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Index | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | On the Road with Delluth and Merlin

Once Merlin and Delluth had left the throne room Merlin set a brisk pace. "First, we pick up your dog, as Morgan promised," the king said over his right shoulder. "And then, Doctor, you are taking me to find my brother."

Delluth's look was frankly censorious, but out in the open corridor he only said, "The wards on that hall are so impressive that I still haven't got the information I need, your Majesty. Then I'll have to try to talk you out of this. And then we'll go."

They headed for the side room where the sagacious hound had been left.

Merlin swung the door open in a grand gesture and called out, "Look who's come back for his patient fellow."

Zhenechka rose to his feet, shaking out his coat. He looked at Delluth reproachfully, and then at Merlin with some curiosity.

"I'm sorry," Delluth said to his dog. "I really thought it wouldn't take long." He crouched down to caress Zhenechka's head with both hands, scratching behind his ears, and was rewarded with a wet slap of dog tongue across his chin. He chuckled and went on, "It was a thoroughly wretched expedition, anyway. Gruesome murder, stupid arguments and disrespect - I wish I'd stayed here to be bored into a stupor by diplomats."

Zhenechka snorted. "Or maybe not," Delluth agreed. "Except it gets worse." He sighed, his mood sinking again. "And we're in a hurry. I'll get to the rest of it shortly, I promise."

He ruffled the sides of the dog's head once more and stood, focusing most of his attention on calling up the Sign, even as he spoke to Merlin. "Excuse me, your majesty. I'll try not to take long about this."

Merlin turned a chair around and sat in it backwards, his arms folded over the back of it and his chin resting upon them. "If seeing where it happened will aid you, I can take you there. It might be dangerous for you, however. Considering what happened to Mandor."

The Sign was wavering and flickering in Delluth's head - as though some powerful force was set against it - a force that seemed to come from beneath their feet.

He frowned and bent his considerable will toward stabilizing the Sign, despite this opposition. This phenomenon needed investigation - if he could do it without incapacitating himself.

Merlin yawned, and his eyes began to close.

The opposing Pattern grew stronger and stronger, throbbing up from below - reaching out the crush the Logrus in its grasp ... and Delluth was just the tool that could be used and discarded.

It was clear that to continue would be to risk severe psychic and possibly physical damage.

Delluth let out a long breath, pulling back from the confrontation as he did so, trying to let his effort subside without being overwhelmed by the force that had arisen to oppose it.

The pressure that had been building seemed - very slowly - to subside.

"Having fun, Doc?" Merlin asked, his eyes still half closed.

Delluth, his own eyes closed, was not paying attention to anything but his immediate problem, and the new headache he had acquired. He did not relax his guard until he had entirely dismissed the Logrus and the other power had likewise faded away.

Zhenechkha turned an anxious circle in front of him, and then eyed Merlin with wary suspicion.

Finally Delluth rubbed his sweat-slick temples, considered the entire situation dispassionately, and muttered several choice phrases in the expressive creole of the Hendrake infantry.

The Pattern energy seemed to have faded once more.

Merlin grinned down at the dog and said, "Don't worry about him, he was just determined to beat his head against a solid wall. Now that he's got that out of his system we can get back to business."

Zhenechkha ignored Merlin, choosing instead to look inquiringly at Delluth.

"An awfully aggressive wall," Delluth sighed, massaging the rest of his forehead for good measure. "You might have warned me," he added to Merlin. "I mean, I would've tried anyway, but I've already had more than enough surprises lately."

Looking down at his dog, Delluth went on, "There is now a very strong source of Pattern energy somewhere downstairs, and it won't let me access the Logrus." Zhenechka put his ears back. "Yes, well, we'll be leaving shortly."

He turned back to Merlin and said, doubtfully, "Is that what happened to your brother? Your majesty? He ran afoul of ... whatever it is?"

Merlin nodded. "I'm pretty sure that's it. I haven't been down there myself. Johann's cell is the center of it. Whether it is just leftover from however Johann was rescued, or was a deliberate trap, I'm not certain."

Johann's liberation was plainly news to Delluth, though his response was merely to register the fact.

"But if I understand correctly Mandor teleported right into the middle of it without any preparation for it at all. So now, Doctor, do you have a little better idea why I think a Pattern initiate like Flora is better suited to deal with this than the sophants of Chaos? Even leaving aside the political considerations of why I want my brother out of there."

"Better suited, certainly. Willing to tell me a thing about it? Not so much, I fear," Delluth said briskly. "Not to mention, not likely to travel to the Courts, if we can't get him loose, or if it takes considerable time to do so. I was trying to cover all the possibilities and not assume the preferred outcome, your majesty.

"But without access to the Logrus, I can't learn anything but 'wow, lots of Pattern energy there.' So we might as well go straight on to the argument."

He folded his arms and studied Merlin for a moment, as if he were a problem to be solved.

"Argue away," Merlin said with a grin. "But I am going. He put himself between me and assassins when I was too young to defend myself. I never expected to have a chance to repay that. I'm not losing it. And I'm not losing him."

Delluth's expression softened a little, and he dropped his gaze. "That, I can't argue with."

While he hesitated, deciding what to say next, Zhenechka moved into his field of view and glared at him. "Sorry, Zhenya," he replied. "The basic problem is, I've managed to mislay the Prime Minister."

He looked away from the dog's astonished stare, back at Merlin. "All right," he said quietly. "One thing. As much as I'd like to go back in time and kick myself in the head to prevent all this, I won't cross my House over getting him back. If that turns out to be a necessary, I'm afraid you'll be on your own. And ... I'm not optimistic that it won't be necessary. Nor do I think it's going to be at all safe for you to be in the Courts. But we'll just have to see."

Merlin nodded. "I can live with that. I hope, although I'm not going to ask it of you, that if it does come to crossing your house you'll not hinder me, even if you can't help me. Do that, and I'll do my best not to kill any of your House members."

Delluth looked pained by the very idea. "Please. One of them's my daughter." He fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out his trumps, moving the one for Corrino Ways to the top of the thin stack. "I don't think anyone would expect me to try to stop you, your majesty. And I won't, if I can possibly help it."

Cards in hand, he looked at Merlin. "I haven't gotten around to getting better at this, I'm afraid," he said apologetically.

"Let's do it," Merlin said, holding his hand out to Delluth.

The doctor took it, and focused on the card. Without prompting, Zhenechka moved close and pressed against his leg, on the opposite side from Merlin.

The card showed a triangle of green grass and white stone, with angular white tree-like structures beyond. After a long pause, he said, "Now," and stepped forward, the dog staying with him easily.

They appeared within a diamond of grass, surrounded by a closed diamond of white stone pathway, surrounded by a grove of what could have been either strange trees, or sculptures of trees. There did not seem to be a sky overhead, but rather a gray surface that gave off a diffuse and indifferent light. This was the busiest private entrance to the Ways of a populous House, and the trees and the stone paths were a maze, littered with Veils that led to many different parts of the Ways -- as well as to dead-end rooms that in peaceful times were merely difficult to get out of.

Delluth glanced around and began summoning the Sign, partly to reassure himself that he still could.

The Sign came burning into his mind with almost unexpected force.

Merlin dropped Delluth's hand and stepped away from him, glancing around him with a small smile on his face.

"Is this meant to be happening?" he asked with interest.

Two thirds of the Veils within view seemed to be on fire.

"Interesting times," Delluth said tightly, attending to the process of putting his arms into the Logrus. Zhenechka moved to crouch behind him, watching his back. Where, they both wondered, were the guards?

There were no signs of guards. The place seemed to have been abandoned.

The edges of his Trumps dug hard into Delluth's hand, but he couldn't pause now to check on Jerusha.

"I just love interesting times," Merlin said easily. "Keeps me from getting bored." He turned a leisurely circle, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of the short sword he wore.

Delluth twined a quartet of Logrus tendrils around his fingers, as he had not long before, and suppressed his irritation. He might have said the same thing himself, after all - if it wasn't his home involved, and his nightmares being enacted.

Instead, he took a steadying breath, put away his Trumps, and thought about where to go. The starting-points of both of the best routes to Irulan's private Ways were in flames; the heat from the other side was actually beginning to melt the trees in which the Veils were set. And, he had no way of knowing if she was there, or somewhere else, in any case.

"This way," he said after a few moments' consideration, starting toward one of the paths leading off among the trees.

Merlin followed him without comment.

The path seemed to lead to a low mound, circled with trees. For some this had always been a special haven; for others - Irulan and Delluth among them - it was a most secret backdoor to the Ways. But now the way was blocked - someone had thrown themselves down on the grassy slope of the mound and was weeping uncontrollably.

It was Jerusha.

Delluth's feet carried him closer, while his heart and mind tangled themselves into the same old knot of affection, regret, and wariness. He stopped at the edge of the trees, making sure his grip on the Logrus was secure, and mortally certain that this was going to hurt. Zhenechka followed like a reluctant shadow, his tail held low.

"Jerusha?" Delluth said, just loud enough for her to hear him.

Merlin followed, but stopped some distance behind Delluth. He turned slowly, examining the terrain around them in all directions, before turning back to watch Delluth and Jerusha.

At first it seemed that she had not heard him, lost in her grief as she was. Then, slowly, like an injured animal, she hauled herself up on on hands and knees and turned to her father a face ravaged and twisted by grief, not even bothering to repress her demon nature as it distorted more.

"He's dead," she said flatly, and her altered jaw flattened and hollowed the sound of her voice. "The only one who could ever love what I am ... and they took him and slaughtered him. Because of Amber ..."

Ah, Delluth thought numbly, secrets. If I knew who she was talking about, I might do something besides look blank.

Her head jerked as she seemed to become aware that Delluth was not alone.

"Who's this?"

Her hands tightened into very real claws.

Delluth stepped forward into the clearing, trying to block her view of the king. "My guest," he answered her question. More quietly, seeking to catch and hold her gaze, he went on, "Jerusha -- I just got here, and it seems like half --" His voice faltered, but he continued. "-- Half the place is on fire, and, and ..."

He could put nothing else into words -- not his fear of losing everything again, not the pain her anguish caused him. "Please," he said desperately, "tell me what's happened. Who are 'they'?"

She lifted a hand and ran it wearily over her face. "There's a war going on," she said wearily. "Did no-one think to tell you? Sawall started it ... and Ishtar. But it's spread - half the minor Houses in Chaos are seeing it as a chance to settle old grudges. The Emperor ... does little. He waits for it to bleed out. We've held aloof ... as far as we can. But there have been attacks ...

"Why are you here? You were safe in Amber!"

Delluth was startled into a short, bitter laugh. "Not with Uther Helgram intent on taking it apart - or so it seems. Nobody thought to warn me about that, either."

Merlin watched silently, and Zhenechka stayed at the edge of the clearing.

Delluth reached his daughter and joined her kneeling on the grass. "Jerusha," he said gently, "you never told me that you loved someone." His worried gaze urged her to tell him now.

She laughed, mirthlessly. "Did you believe me incapable of love, Father? I loved him - but he saw me as ... No matter. He's dead now - and will see me as nothing at all. Besides, even if he had cared, his family ... "

Merlin walked to where Zhenechka waited and sat down. "Family," he murmured quietly to the dog. "That's what it all comes to in the end, isn't it?"

One of the dog's ears twitched toward Merlin, but his gaze remained fixed on the scene in front of them.

Jerusha looked up at him sharply, as though her demon ears had heard.

"No," Delluth sighed, retreating - though not physically. "No, that was more of a comment on the state of our relationship."

Merlin said nothing, but attempted to scratch between Zhenechka's ears. After a slight hesitation, the dog let him.

Jerusha pulled herself to her feet.

"We need to talk," she said. She shot a suspicious look at Merlin. "Privately."

Delluth also stood, and glanced back over his shoulder. Then he looked at Jerusha's tearstained face, not sure if he was pleased or disappointed that she was pulling herself together so well. "I'm on a fairly urgent errand," he said. "In fact, I need to talk to Lady Irulan." But there was no pressure in his tone; he was inviting her to make her case for some further delay.

She looked at him for a second. Then she turned away.

"You're always on a fairly urgent errand, Father," she said. "Or ensconced at the far end of the Universe. So don't be surprised that I don't talk to you more."

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me," he breathed, wishing Merlin anywhere else. "And now you ask to, and I don't know what to do with it. I'm sorry. Let me - try again. Please."

"Try what, Father?" she said. "To talk to me? We can do that. We can go over there ... " She pointed to a small sunken garden some little distance away. We can ward that safely enough - and still be close enough for your friend to see you."

A strange spin on the word 'friend' ...

"And then we can talk," she added.

He appeared to hesitate, but was taking a moment to bring his feelings under control. Obviously, she did not intend a heart-to-heart chat right now. "Try to find the right thing to say," he stalled. "Or at least not the wrong thing."

The discipline of controlling the Logrus, and a task, usually helped; he began to scan the vicinity through the Sign, sure that this place couldn't be as safe as it had seemed so far. "And I said 'guest,' not 'friend,'" he added, much more calmly.

The area seemed to be clear enough. Scanning Jerusha, he sensed the pain and anger she was feeling, barely contained. Merlin was lying back on the ground - certain signs suggested he was in a trump contact. Delluth got a strong sense of Morgan.

The area around them seemed sealed - perhaps hermetically contained - and that bore Jerusha's imprint.

"All right," he said, signaling Zhenechka to stay put (and getting a sour look in response). He started toward the sunken garden, setting his pace to stay even with Jerusha as they went.

When they had reached the sunken area, Jerusha made no attempt to take one of the low stone benches. Instead she swung round to face her father. The Demon had faded from her eyes, but Delluth saw a stern resolution there instead.

"Do you know what is happening her?" she said in a low voice.

He shook his head. "I'd heard that Sawall and Ishtar are at war, but I can't imagine why, and couldn't say how far it's spread. It seems the Emperor's policy towards Amber has changed, which came as a surprise to everyone there. And ... I guess it's all going even worse than I feared. But I'm short on facts."

He looked at her expectantly.

"You do know about the feud between Ishtar and Sawall?" she said. "It's allowed Helgram and Hendrake to push their agenda on the Emperor. Irulan ... House Corrino are fighting to stay on top of this, Father. She needs every advantage she can get."

Delluth managed not to wince at the mention of 'advantages.' "Which means what? Are you saying I should have stayed away, or come back sooner?" he said impatiently. "The fact is, she asked me to look into something in Amber, and now I'm going to report. If I can find her. That" -- he glanced toward Merlin -- "is an encumbrance I could have done without, but I couldn't get rid of him."

He mastered the greater part of his irritation and eyed Jerusha. "Tell me about Helgram and Hendrake's agenda, then. I can probably guess, but I don't like relying on guesses. And how did this feud thing begin?"

"For the feud - something happened at the Chapel of the Logrus. I don't know what ... but Despil Sawall was, they said, sorely injured. As for the other ... Helgram and Hendrake's agenda is what it ever was. They argue that the only way that Chaos can be truly safe is to eradicate Order entirely. For Helgram I account it a true belief. For Hendrake - it's in part because Mandor outwitted them in Amber and built his own Empire under their noses."

Delluth gave a short sigh and stared off into the trees.

Her glance wandered towards Merlin.

"Father ... you haven't brought us an encumbrance. You've brought us a hostage."

He followed her glance. "Maybe. I don't think he'd have come here if he didn't think he could get away again. Unless that's sheer bravado ... I certainly can't claim to understand him, unfortunately.

"He's also Part Two of why I need to see Irulan. Do you know where she is? Or at least where she definitely isn't?"

"She went to see the Emperor," she said, and then frowned. "I'm not ... altogether sure why. But I can probably take you there ..."

Again her gaze stole towards Merlin.

"Jerusha," Delluth said, "I'm not doing anything that will make it impossible for me to go back to Amber - or not without direct orders, anyway. So please stop looking at him like that.

"Are they at the Thelbane, or somewhere else?" He knew perfectly well where the Thelbane was, but with all this trouble going on, perhaps he did need a guide.

Jerusha nodded. "The Thelbane." She was looking at Delluth now, rather than Merlin.

"How long ago did she leave?" he asked. "I don't want to go over there and then have to come right back again. And is there some particular reason I would need help getting there?"

"Apart from the fact you're a virtual stranger in Chaos these days, there's a war going on, and the Emperor is a primary target?" she responded. "Irulan went there three sky turns ago. I'm not expecting her to return soon ..."

"I do know a couple of back ways in," Delluth said. "One of them at least should still be open ... What route do you have in mind?"

With Jerusha's knowledge of what had been damaged or destroyed, incomplete though it was, they developed a provisional route and some alternatives with a few minutes' rapid discussion.

"All right," Delluth said at last. "Let's find out if himself there still wants to come along.

"And, Jerusha --" He tried to put a hand on her shoulder, as if the distance between them could be so easily bridged, his businesslike demeanor softening toward parental concern once more.

She gave a little shrug - not enough to remove the hand, but sufficient to show she was not entirely comfortable with it.

He kept it there while he continued, "I may be a failure as a parent, but I do love you."

"I know," she said quietly. "We're just neither very good at ... sharing that."

The relief that flashed over his face showed how much he had feared her possible response. "So all it takes is a major crisis," he said ruefully, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go. "That's no way to go on."

He hesitated, wishing there was more time to talk, but then reluctantly turned back toward the immediate problem.

As they approached Merlin, he sat up suddenly, smiled, and spoke to the dog.

"Don't mind me. I talk to the voices in my head all the time."

Then he looked, a little quizzically, at Delluth and Jerusha.

Delluth's long practice of manners allowed him to speak calmly and politely, as if no serious troubles afflicted him. "Please allow me to introduce my daughter, Jerusha. Jerusha, this is Merlin Sawall, King of Amber."

Merlin bowed his head and smiled. "Enchante," he said. "One day soon I hope to be able to greet you in Amber, and offer you the freedom of the city, in thanks for the good aid and counsel of your father."

Jerusha looked a little startled - and then dropped a slightly awkward curtsey.

Delluth seemed a bit dubious, but carried on nonetheless.

"Jerusha tells me that Lady Irulan has gone to the Thelbane to see the Emperor," the doctor said. "With a little luck, we should be able to get there without running into awkward questions, personal enemies, or roving bands of politicians."

And his look of mild inquiry asked whether Merlin wished to join them.

"Um hmm," Merlin replied. "And how, exactly, does this further our particular goal? The Emperor isn't on my must see right now list at the moment."

"I need to see Irulan," Delluth said, "because I need to know whether I can help you. Of course it's not a good idea for you to go there, but if - no, wait," he interrupted himself, remembering that he hadn't yet divulged one of the last important details. "I was going to tell you as part of the argument I didn't get around to making, your Majesty. According to what I was told, the Hendrakes have him because they claimed he's an enemy of the state - whatever that's supposed to mean.

"That truly makes it imperative that I find out precisely what's going on before I do anything more significant than bringing you here, and Lady Irulan is my best source of information like that."

He shrugged uncomfortably. "So, obviously, staying away from the Thelbane would be wisest for you, unless you wish to confront this claim head-on. I might be able to help you with that. Maybe. Or I could try to hide you here for a while, or you could go off on your own, or we could try to slip you in and out of the Thelbane without anyone noticing. Or I suppose we could wait here until she comes back, however long that is ..." He clearly didn't care for the latter idea at all.

"Damn!" Merlin swore. He shook his head. "So we see what your trust of your House's devotion to healing was worth." He frowned. "Right, this is getting more complicated. I don't want to risk meeting the Emperor, that could get really sticky really fast. I also agree that delaying and waiting here is a bad idea, either alone or together."

He thought for a longer moment, then said, "OK, you're right, we need more information about what's going on." His eyes went to Jerusha. "You've probably already told your father this, but would you do me the courtesy of filling me in on the war situation? The quick version."

Jerusha cast a swift glance at her father, as though ascertaining how much he wanted Merlin to learn of what she had told him.

Delluth met her gaze and said, "You didn't quite say as much, but I fear it could devolve into a real free-for-all at any time."

"Not if Irulan can prevent it," said Jerusha. "And ... she needs allies. She may ... be looking for allies now."

She explained the situation to Merlin as she had to her father - the Hendrakes and Helgrams in the ascendant - and using the weakness caused by the Sawall/Ishtar feud to push their agenda all the harder. To Delluth it seemed as though she was stressing to Merlin how his position at the Court was significantly weakened.

When she finished, he put in, "Jerusha has heard that the feud has something to do with your brother Despil being injured at the Chapel of the Logrus. I can't imagine what Ishtar might have to do with something like that - do you know any more about it, your Majesty?"

"It all involves Baroness Helgram, and whatever happened to her at the Logrus," Merlin answered. "Jurt knows more, but we didn't have a chance to speak on it before he was swept up in whatever it was the Duke did involving Tir." He shook his head, his frown growing deeper. "Irulan ... she should at least have an idea where Mandor has been transported. What's your relationship with her, Doctor? Good?"

Half a mental step behind, Delluth said, "Tear? The Logrus? Jurt? What ... ?" Then he caught up. "Irulan. Yes, I have a good relationship with her. Assuming I'm not inadvertently causing her more trouble than she already has on her hands."

He changed the topic slightly: "Listen, your Majesty, I'm not talking about strolling in the front door of the Thelbane or barging into her conference with the Emperor. There are other entrances, and areas belonging to Corrino that aren't his residence or working areas. I've stayed there from time to time. With a little disguise, he won't know you've been there. Unless my lady finds it necessary to tell him, of course."

"Desperate times, desperate measures," Merlin answered. "All right, Doctor, we'll play it your way. Let's get this done, so we can go back and save Amber."

The second "we" made Delluth frown, slightly and unhappily, but otherwise he let it pass.

Jerusha glanced at her father. "There are hidden paths from here nearly to the Thelbane. Shall we take them?"

"Worth a try," he agreed.

Their route, chosen with the knowledge that Zhenechka could not shapeshift, was less interesting than it might have been, but did require passing through Veils that would have been hidden from and locked to anyone who did not know the keys. Finally they passed out of a long corridor decorated in the ultraviolet spectrum into a cold place, a narrow cleft in wind-sculpted red stone. At the moment the wind was blowing, noisily, in a direction perpendicular to their shelter.

"Last step," Delluth said, stopping well away from the exit, and cautiously sent out another near-invisible thread of Logrus energy, to survey the final approach to the Thelbane.

Merlin, as he had throughout their journey, followed, watchful and cautious.

There seemed to be a heightened level of security, with twice the numbers of guards. But the wards in place were much what Delluth would expect - and they bore Irulan's signature for one who could read such things.

"Looks clear," he reported, withdrawing the probe. "Though there are extra guards. Hardly surprising, really.

"How about that disguise, then, your Majesty? Do you want to change your whole appearance, or just borrow the appearance of a Corrino uniform? Or did you have something in particular in mind?"

"Just summon up a guard tunic and a helmet that hides most of the face, Doc, there's a good fellow. I don't want to disrupt the sorceries I'm holding ready." Merlin smiled pleasantly.

Zhenechka, who had gone a few steps ahead to test the scents on the wind, turned back and gave Merlin almost exactly the same dubious look that Delluth was giving him.

Then the doctor sighed and sent a Logrus tendril off to seek the things required.

Presently, with Merlin dressed as a reasonable facsimile of a Corrino guard, Delluth and his dog led the way out of the cleft. The chill wind encouraged them to hurry across the rough landscape towards a high wall of pitted yellow brick.

Merlin followed, still playing the part of the loyal and devoted bodyguard. Jerusha kept close to her father and, when she saw the guard ahead, spoke to him quietly. "Those are Irulan's personal demons. She must be close."

"Yes," he said, frowning absently. His pace had slowed, as if he was really focusing on something that was not in front of him.

Merlin dutifully slowed as well, remaining just behind and to Delluth's left.

"What is it?" said Jerusha. "I thought you wanted to see Irulan!"

"I do," he said, frowning even more deeply, and came to a complete stop, marooning them all two-thirds of the way across the broken plain, with the fierce wind trying to cut through to the bone. "This should only take a moment or two ..."

Zhenechka promptly moved to the lee side of him and sat down.

Merlin rested a hand on the hilt of the sword and slowly scanned the surrounding area and the sky above them.

Jerusha waited for a few moments, then spoke in a low, urgent voice. "Father - we are so very vulnerable here ... "

His noticeably delayed response was, "Mmm-hmmm."

Then, a breath or so later, he shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "Let's move along, then," he said, and started off again toward the wall.

"Well," Merlin said as he followed Delluth, "I don't know about you, Jerusha, but your father has certainly set my mind at ease."

Jerusha shot him a pained look.

The demons at the door, it seemed, were not there to keep them out. They bowed, and the party caught the faint, elusive scent of violets - a characteristic of all the demons Irulan ensorcelled and one that other mages had found surprisingly hard to duplicate.

"Our lady is aware of your approach and bids you accept our escort," said the first. His appearance would have suggested a gravelly voice, but in fact he sounded as melodious as an oboe.

"Ah, good," Delluth said. "-- Escort to where?" He hesitated, but only so he could hear the answer.

Merlin's eyes narrowed as he studied the demons, but other than that small reaction he remained still and quiet. Jerusha shifted a little as she stood.

"The Lady Irulan is within the Emperor's apartments but in her own private rooms," said the demon. "She has given orders that certain people were to be admitted. You and your daughter were two of them."

Delluth evinced no surprise at this, but rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And nothing about an unexpected addition, of course," he muttered. "Seeing as it's unexpected."

He dropped his hand (still adorned with quiescent Logrus tendrils) and met the demon's gaze again. "I'll not surprise my lady any more than I must. We'll have to send a message ahead about my guest." He did nothing to indicate Merlin, but then there was no one else he could be referring to.

An especially strong gust of wind yanked at all their clothing. "From inside, if you please," he added over the noise.

Merlin remained motionless, the very image of a dutiful retainer awaiting instruction.

The demons steeped aside; it seemed their orders to admit Delluth included admitting suitably respectful attendants.

Inside they at once found themselves within a room that shimmered and throbbed with light and colour in rich vibrant shades that would soothe the Chaosian mind - and induce epilepsy in other more vulnerable species.

The doctor glanced around, in the manner of one checking that a familiar place is in order. Then he crossed to an object that an Amberite might not have recognized as a small table or desk and chair, set against one wall. Seating himself, he took a sheet of paper (or something like it) out of a drawer and picked up the pen that was ready in a stand beside the inkwell. With only the slightest pause for thought, he began a note.

"Is the Emperor also in residence?" he inquired absently, as he wrote.

Zhenechka, who had followed him closely, sat leaning against his leg, with his eyes closed.

Merlin took a stance behind Delluth, with his back to the wall. He stared straight ahead, arms folded.

"Yes," said the demon, holding out his hand for the note. After a pause he added, "The Lady Irulan is with him now."

As the demon spoke, his violet aroma became a little suffused with an aroma of cinnamon. Jerusha frowned and turned away, biting her lip.

Delluth continued writing for a few more moments, folded and sealed the note with the materials he found on the desk, and handed it over.

The demon bowed low and withdrew.

Gently stroking his dog's head, Delluth stared at nothing in particular, in a pose that no longer seemed casual when he had held it quite unchanged for several minutes.

The demon returned in a surprisingly short amount of time.

"The Lady Irulan will see you now," he announced. "All of you - those were her instructions."

Delluth nodded and stood, walking toward the doorway. Zhenechka slitted his eyes open but stayed pressed lightly against his master's leg.

Merlin followed and so too, after a slight hesitation, did Jerusha.

The demon escorted them in to a small booklined study. Irulan was seated at a desk that looked a little too large for her. She looked up at Jerusha and nodded - and then gave Merlin a long, cool look, before turning her attention to Delluth.

"You gave a dangerous gift to us, Delluth," she said quietly.

He moved his shoulders stiffly. "I was not thinking things through, m'lady," he answered. In a rush of regret, he added, "Skelton was injured when last I spoke with him."

"He was reluctant to see any harm come to the charge you had given him," said Irulan. Her gaze crept towards Merlin.

Merlin remained at silent attention.

"He is safe," Irulan said suddenly. "Safe and ... attainable."

Delluth had looked even more guilty over her comment about Skelton, but this distracted him. "Safe where?" he asked, also glancing at Merlin; he took in the other man's stance, and looked a bit perplexed. But more of his attention was on his conversation with Irulan. "I assumed at Yarris - based on the very little information Skelton could give me."

Merlin met Irulan's eyes then, and murmured "Attainable. And negotiable, perhaps?"

"Indeed," said Irulan. "With a suitably empowered emissary." She spread her hands. "And perhaps such a one is present ... "

Merlin glanced at Delluth. "Nothing to say, Doc?" he asked rhetorically. Then, with a smile, he regarded Irulan. "So, let's talk about turning Delluth's gift in for valuable prizes. Act now, while the offer is still valid. Trump artists are standing by."

"The offer is quite simple, Merlin," said Irulan. "If you want Mandor back ... you pledge to marry me. And gain a brother ... and the support of Corrino."

She glanced at Delluth as she spoke, as though expecting him to say something.

For a moment, he was utterly blank with astonishment. Then he looked at Merlin. "That is," he said deliberately, "if *you* feel comfortable making such a pledge."

Merlin met Delluth's eyes and smiled. "I'm always comfortable, Doc," he answered. "You should have figured that out by now." The smile became an impudent grin. "I rather think you have," he added. He turned back to Irulan. "Now why would you want to be Queen of Amber?" he mused. "When most of the powers back here seem to consider it somewhere between an annoyance and an irrelevance. Save those who want it destroyed for religious and aesthetic reasons."

Irulan gave a little amused laugh. "I'm not marrying you for Amber, your Majesty. I'm marrying you for ... other reasons. Which you must know better than all others."

Delluth watched curiously for Merlin's response to this.

Merlin lifted an eyebrow and answered her laugh with a quiet one of his own. "We do not always end up with what we want, do we? Well then, here's a proposal for you. Give me Mandor, and let us be off back to Amber. Give me a chance to save it from the Duke and his machinations before you call your payment due. In exchange, you have my oath that I will marry you, if you still want me.

Irulan smiled. "Your oath - taken in the presence of Delluth, me ... and the Logrus?"

She shot Delluth a look that seemed equal parts appeal and - strangely - the mischief he remembered in a much younger Irulan.

He nearly smiled, but instead edged forward a bit, so as to interrupt anything Merlin might have said. "All right," he said resignedly. "As ... fascinating as this all has been, it's really gone a bit too far."

He paused for a moment, then said to Merlin, quite courteously, "I don't believe you're really Merlin, and I'd like to know - and so would Lady Irulan, I'm sure - whether he'll consider himself bound by any promises that you make. Captain Morgan."

"Busted," said the man with Merlin's face with a grin. "But if you think back, I didn't swear that Merlin would marry her. Only that I would, if she still wanted me. The unspoken part of that was 'after she finds out who I really am.' Tell me, Doc, what did I do wrong? When did you figure it out?"

Delluth smiled slightly in appreciation of Morgan's tactical use of language. "Small details," he answered the question. "It took me too long, in my opinion, but then I don't know either of you very well. -- What I don't get is why you did it in the first place." As he finished the last comment, he glanced toward Irulan to assess her reactions.

Irulan was smiling, her dark eyes alive with amusement. "Oh, I can think of several reasons why Merlin wouldn't want to set foot in Chaos in person," she said. "But he must trust you beyond common expectations to do this ... to negotiate for his brother."

"Ah, well," Morgan answers, "We were hoping I could just steal him instead of negotiating for him. And, truth be told, the identity thing is of more import on the other side of the universe. Having Merl there without anyone knowing he's there will, hope, hope, give him an advantage in dealing with our various enemies."

He sat on the edge of her desk and regarded her with a frank and approving look. "But, anyhow, about those negotiations..."

Delluth moved around to the side of the desk, where he could more conveniently watch both of them. He stood a little closer to Irulan than to Morgan.

Irulan smiled. "And now the Doctor has exposed your identity, what do you have to negotiate with?" She put emphasis on the last word. "Be careful what you say, Captain, for I am sure the doctor with confirm the veracity or veniality of your words."

She glanced at Delluth for confirmation.

"Will he? You think?" Morgan turned Merlin's face towards Delluth and grinned at him with it. "What about you, Doc, you think you can do that? Am I going to have to be honest and forthright? Not that I'm not always, of course." He winked.

"I'd recommend it," Delluth said seriously. "This looks to me like the kind of situation where dishonesty is likely to turn around and bite hard."

He glanced back and forth between them. "I'll do my best, my lady," he said formally. "But there are things I simply don't know. And the reverse applies," he added, his gaze coming to rest on Morgan/Merlin. "It seems that at present I'm even more out of touch with things here than usual."

Morgan nods. "Makes things interesting, doesn't it? I love interesting things. And interesting people." He looks back to Irulan. "So as to what I have to offer ... whadaya want?"

"Merlin," she said unhesitatingly. "For the moment, you'll do. If we go through a public pledge-plight here ... there are very few people who will perceive you're not Merlin, and even those will doubt their own senses, seeing I accept you, with Delluth to back me."

She looked at Morgan with some amusement. "There will, of course, be some risk. Merlin has many enemies here ... "

Morgan stretched out on Irulan's desk, propping his head up on one arm and regarding her. "Don't know how your local laws work," he said, "But this wouldn't hold up in Amber, not if the king, that's Merl, says it doesn't. But if what you're after is the temporary appearance that you're pledged to Merlin, for whatever political gain that's going to get you..?"

He ended the sentence on an interrogative note, and watched her out of Merlin's eyes.

Delluth watched him assume this incredibly insolent posture with something very like fascination.

Irulan looked at him for a moment, and then smiled.

"You would not look so attractive, Captain, either as Merlin or yourself, if you were to experience prolonged itching in every part of your body that touches my desk. You may think to test my need of this alliance ... but I may also need to test how serious is your desire to recover Mandor.

"As for political influence ... " She shrugged, beautifully. "That I have. My uncle is Emperor which gives me a fairly firm position behind the throne of Chaos. I look to strengthen his position, of course, And Merlin has ... shall we say, possibilities? But not necessarily in terms of political influence."

She was standing now in the centre of the room, tranquil and unruffled. Almost casually she raised a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Morgan stretched, then rolled gracefully off the desk and onto his feet, ending up facing Irulan from only a few feet away. "Well, then," he said. "Is it Merlin and his possibilities you're really interested in? Because I can't commit him to anything, you know. Oh, I could promise and swear and stand in for him all you like, especially if consummation of the marriage is required, but he didn't send me out here with the understanding that I could arrange a marriage for him."

"Oh, but I think it's your call now," said Irulan. "He clearly trusted you enough to send you as his deputy ... unless he decided that you are so dangerous that this was a convenient way of disposing of you. Perhaps, Captain, you weren't meant to make it back to Amber at all?"

Beside Delluth, Jerusha stirred uneasily.

Her father made a calming gesture, though most of his attention remained on the other two.

Morgan glanced over at Jerusha when she moved. He winked at her, then turned back to Irulan. "Who knows?" he said conversationally. "We all have to decide where to put our trust, and we never know if it's in the right place until we reach the moment of truth, do we?" He looked her up and down, his expression somehow combining thoughtfulness and frank appreciation. "As for it being my call... well, that's an interesting thing to say. You're trying to get me to bid without seeing any of your cards, and without even explaining exactly what game we're playing."

He chuckled. "I like that," he confessed. "At least, I like it today, from you. Another time, from another source, and I'd probably feel differently."

He crossed his arms across his chest, and leaned back against her desk. "Right, then," he said. "Here's my offer. Give me Mandor, and let me trump him back to Amber. In exchange, I tell Merlin how much help you were, and that of all the marriage proposals people are pushing at him I think yours is by far the best. You're a deep one, and I don't pretend to understand you, but as far as I'm concerned that's a huge advantage in a partner. Keeps things interesting, and interesting is always more fun than predictable."

He shrugged. "It's not a promise, but it's the best you're going to get from me. Anything else would be a lie, and I find that I don't want to start out our future relationship as possible cousins-in-law on the basis of a lie."

He grinned hugely. "If that's not acceptable, my counteroffer is that I'll marry you myself. I may not be a Lord of Chaos, but I am a Lord of Amber, and I've got some possibilities of my own."

Delluth had taken half a step toward the pair as Morgan made this last remark, which momentarily distracted him; he shook his head slightly, suppressing a smile, and refocused.

"An engagement can be called off, Captain," he pointed out, "if the negotiations fall through. Which in this case, could happen as soon as King Merlin hears of it. And ..." He glanced at Irulan, then back at Morgan, his face mirroring his concern. "There's the problem of Duke Helgram."

"A proxy marriage," said Irulan. "If I were to marry you, here, in your disguise ...then people would see the contract as binding. Binding Merlin ... or you. That is, if you chose to proclaim the truth. One way or another, I shall be married to you."

She smiled at him. "And for that ... I shall give you Mandor.

"Perhaps you would care to think this over? I can have rooms found for you all."

The smile on Merlin's face grows wider. "I find my bad decisions just become worse if I think about them too long. I just have one question. In Amber, a marriage isn't considered binding until it's been consummated. Dare I hope that holds true here? I wouldn't wish to be party to a sham marriage, you understand. A matter of honour."

Irulan stiffened slightly, and then relaxed. "If you wish to consummate the marriage in the fashion of Amber, then that will be acceptable. You would, I think, prefer to avoid the ritual consummation of Chaos. Unless, of course, you are an experienced shapeshifter, Captain? And despite outward appearances at this moment, I remain unaware of how far your abilities extend."

The glance she shot at Delluth showed lurking mischief.

Delluth eyed Merlin/Morgan speculatively. "We could probably work something out, my lady," he opined. "I'm not sure this will serve your purpose if it isn't done properly."

Morgan/Merlin laughed. "What you see is the result of Merlin's abilities," he admitted. "You'll find me boringly static in form. Although at least the form I do have is pretty much perfect, so that shouldn't be too much of a hardship for you."

Irulan gave a sudden laugh - which seemed to surprise her.

He looked thoughtful, and then said, "Now, here comes an interesting test of our future relationship. If I give you my word that I will stay here and marry you, immediately, no tricks or prevarications, will you give me Mandor now, so I can send him back to Merlin? He's injured, and time could be a factor. Plus, if we have any gate crashers at the wedding, come to try to kill Merle when they hear he's in Chaos, you might find it impossible to keep your end of the bargain after the marriage."

He grinned. "Consider it a test of the trust that is necessary for a working partnership."

"I won't give you Mandor," Irulan said at once. And then she smiled. "Not yet. But I will take you to him, so that you can assure yourself that he is ... in good hands."

"That's a start," Merlin/Morgan agreed with an answering smile. "All right, let's go see Mandy, and then we can discuss the dinnerware pattern."

Delluth moved very slightly, no more than a shifting of his weight, and looked at Irulan; she, at least, could read his expression as asking/expecting to go along.

Irulan gave him a slight nod - and then she spoke to Morgan.

"If you will excuse me ... I shall make the necessary arrangements. We can trump to my Ways - if you trust me so far."

"My darling wife-to-be," Morgan answered with a smile. "Consider that trust to be my wedding gift to you. I'm sure you know how precious a gift it is."

One of Irulan's dark eyebrows quirked at Morgan's words, and she was half smiling as she held out her hand to Morgan. "Come then. Jerusha - stay here and deflect any questions that may be asked as to my whereabouts."

Delluth glanced away from them both for a moment, then gave Irulan another significant look - this one subtly conveying that he'd really like to talk to her, *privately.*

She indicated that Morgan should take Delluth's hand too.

Morgan took her hand, bent and kissed it, and then with a smile turned and offered his other hand to Delluth. "Bringing Zhenechka along, Doc?" he asked.

Delluth was already gesturing to the dog, who had sidled over to Jerusha and was now sitting against her leg, being absently petted. Now he trotted over to his master. The doctor was facing away from Morgan, who could not see the grave and anxious look he gave his daughter.

Then Delluth reached his hand toward Morgan - and paused, looking at it. The Logrus tendrils that were still twined around two fingers disappeared, though he kept the ones on the other hand. Then he finished the gesture, saying, "Last time I left him behind, I was sorry."

The light around them shimmered and shifted ...

Suddenly they were in a room, a well appointed drawing room, it seemed. Delluth had never been in the room before, but he guessed it was within House Corrino, in Irulan's private quarters - perhaps created especially for this eventuality. Certainly it was furnished in shades that she particularly liked, warm gold, delicate duck egg blues and softest mauve. The style was formal - yet provided comfort to the man who was half lying on a chaise long, the tartan rug across his legs a discordant clash of colour. He was not resting though - he was making notes of the topmost sheet of a pile of paper supported on a traveller's desk that he was using. That he had been at work for some time was suggested by the pile of papers at his side, some crumpled into balls, some ripped savagely - but one small pile neatly stacked

He glanced up as they entered - and then his stare fixed and hardened.

It was Mandor.

"You're looking surprising un-comatose," the man with Merlin's face said to Mandor with a half grin. Then he looked at Irulan. "You surprise me yet again," he said admiringly.

Delluth let go of Morgan's hand, looking rather startled. He doubted he would be permitted to conduct a thorough examination, but he re-activated Logrus Sight all the same, in the form of a sheen of black across his eyes. Zhenechka sniffed the air and looked around alertly.

The Logrus pulsed and throbbed with a force Delluth had seldom felt. The conclusion he could draw was that this was indeed Mandor - and the Logrus was not happy.

He supposed he should be glad his pessimism had proved unfounded, but he didn't try very hard to achieve gladness. Instead he frowned slightly, wondering what was going on with the Logrus.

Irulan smiled and lifted a hand in a depreceating gesture.

The harsh lines of Mandor's face relaxed. "I should have realised he would have more sense. Morgan? Have you left him alone in Amber?"

There was an anxiety in his tone that suggested more strongly than anything else that Mandor was still not fully recovered, else such emotions would have been concealed under his usual urbane mask.

"He convinced me that finding you was more important than guarding him," Morgan answered. "Not an easy task, I'm sure you realize. So, you ready to go back, or are you right in the middle of a good book?"

Mandor smiled faintly. "Although I'd be delighted to return, out hostess here is most pressing in her hospitality ... "

He raised an eyebrow at Irulan who smiled.

"I think," she said, "we have reached the limits of trust here. I have shown him to you - it is now for you to make a reciprocal gesture. Or, indeed, run away to Amber and tell all that you have learned. But do that rashly, and my guest will have time to read my entire library."

"Which," said Mandor, "is notoriously infinite."

"Well," said Morgan, turning to Irulan, "Here's a proposal, my darling. Let me give Mandy here my trump of Merlin. I've only got the one. He can trump on home to deal with the accumulating and ever-increasing emergencies ..." He looked back to Mandor, "Just wait till you hear what's been going on in Amber since you left. I wish I could be there to watch your urbane lack of any change of expression while Merle fills you in." He looked back at Irulan once more. "Mandy trumps home, as I said. I stay here, fulfil my part of the bargain, and trust in you to send me home afterwards." And then to Mandor once again. "We're getting married," he confided. "It's going to be the wedding of the incomprehensibly-named and irrationally erratic Chaosian time period."

Mandor raised dark eyebrows, so at variance with his white hair. "Now, that does surprise me. I wouldn't have guessed you were so eager to exchange the hurly burluy of the chaise longue for the deep peace of the marital bed, Captain. Nor that my Lady here would be prepared to settle for such a minor alliance ... please don't tell me it was a case of love at first sight ... "

"Not precisely," Morgan began with a smile, before being interrupted ...

Delluth seemed not to be paying attention to any of this.

In fact, at this juncture, he slid down suddenly to the floor, his skin glowing a strange brilliant red, even as his body began to shift to something that appeared to be a primal Chaos form. His dog started violently, and turned to stare at him, whining in distress. Delluth's prone form became taller, thinner, and covered with cilia, intermixed with needle-thin spikes, instead of clothes; his hands and feet grew vicious claws. He still had eyes, but they were closed. It seemed this form did not require normal breathing.

"Dear me," said Mandor. "Was it something I said?"

Morgan turned and watched Delluth with an expression of mild interest. "I'd say, 'There's something you don't see everyday,'" he remarked, "Except that around here that's probably not true."

"Unusual for Delluth," said Irulan. Morgan had the impression that although she was speaking calmly, she was inwardly alarmed (and possibly confused) by the turn of events. Mandor, watching, smiled faintly.

"You would like my assistance?"

The dog growled.

"Perhaps we should remove him to a place of greater safety. Amber, for example."

Mandor lifted an eyebrow at Morgan.

"I'm sure it could be arranged."

"No!" said Irulan forcefully.

The strange red glow of Delluth's epidermis intensified, and his form became more amorphous, shifting away from any approximation of humanoid shape.

Morgan watched Delluth carefully, but still with an expression more of mild interest and amusement rather than concern. "Are you against taking him to Amber for his own sake, my love, or for political reasons? I like the Doc, and I'd hate to see him explode. If Mandor would be better able to keep him from going kaboom, or even bloop, by taking him to Amber, then I think this is a great time for some of that trust." He glanced over at Irulan. I'll toss my trump of Merlin to Mandy, you let him, Doc, and the Doc's best friend all go. I stay here, without a trump, and trust my fate to you. What do you say?"

"No!" said Mandor forcefully. "Don't be a fool. You have no idea of the scale of the forces opposing Merlin here in Chaos - nor the number of enemies he has who would be delighted to see him dead."

Irulan looked up from Delluth's twitching body across at Mandor ... and then at Morgan. Did it mean anything that her face was pale - that the skin around her eyes and lips looked stretched?

"Do it," she said to Morgan. "Give him your trump."

Morgan laughed with Merlin's face. "Oh,come on, Mandy," he said, as he slipped the trump sketch of Merlin out of his clothing with two fingers and with a flick of his wrist sent it through the air towards Mandor. "When you put it like that, how could I resist?"

But they were interrupted. As Morgan flicked the card, Zhenechka, who had been crouching by his master's body, suddenly moved with amazing speed, leaping to take the card in his mouth. Just as promptly he dropped it so that it landed between his front two paws as he faced Morgan, snarling at him but making no attempt either to destroy the trump, or to attack. The fact that he had yelped with pain as he dropped it might, of course, have had something to do with that.

"Well," Morgan said, staring at the dog. "That's interesting. OK, then, Zhenie, do you have a reason for doing that?"

Zhenechka's posture relaxed somewhat, and the snarl subsided to a low rumbling growl. But his response to the question was only a single, sharp bark.

"Oh serpent scales," said Mandor in disgust. "Are we going to play games with a dog here?"

He lifted one hand almost casually, beginning to trace a circle.

"Wait!" said Irulan. She looked at Morgan. "Well?"

"He's not just a pet," Morgan answered, still watching Zhenechka. "The Doc treats him like a companion, and talks to him as though he understands. There's something more going on here."

He crouched down, so he was on more of an equal level with the dog and said, "Can you understand me, Zhenie? One bark for yes, two for no."

Zhenechka stopped growling entirely during the first part of Morgan's remarks, and his magnificent tail wagged several times. He listened alertly to the man's question, then barked once, in a more conversational tone than before.

"This," said Mandor coldly, "is most fascinating, and no doubt will eventually enable us to rescue Timmy from whatever well he has had the misfortune to tumble into. But I cannot help be feel we should be dealing with matters of greater moment. Such as my return to Amber - with or without the good doctor."

"Is the Doc in immediate danger?" Morgan asked Zhenechka, ignoring Mandor. "Do we need to do something right now to save him?"

The dog gave a sighing moan, rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, and finished his comment by fixing Morgan with a distinctly aggravated look. Then he backed up a step so that he could point with his nose toward the trump of Merlin that had been lying between his paws. He lifted his head, glared at Morgan, then lowered his nose and pointed a second time; then he took two steps forward so that the Trump was blocked from Morgan's view.

His stare was intense, his attention plainly directed wholly on Morgan - though he did not quite meet the human's eyes at any point.

"Oh do go ahead and interpret," said Mandor. "As you seem to be the one claiming fluent canine. And as the dog now appears to be the one holding all the cards."

"Well, I think what he's saying is that he doesn't want us trumping the Doc back to Amber. It could be in his current state he'd react the same way you did when you walked into that cell. Which was pretty stupid of you, by the way, but I'll hold the laughing at Mandy bit for some night over brandy." He gestured at Delluth. "Is that it?" he asked the dog. "Or am I missing the point?"

Zhenechka's ears perked forward and his tongue lolled out happily at Morgan's first comments. (If he had any different opinion about Morgan insulting Mandor, it was impossible to distinguish the reactions.) At the first question, he managed to get out a single bark before Morgan went on; the second earned the man a pause and a dirty look, followed by two barks.

But then he looked down, shifted his feet, and glanced about, a picture of uncertainty. And then he looked appealingly at Irulan, turned his head to look at the still-collapsed Delluth, and looked back at her.

Irulan had watched the whole exchange under heavy lidded eyes.

"Delluth can stay," she said slowly. "But I made a bargain. And I cannot break my word at this point. Mandor is free to return to Amber."

Mandor smiled and gave a little bow.

"Thank you," he said. "And Morgan - would you like me to fill you in on all the enemies who are thirsting to dispose of Merlin, or should I let it come as an amusing surprise?"

Morgan bowed to Irulan before answering Mandor. "Thanks, love," he said. "I appreciate that." He turned to Zhenechka. "Want to let him have the card?" he asked.

The dog stepped away from the Trump sketch - and went to Irulan, brushing up against her hand.

Irulan leaned forward a little and began to caress and gently pull the dog's long ears, her face growing increasingly thoughtful.

Zhenchkha sighed and leaned into the caress, closing his eyes.

Finally [Morgan] responded to Mandor's question. "While I do appreciate surprises, I think this is one of those situations where I'd like to have a list of the players, at the very least. Can you give me the Reader's Digest version?"

"Helgram," said Mandor. "Factions within Hendrake - mostly those who had their nose shoved firmly out of joint by the take-over of Amber. Chanicut - that goes back to my grandfather's time ... has Merl ever talked to you about all this?"

"Other than dark muttering when we were both very, very drunk, no," Morgan answered.

Irulan looked up, still caressing Zhenechka.

"Don't forget your own family, Mandor. Your Father ... "

"Ah yes," sighed Mandor. "That would merit a few volumes of its own. Let's just say - Morgan ... don't phone home."

"Got it. He's not popular with the preppy crowd." Morgan nodded towards the trump. "I went to a bit of trouble to bring you that, so off you go, now, there's a good lad. Give Merle my love, and try to stay out of trouble."

Mandor nodded, stepped forward and lifted the trump and focused on it. A long pause ensued ... as though nothing was happening.

Mandor looked up, frowning.

"Are you sure ... " he began - and then suddenly he was wrenched away in a shockingly sudden swirl of blackness.

Irulan swore, very softly.

"Oh, that's just great," Morgan says. "Let me guess, he's just been kidnapped by someone else, right? Like the void-sucking Keeper of the Logrus or someone?"

Zhenechka was now looking toward Delluth, but staying close to Irulan.

"To me," said Irulan, "that looked more like a pressing invitation from yo ... Merlin's stepfather. We may need to ... ah.... the Doctor is starting to recover."

She moved swiftly to him and dropped to her knees, taking his hand and chafing it. Morgan could see her long pale neck as her head bent, beautiful and deceptively vulnerable.

Morgan followed closely, looking down at Irulan as she attended to the doctor.

The dog was already at his master's other side, not quite crowding him but watching anxiously.

For a few moments, it seemed doubtful that Delluth was even breathing, he lay so still, his face slack and colorless. Then he took a visible breath, and something like animation began returning to his form, as if he was entering a state of more or less normal sleep.

A few breaths later, he stirred a little. The hand Irulan held abruptly tensed, gripping hers.

"Ru," he murmured, and opened his eyes. Briefly, he looked up at both the observers - or perhaps only toward the ceiling: his eyes mirrored such profound shock that it could only be measured by the depth of a soul.

Then he winced, and raised his free hand to press it against his re-closed eyes and his forehead, groaning with obvious pain.

"Rest," said Irulan - but there was also a note of warning in her voice. "Don't try to speak ... "

His only response was another, somewhat stifled groan, but he let go of her hand - the better to try to hold his skull together, it seemed. Zhenechka lay down beside him and nosed the side of his head.

She turned to Morgan now. "Do you wish to go to SawalWays?" she asked. "You might prefer to contact someone who might be ... more sympathetic first."

Morgan grimaced. "Getting involved in Chaosian politics is not what I came here for," he complained. He watched the doctor while he talked to Irulan. "Did you have someone in mind, o best beloved?"

"Despil," Irulan said at once. "He has been injured in the wars - and yet he is more likely to listen to me me." She met Morgan's gaze evenly. "I have his trump. And can utilise it - if the blinding is not complete. I won't know until we try."

Morgan held her gaze, then nodded. "OK, then, this is another of those trust points, isn't it? I'll see your raise. Do it." He smiled. "Ain't we got fun?" he said.

His attention went back to Delluth.

Meanwhile, Delluth let go of his head long enough to fumble in his jacket, withdrawing a hand-sized leather case. Opening his eyes just enough to squint at it, he unbuckled the strap and after a moment's pained study pulled out of it a glass vial, a bit smaller in size than his little finger.

At this point Delluth stopped, laying the open case on his chest and resting his other forearm across his brow, the vial clutched in that hand. Zhenechka pushed close and nosed the side of his master's head, whining deep in his throat, and Delluth produced a slight, strained smile at this.

After a couple of breaths, he addressed himself to the problem of opening the vial. Holding it went well enough, but he paled again, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, as he struggled to get a grip on the tiny stopper and extract it.

Morgan knelt beside Delluth and tried to take the bottle from him. "Let me help, Doc," he said.

Irulan, meanwhile, had slid a trump card from an obsidian case and was focusing on it intently.

It was pathetically easy to take the bottle away. Delluth squinted uncertainly at the still-disguised Morgan, then said faintly, "Two drops, please." He held his right hand up a little, the back of the index finger slightly extended. The hand didn't tremble - much.

Morgan carefully measured out two drops onto the doctor's finger, then watched as he self-administers the medicine. He remained silent, judging it best not to force the man to talk right now.

Delluth swallowed the medicine and closed his eyes again. After a moment or two, his color began to improve, but a full and instantaneous recovery did not appear to be an effect of whatever the medicine was.

Irulan slipped the card back; her expression was not amused.

"I don't believe it," she said. "Clumsy ... by Mandor's standards. Too clumsy perhaps. He wants to lead us into Sawall. Or someone wants to lead us into Sawall.

"The question is ... are we prepared to go?"

By his blank look, Delluth was not sure who she was talking about, or whether he was included in the "we."

"You know this territory better than I do, dearest," Morgan answered with a grin. "I don't know enough to make a guess about what is or is not too stupid to do."

Delluth took a deep breath, and pitched his voice to gain attention. "My lady, I need to speak with Lord Suhuy," he said - quite possibly the last thing Irulan would expect him to say. "But first, to Amba Heldt and Solitaire Helgram."

He paused. He did not look capable of getting up off the floor, much less carrying out this program of conversations, but he held Irulan's gaze and went on. "The Logrus is trying to get them to do something. It would be nice to know what that is, or what they think it is. And how it fits with Duke Helgram's little program."

"Solitaire Helgram?" echoed Irulan. "She is a danger, perhaps ... but what connection lies between her and the Heldt girl ... " She hesitated, moved slightly aside so that her back was against the wall, and her eyes took on a distant gaze.

Meanwhile, Morgan became conscious of a distance noise in the Ways - a low rumbling. And the dog's hackles began to rise.

"Something's happening," Morgan said. "You hear that noise, Doc?" His hand moved to his sword as he turned slowly in a circle, trying to place a direction on the rumbling.

Now in the midst of slowly closing up his little traveling apothecary's shop, Delluth listens. "Not a good sign," he says. "Will you help me get up, please, in case we have to leave quickly?"

Morgan assisted Delluth to rise. "I can carry you if we have to run," he says. "No false pride now, I've had to carry injured comrades to safety before. Better than you trying to make it on your own and slowing us down, right?"

Between Morgan's strong arm and Zhenchka's support from the opposite side, Delluth stayed on his feet despite the wave of dizziness that accompanied the change of position. Upright, he looked drawn and possibly a little thinner than before. At Morgan's words, however, he grinned cheerfully. "I've been carried off the field before."

The rumbling was growing louder; it sounded halfway between a thunderstorm and the march of many feet. This being Chaos, it was entirely possible it was both and there was a small army that travelled with its own weather, rather as people might take a bottle to a party.

Morgan realised that Delluth might be weak, but Irulan appeared seriously distracted. And this small room was doubtless warded, besides being chosen, it would appear, because it was easy to defend.

"I wonder if there's any food in here," Delluth went on, quite as if imminent potential threats were nothing unusual. He sniffed the air, echoed a moment later by Zheneckha, and looked around.

Morgan drew his sword and faced the door. "Any other ways into here?" he asked, as he moved closer to the door, cocking his head to one side to listen better.

"I don't know," Delluth replied. "This isn't one of my lady's public rooms."

Irulan suddenly spoke aloud. "I think you'll find this Morgan a fellow of infinite resource. But meeting Duke Helgram ... is perhaps not a good idea. Especially not in the Grove of the Unicorn."

Then she seemed to become absorbed in her trump conversation again.

Delluth glanced toward her, then back to the bowl of fruit he had discovered on a low table beyond Mandor's former seat. "What happened to Mandor while I was out, anyway?" he asked the real Morgan, inspecting a mottled pink and yellow orb.

"I gave him Merle's trump, so he could get back to Amber while I stayed here and played house with my best beloved," Morgan answered, without taking his eyes off the door. He took a few practice swings with Merlin's sword, getting used to the feel of it. "It seemed as though he wasn't able to get through, and then he was suddenly swept away in one of those very chaosful swirls of darkness. Ooooh! Very spoooky!"

"Well, damn," Delluth observed, a bit indistinctly because of his mouthful of fruit. Some pinkish juice had leaked onto his chin.

The sound of advancing feet was coming closer. Then there was a pause, followed by a murmur of low voices. A pause ... silence.

Delluth snatched up two more pieces of fruit and moved just as silently across the room to be closer to Irulan. He was paced by Zhenechka, whose teeth were showing in something that was not quite a snarl as he stared toward the door.

Then a black cloud began to seep under the door.

Irulan still appeared intent on her trump.

Eyeing the cloud and consulting his recollections from medical service in various Chaosian wars, Delluth murmured quietly - but somehow urgently - "My lady!"

"Not wanting to bother you, dearest love," Morgan called out, sword pointing towards the cloud, "But a little help of the sorcerous kind wouldn't go amiss here. My cloud-fighting skills are a trifle rusty." He made a quick ballestra, leaping lightly forward and then lunging, piercing the cloud experimentally before leaping back away once more.

Where he struck it, the cloud suddenly boiled deep red and surged up his sword. As he leapt back, a long tendril of cloud followed it, and Morgan felt a sudden tug, as though it was attempting to yank the sword back.

"Delluth!" called Irulan. "Can you disperse a demon?"

She raised a hand as she spoke and the cloud stopped dead, and though she had drawn a line it could not cross. But it continued to boil under the door, denser than ever, and the tendril attached to the cloud and to Morgan's sword seemed to thicken.

Morgan pivoted to the right, pulling the sword, and the attached tendril, past his body. With a flick of his left hand a dagger was suddenly slashing upwards, in an attempt to sever the tendril.

"I'll try, my lady," the doctor responded, and concentrated.

The tendril divided; one part wrapped around Morgan's sword - the other around Morgan's dagger - and it was slowly tugging him towards the centre of the cloud.

On the good side, its attention was pretty much solely focused on Morgan now - or rather his weapons.

Delluth gently lobbed one of his pieces of fruit, remarking "'Ware grenade" as he did so.

Morgan's reaction to Delluth's words was instantaneous. He released the sword and dagger, letting the cloud take them, and leapt away from the door, rolling to spring to his feet beside Irulan, two daggers appearing in his hands as he took stock of what happened.

The fruit struck the door near the bottom, and its skins broke and splashed out a clear, slightly viscous liquid on the door and on the demon below. A sizzling sound and a ferociously bad smell came from the semisolid demon; the door's surface blackened.

The second ex-fruit followed almost before the first had finished splashing, with the same results.

"No boom," Morgan said, in a slightly disappointed voice. "I was expecting a boom."

"Maybe next time," Delluth replied, watching the results.

Boom or no boom, it appeared effective. The tendrils withered and fell to the ground, boiled back into black smoke and swirled back under the door. There seemed to be a furious, if low-voiced argument going on outside the door.

"We should leave now, I think," said Irulan, who seemed free of whatever connection had restrained here. "Do you have any preferences? I was thinking ... our own Ways. If they stand yet."

Morgan stood and shrugged Merlin's shoulders. "Away from here, that's my only suggestion." He approached his sword and dagger and tentatively nudged them with the toe of a boot. "We can debate what to do next once we're somewhere safe. Safer."

Delluth looked grim. "The forest interchange was damaged but still open a few segments ago, my lady," he said, and quickly named a few more places that were apparently in good shape. "And Jerusha thought the Meskhenet Wing hadn't been bothered. That's where my rooms are," he added for Morgan's benefit.

As he spoke, he quickly stepped across the room and retrieved the bowl the fruit had been in. Carrying it back toward Irulan, he fished out some kind of nut and turned it in his fingers.

"Can you trump Jerusha?" asked Irulan. "If you can get back there ... " She hesitated, and looked at Morgan. "I have an idea, for you and me. How much of a risk are you prepared to take ... for Merlin? Would you come with me to Sawallways?"

Judging that they were no longer attached to any shadowy tendrils, and unlikely to dissolve his hand should he touch them, Morgan picked up and sheathed his sword and dagger. "Wither thou goest..." he said in answer to Irulan's question.

Meanwhile Delluth one-handedly fished his slender pack of trumps out of his jacket pocket, then put the bowl down on a nearby chair to find the right card. All these movements suggested continued exhaustion held at bay. "There where, my lady?" he asked. "The Thelbane, or home?"

"I will contact you," said Irulan. "Go - and do what seems safest for our house until I reach you. Only in dire need should you endeavor to contact me."

He held her gaze for a moment, then gave a half-bow, saying, "As you will, my lady." When he straightened, he had Jerusha's Trump at the top of the group. "Good luck," he said to Morgan, with an unreadable glance. "And if you'll take my advice, 'your majesty,' you'd best try to be less flippant when you're at home."

She reached out a hand to Morgan; her eyes were flittering with a strange grey light.

"Come," she said to him. "I can ... do this."

Her words seemed more encouragement to herself than addressed to him.

[exeunt to new thread]

Delluth stared at the Trump, hoping the headache still lurking in the back of his skull would not be encouraged by the effort of activating the item.