Time Under Chaos | TimeUnderChaos / Points of Contact browse

Index | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Points of Contact

(Continued from Ishtarways - Tasha, Amba, Helena and Tear)

Later on in the day, once her guests had left and packing was in good process, Helena took a moment to find a quiet spot out in the garden and see how her uncle was doing.

She stared at the trump of Despil, willing the contact to form...

For a long moment it seemed as though the trump would not be answered. Then it flickered into life—for long enough for Helena to see Despil's face, drawn and haggard with pain.

Then the contact was severed abruptly—the shock was to her psyche, but the closest physical comparison would be if someone had slammed a heavy weight down when her hand was underneath.

Helena startled and dropped the trump. She gazed at it askance as it lay on the ground at her feet, as if she half-expected it to move on its own or show some other unexpected behavior.

It stayed still and laid there innocuously. She reached down and gingerly picked it up and quickly put it away.

Pausing for a moment to regain her equilibrium and wait for the headache to go away, she wondered what the hell just happened? Whatever it was, Despil looked bad.

Lord Suhuy said that Despil took a message back to Fiona, so contacting her was a logical next step. Curious and concerned, Helena tried her mother's trump next.

There was no response—but then, Fiona frequently blocked trump calls. It as one reason why Helena had always been more in contact with her stepfather.

Helena cursed softly and put Fiona's trump away as well. Torren was next in queue...

His voice came to her quietly—although she couldn't see him.

"Yes?"

Sudden relief came through the trump from Helena, replacing her earlier concern. Her words came in a rush. "Someone finally answered! I tried trumping Despil but I was cut off—rather abruptly! Father, he looked as if he was in pain... And then I tried Mother, but she didn't answer. Are you with her now? Where are you?"

"We're rather busy," said Torren, and something in his tone of voice reminded Helena of when she was young and new come to Chaos. "We will be with you as soon as we are able."

Helena blinked with some puzzlement at the tone and the lack of a visual contact. Something was wrong, she suspected, but there would be no advantage to pushing for more information. Torren's tone made it very clear that he was reminding her of her place, that she was the child and they were the parents.

She stewed about this briefly, annoyed and hurt at being dismissed in such a manner, then reigned in her reaction and said, "I'm leaving with the others to go to Amber soon. I just thought you'd want to know, and I did want to say goodbye."

His tone softened. "And I to you. I will be there, Kitten. I promise."

Again, a name from the distant past...well, distant for Helena, at all events.

"Now," he said, "if you'll excuse me—there are things that I must do to be back with you soon...You attend to your packing, and I'll be there soon."

Again she gave him a puzzled look, but then nodded, accepting the situation. "Yes, Father. I'll see you soon."

Helena broke off the contact and sighed. Back to packing. She put the trump away with her others and stood to return to her rooms.

But even as she was reaching them, one of the serving demons interrupted her.

"The Keeper is here, lady," she whispered with a strong lisp. "He wishes to see your father...but when I said he was absent he said...he said...

"He supposed you would do instead."

"Oh, really? How nice he has such confidence in me," Helena replied drolly. "Escort him to the red parlor and offer him something to drink. I'll be there presently."

Helena wasn't quite there presently. She continued on to her rooms first, wanting to make sure the packing was proceeding smoothly. She took her time with this—she only wanted to be thorough!—and finally arrived at the red parlor a quarter of greensky later. She held in her hands the two dresses Amba and she had worn earlier, folded neatly and tied up with a black bow.

"Lord Suhuy, what a pleasant surprise to see you here so soon after the events of this morning. What can Ishtar do for you?" Helena inquired, smiling pleasantly.

"Get you to safety for a start," said Suhuy sourly. "And if you want a parting gift, ask your Mother for the pretty ring she's wearing. Let it upset the other end of the universe for a change."

Helena stiffened as she stared at Suhuy. She opened her mouth, paused, thought hard about what he'd said, where Torren said Fiona had gone, and the strange trump conversation she'd had with Torren earlier, then started again.

Best to only ask one question, and make it direct. If she asked multiple questions, experience told her that Suhuy would pick to answer the one she was least interested in and ignore the others. And if the question wasn't direct and to the point, his answer would be likewise.

"What did Lord Sawall do to provoke Mother into some sorcerous display that offended him so much that I'll be safer in Amber than I am here in Ishtarways?" she asked.

"Serpent only knows," said Suhuy bitterly. "And maybe your father. He was the one who trumped me in the middle of my belated breakfast to ask me to see that you were all ready to go. And to accompany you. And I hate the bloody place."

Several undefinable emotions passed over Helena's face in quick succession. "Excuse me, please," she told Suhuy through clenched teeth as she pulled forth Torren's trump again.

She stared at the card and willed it to come alive.

But before there could be any answer, she heard a frightened babble of voices (and other sounds) from the House demons. They seemed terrified by something overhead...coming lower...

And suddenly, in the middle of the courtyard before them was a House Sawall wyvern, hissing and snarling...its long neck suddenly shooting out, and its blunt ugly head making a sudden snap at the nearest demon. Seated on its back was Jurt Sawall.

"Well. Not who I was trying to contact, but he'll do," Helena said cantankerously as she replaced Torren's trump in her deck. "Are you coming to the courtyard, Lord Suhuy? I'm sure the upcoming conversation will be an interesting one."

Without waiting for Suhuy's reply, Helena spun on her heel and marched out to the courtyard to greet Ishtarway's newest arrival.

Jurt dismounted, barking a command at the wyvern. He handed the reins to a handler and began removing the gloves and jacket he had been offered earlier in these very Ways. "Helena," he greeted his niece with a casual smile. "Are Tear and Tasha about? I fear we need make haste for Amber. Your...father suggested that for everyone's safety sooner would be better than later."

"And why exactly is that, Uncle Jurt?" Helena asked. "What has happened?"

"I believe that some of your mother's actions and my father's reactions were the proverbial straws," he sighed. "Is Amba anyplace close, too?"

"Amba has returned home to pack and Tear accompanied Tasha back to Minobeeways. We're to all meet at Minobeeways at the turning of orangesky to go on to Amber." Helena paused briefly, noting that Jurt didn't really answer her question. Time to be more specific. "Was blood drawn on either side? Is that why the rush and concern for our safety?"

"With a little allowance in the term blood, the answer is yes, on both sides, and no matter your facility in the dance forms, I don't think you wish to be here when your adopted House and mine decide to draw more," Jurt explained. He looked to the sky and nodded. Orangesky would have to do.

Helena clenched her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. Strong emotion flooded her body, and with tenuous control she reigned it in. For now. "How badly hurt was Mother?" she asked Jurt, her voice husky.

He answered casually, "I'm sure she appreciates your concern, Helena, but we can talk of such things in Amber as easily as here."

Cocking his head with a small smile, Jurt added, "I must admit, you're somehow much more attractive than Clytemnestra when you're angry. Interesting."

The return look she gave him was arctic in quality and proportion. "Bite me," she replied crassly, her sword dancing epithet at odds with her fine dress and braided hair.

Helena turned forcefully on her heel again and strode back inside, leaving Jurt in the courtyard alone.

Jurt chuckled and watched the sway of her hips as she stalked away. It seemed odd to be laughing in the face of impending House wars, but there he stood. Once she was gone he offered a nod of greeting to the Keeper, curiousity coloring his eyes even as he shrugged and turned back to the Wyvern.

"If you'll ask my niece to make sure she's prompt, I'd appreciate it Lord Suhuy," he asked after he mounted.

"When you've put her in this mood?" said Suhuy sourly. "Thanks—but I'd rather give the Logrus a springclean. She'll be ready on time—she has honour snapping at her heels. One day, she'll probably give it a good kicking. I hope I'm somewhere the far side of the Abyss when she does."

Jurt smiled and nodded understanding. He spent his time waiting in keeping the wyvern calm, scratching it roughly beneath its jaw and feeding it a few bits of game he had brought from the kitchens.

Once inside Ishtarways proper, Helena fumed and paced and finally calmed down enough to try Torren's trump again. There was no answer, not even an impression of contact, and Helena fumed and paced some more in response.

Likely Torren was still attending to Fiona, which meant that whatever happened was serious. But Jurt referred to Fiona in the present tense just a moment ago, which implied she was still alive. And Jurt's manner had been casual, which might have served to reassure her if he'd in turn shown some concern over the fact that their Houses were about to go to war. Which he hadn't.

Helena paused long enough to kick the doorframe before continuing to pace.

A large part of her wanted to stay, but Torren wanted her to go. Not to mention the fact that things were set into motion and people were waiting on her. She could always trump him later, after a day or two, and find out how Mother was doing then. It would, all things considered, be best for her to continue her plans.

She ran a hand over her face. "All right! I'm going!" she said to thin air.

Helena first stopped at her parent's rooms and laid a parting gift on their bed. A small box, wrapped in gold paper and tied with silver ribbon, it held two trumps of herself. Hopefully they would get used.

She next visited her rooms to oversee any last minute complications and change out of her dress. There were no complications, and it was arranged for her luggage to be transported to Amber separately. She grabbed a knapsack that she filled with a few personal effects, then walked away from her rooms without a backward glance. She fully intended to be back someday.

Amba had not trumped her yet. Helena decided she would trump Amba once they reached Minobeeways and bring her through then. Onward and upward.

Helena walked back out into the courtyard as greensky began its fade into orange. She wore brown leather pants, black boots and gloves, and a short red leather jacket. "Ready to go?" she asked Jurt with no preamble. "It's almost orangesky."

"When ever you are," he agreed. He was already in the saddle and offered her a hand so she might mount behind him.

But before she could take his hand, she felt the touch of a trump.

"Bide a moment," she said to Jurt. "Trump call." She opened herself up to it.

"Helena," Amba said warmly. "Are you ready to go to Minobeeways to meet Tasha and Tear?"

Emotions held tightly in check faltered briefly at the sight of Amba's face and her comforting presence in Helena's mind. She shoved them back down.

"Yes. Come through..." Helena told Amba as she held out her hand to her.

Amba came through, the demon dutifully next to her on the courtyard as she did. With everything in sight, Amba caught sight of the wyvern and its passenger.

"Lord Jurt," she said, nodding her head. "I was under the impression that we were going to Minobeeways together—did something happen to change plans?"

"No, I just returned from Sawall with him, but if you have a better means of transport?" Jurt smiled. "If not, I suppose we'll all know each other a bit better by the end of the trip."

"Hmmm," Amba said. "As I have my bags here, and it would be a tight fit, why don't you fly ahead, and trump us through when you arrive, 'Uncle Jurt'?" she asked innocently.

Helena smiled inwardly at Amba's appellation. "I'm having my luggage sent separately and you can add your own to mine," she volunteered, her sights set on a wyvern ride,"that is, if Uncle Jurt's pet can carry all three of us." Her expression as she looked up at him matched Amba's perfectly.

"Oh!" Amba rejoined. "I didn't think of doing that—if I could, that would be marvelous!"

"And," she added, looking at Helena, "I'm sure we can fit Jurt on the wyvern somehow."

"Either would work fine, if one of you can provide a Trump," he shrugged. "But I'm confident that the wyvern can handle both of you." An amused smile crossed Jurt's face. "He's got two claws."

He again offered his hand, "But, as someone mentioned, Orangesky won't wait on us."

Helena took Jurt's hand and climbed up behind him easily, then stretched out her own hand to Amba.

Amba took Helena's hand in turn climbing up behind her, holding on as she waited for the wyvern to take to the skies.

Jurt shifted forward a bit, enjoying the feel of a young woman pressed against his back, but sure that his brother would complain if he dropped either of his passengers. "Hold tight," he suggested as the wyvern was urged into flight.

Helena didn't take Jurt's admonition to heart—she assumed she'd keep her seat as she did on a horse, by holding tight with her legs—until the wyvern took off steeply and she started to slide backwards into Amba. She quickly threw her arms around Jurt's waist, all thoughts of letting go to wave goodbye to Lord Suhuy gone.

It was a very tight squeeze for three.

The wyvern didn't seem to mind too much.

Perverse humor prompted him to turn toward MinobeeWays in a diving turn once they had departed from Ishtar. He flew slower than he might've alone, but still a wyvern needed maintain a certain speed, especially with such a load. Keeping the acrobatics to a minimum, they skimmed the tops of the pink lorax trees and made best time, even as the sky began to fill with the brilliant orange that one never saw in Amber.

Helena felt her stomach drop as Jurt took the diving turn and decided she rather liked the sensation. By the time they were skimming the trees she was smiling in spite of the events of the day.

(Continued in All at Minobeeways)