Tear Comes to Court: BeginningsIt seemed a normal day in Five Courts. The windows of Gilliam's shop were open, letting in the scents and sounds of Five Corners. A young woman stood in front of the store's courtyard, selling sweet rolls to passersby. She sang a melodic song about a love struck hero sailing the Golden Circle in search of his lover; lost in a terrible storm. At her little bench by the window, Tear hummed along with the tune as she worked on her current project; the clock's innards spilled out in as if prepared for a session of extispicy. She filed the teeth on one of the gears, watching her uncle and E'lbram talking by the fire. If there were two love struck people in the world, it was those two. Not that they would admit it. But even at ten, the young girl could see it in their timid blushes, hear it in their laughter. But adults were forever a silly lot and their actions far beyond the comprehensions of a child. She began to polish the new gear, making the bronze shine. It helped her focus her mind. Ever since her 'bad dream,' Tear's mind had raced like a crazed thoroughbred; a writhing nest of thoughts. It scared her and excited her at the same time. But for today, she wanted some rest from the barrage of images and information. She picked up the next gear and began marking it with her compass. Slow, precise motions, beautiful mathematical structure. Each etching, every movement created a sense of order, a sense of peace, a gentle quiet. Too quiet. Tear noticed the peddler's song had stopped and glanced up curiously. There were a contingent of very smartly dressed Chaosian guards making their way through the market place - one of those strange groups that looked like gigantic black and read centipedes, walking on their rear twenty legs, the rest of their bodies levered upright. And they were heading towards Tear's home. Tear blinked and then watched in wonderment. She'd never seen so many guards all at once outside of a parade. Usually it meant trouble for someone. And when she realized that someone happened to be her, she felt a ball of slushy fear settle in her tummy. "Uncle Gilliam?!" she said, a franticness in her voice. "There are guards coming." She hopped down from her chair and rushed to his side. He'd already stood up to see what she was on about. His towering frame gave her comfort and she leaned into his side. He'd protect her, she knew. But from what exactly? There was a sudden fierce rap on the door. Under Gilliam swallowed, his Adam's apple working frantically. "Come in!" he quavered. The door opened and several of the insectoid forms pattered there way in, their flat eyes (set in their flat heads) surveying the shop carefully. "We are sent by the Lord Mandor," one of them said, in a high, nasal voice. Now that they were closer, Tear was aware of their scent, which was oddly like butterscotch. "We have come for the Baroness." Tear's eyes widened with fear. She'd seen her less-than-human brethren at a distance, but never in this close proximity. The sugary scent unnerved her deeply. It reminded her of her trip to Stonetears to say goodbye to a final Auntie Witherskin; whom had watched over her many a time. The air smelled of roses, but she could sense another scent beneath that one; the scent of death, of decay. Now she could smell menace beneath the sweetness. She immediately went behind her uncle, poking her head out from around him. "No!" she said, finding a little courage. Well, as much as a ten-year girl could when faced with soldiers. There was a rattling sound as the red and black scales rubbed together. Then there was a short hiss from two of the more prominent insectoids. "We mean the Baroness no harm," said the leader. "Lord Mandor has a present for her which he wishes to present in person ... " If the high nasal voice could sound ingratiating, it was striving to now. "You can bring your friend," it added. Tear came out from behind her uncle and cocked her head, staring up, up to the odd creature. It had said she would not be harmed. And a present. For her? Besides, how could something so shiny and neat be really bad? She shuffled her feet and looked down shyly. "Okay," she said. The little girl glanced back at her uncle and E'lbram for confirmation. Adults knew more about this stuff. If they it was okay, then it really was. "I'm coming too," said E'lbram firmly. The insectoids conferred and then nodded agreement. "We go now," the leader said. It was clear that they intended to escort her all the way up top the castle - quite a long walk for a little girl. But then, the insectoids rarely used carriages. Tear scurried over to the small box beside her workbench. From the tangle of blankets, she pulled out a ball of fur and ears. The small animal gave a tired protest, but when she buried it into her chest, it fell back to sleep almost immediately. "He said I could bring my friend," she pronounced, taking E'lbram's hand. With one last look back at her home, Tear followed the creatures; keeping pace despite her short legs. It was a tremendous walk - but there was so much to see as she made her way to the Castle - especially for a little girl who had never left the comforts of Five Corners. The winding road up Kolvir to the castle fascinated Tear tremendously. The vantage point provided her a view of the city stretching out before her in a vibrant carpet of spires and rooftops; a vast world the little girl had not even imagined before. In the distance, she could see the blue line of the ocean; that wondrous place E'lbram had told her about. And above her loomed the majesty of Kolvir and its precious jewel: Castle Amber. She paused and pointed at every new miracle, of which there were many. Her soft voice became a chaotic flurry of the words, "What's that? And that?" Soon E'lbram had to lift the little girl onto her shoulders when Tear's 'side trips' began to slow the procession to a virtual standstill. This didn't dampen her excitement one whit; it just provided her with a better view. Even Tanstaafl poked his nose out from her pocket now and again; a miracle in of itself. Before she knew it, the soldiers were leading them up the front stairs into the castle. Tear finally fell silent, her voice stolen by the sheer scope of the building before her. If she'd felt small before, she felt positively minuscule now. "Oh my," she whispered. "Why would they want me to come here, auntie? It's so…big!" Her aunt shook her head - but Tear fancied she was almost as apprehensive as Tear herself. Only Tanstaafl was unabashed, content to gaze around curiously. Clearly they were expected. The insectoid guard were dismissed and a human footman (of rather inhuman formality, however) took over, ushering them through rooms that became grander and grander ... At one point, they seemed to have stepped into a room of gold. The furniture was gilded with its warm hue, the tapestries showed rich golden patterns in the garments of the lords, ladies and fantastic mythical beasts depicted there. Even the rich carpets that lined the floors seemed to have been worked with golden threads. And there were people in the room, dressed in richer clothes than ever Tear had ever seen. But the footman was hurrying them out of the room before Tear could take in much more than a mere impression of bare white shoulders, towering headdresses and full silken skirts like the inverted petals of exotic flowers. Time enough, though, to be aware of sidelong looks, of a couple of sharp gasps and silken skirts whisked away. Then the room was left behind. Tear clung to her aunt, not able to look at this strangely beautiful people. They were so unlike the people of Five Corners. She knew enough that that must be nobles. But why did they react so? It confused and scared her. Fortunately, the footman's path took them back to a room of more wonders and the looks were immediately forgotten. Now they found themselves in a long corridor, empty of any people, and lined with windows on one side. A darkness outside for some reason made it impossible to see what it overlooked, but the entire corridor, ceiling, wall and floor, were painted with elaborate representation of roses - golden, red, pink, white - which climbed and twisted their way over all the surfaces, vivid in the light of the candelabra that had been placed on the small tables stretching the length of the corridor. Tear gave E'lbram a pat. "Down. Please, please, please!" she commanded, intoxicated on the dreams and marvels of this place. After being set on her feet, she gave her auntie a quick hug of thanks and scurried out into the center of the room; Tanstaafl mashed to her chest. Then she began going from side to side, looking under tables and up at paintings. The ceiling held her interest. She scratched her chin, turning around in circles beneath it. "It means something doesn't it?" she said to one of the soldiers. "About the family that lived here, right?" The footman glanced down at her with a faint frown. "You would have to ask one of the Family that," he said slowly. But then he continued to lead them to a door at the end of the rose corridor, and knocked. The door was opened quickly though - so quickly that it was probably that the liveried man on the other side had been awaiting the knock. If anything, his livery - although in the same style - was even more impressive than that of the man who had escorted them this far, with elaborate gold braid around the cuffs and collar. He nodded dismissal to their escort, and then stood back to usher them in to another long room, set at right angles to the rose corridor. This room, Tear saw, was a conservatory. It had a glass dome, supported by a strange intricate metal framework, which soared high over their heads, so high that entire trees were growing within the conservatory, as well as bushes and exotic flowers that were taller than Tear herself. "Wait here," said the new escort, and with that he stalked off and disappeared through a door on the far side of the room. Tear stared up at him and then nodded politely. "'Kay," she said, hardly seeing him for the opulence around them. She'd never dreamed of such a place. Above Tear, the sky could be glimpsed through the panes of glass. An artificially crafted little stream that flowed through the conservatory, falling in a small cascade almost at her feet. Tanstaafl was enchanted with it. Tear put the little creature down, so he could explore. He was still learning to talk, but his curiosity rivaled her own. He wove in and out of her feet as they began to venture through the room. They instinctively knew one another so well that they never got tangled up, stepping and moving as one. The stream appeared particularly interesting. She went over to it, gazing down into the clear water. The stream lazily wound its way through the rich foliage to a manmade pond. Tear leaned over the sides and notice the tiny fish that swam through the reeds and water lilies. Tanstaafl patted the water with his paw, sending the fish darting for cover. "Food," he pronounced. "Fish," Tear corrected, rubbing his ears. He gave her a doubtful look. "Food!" She shook her head, "No, no. They're not food. They're someone's pets. You can't eat them." He gave a snort, as if to say, 'You just watch me.' Tear smirked and stood back up to go investigate some of the flowers. She noticed some she recognized from books. She pointed to a yellow orchid nestled amongst some mossy rocks. "That's a Sophronitis, I think," she explained to E'lbram; who was hovering nearby. Tear began naming several flowers, losing herself in the moment completely. So lost was she that she didn't hear a door open and close behind her – or see the tall and fair young woman who had entered. Tear finally turned around and blinked in wonderment as she caught sight of the angelic woman. The woman was young, just out of her teens perhaps, with blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. She was wearing a casual-looking white dress, bare at one shoulder, with a belt of gold links at her waist, sandals at her feet. Smiling at the older woman, she bent slightly to smile at Tear, then blink in surprise at the fennec. Caught off-guard and terribly shy, she scooped up Tanstaafl and disappeared behind E'lbram's skirt. A moment later, two violet eyes peered out to see more of this beautiful stranger. "I see you like orchids," she said. "Fitting, I would say." The smile returned, showing even white teeth. "Solitaire, isn't it? My name is Clytemnestra." "Uh-huh," was the only thing the little girl could manage. She just stared at Clytemnestra, her mouth hanging open in awe. After a moment, she came out from behind her aunt and gave a modest curtsey. Then she smiled, "You're so beautiful. Are you a noble person?" "Noble is a state of mind," Cly said, her smile turning a little mischievous in response to some inner jest. "But yes, I am the Princess Fiona's daughter. Welcome." Tear smiled brightly, her violet eyes glimmer in wonderment. She stepped forward and curtsied again; a little more confident this time. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess. And thank you. I've never seen so many pretty things. Not ever!" Tanstaafl, intrigued by the possibility of obtaining a new admirer, padded over and sat in front of Cly at a perfect distance for scratching. He let out a faint chuff that sounded oddly like, "Well?" "Aren't you darling," Cly responded. She knelt, keeping her back straight in an elegant movement, then hesitated, concentrating, before reaching out. Long, manicured nails scratched behind his ears, then along his jaw, then down to his chest, finding the spot guaranteed to have him on his back and all four legs kicking spasmodically in the air. Tanstaafl's brain turned off and he melts into a puddle of happily twitching fur. This time he distinctly forms a human word. "Joy." Cly looked up at Tear (or at her, since they were closer to the same height, now) and said, "I didn't know you had a pet." Tear nods, shuffling her foot in a circle. "Well. Tanstaafl sort of appeared after my bad dream, Princess. The doctor said I pulled him out of Shadow. But I don't know how. But he needs me. And I think he's very funny." Tear took a step closer, staring at the angelic woman. "Are you the person I'm supposed to meet?" She quickly added, "M'lady." "Oh, I suppose I'm one of several," Cly said, then straightened. "I was told that I would be meeting a very remarkable young lady." "Really? Will I meet her too?" Tear said; the compliment going right over her head. Cly chuckled. "I meant you, my dear," she said. "I had heard the story of you and your dream." Tear blinked and then lowered her gaze, embarrassed for several reasons. She made another circle with her foot and shrugged her tiny shoulders. "It was just a dream," she said. "But they tell me it was a special one." Her violet eyes timidly rose to meet Cly's; curiosity providing her the courage to do so. "Have you had that dream too, Princess?" A smile. "No," Cly said. "It is not my path to take. Instead, I became the Aspect of Love." She looked down to where Tanstaafl was wriggling frantically. "It is a different dream." "Well, you sure are pretty enough for the honorarium, Princess!" Tear beamed adoringly. She reached out and lightly touched Cly's cheek, awed and fascinated. "Thank you." Cly closed her eyes slightly and inclined her head a fraction at the touch. Tanstaafl rolled onto his belly and arched his back with a slight cricking sound. His big eyes got even bigger as they stared up at Cly. "Ups!" he said. "Ups!" Cly opened her eyes wide and hesitated a fraction again. "My touch can have a profound effect on some, especially males," she cautioned, but picked Tanstaafl up and held him in the crook of her arm. Willing to take the risk, Tanstaafl snuggled into the crook of her arm and squirmed about to get comfy. He let out a happy chuff, looking particularly proud of himself to have won over a goddess. Gazing upward with those big eyes, he waited patiently to be rewarded for this accomplishment. "Pretty lady. Ears!" Tear giggled musically. "He likes you. Me too. I was so afraid of all the people out there in the hall. They were. Not nice. They looked at me funny." "The Court can sometimes be cruel," Cly said. "It is one reason that I was asked to meet you. To prepare you. Never fear, Solitaire. Soon enough, you'll find that those people who stare and are rude are of no consequence. And those who are of consequence... do not." Tear nodded, listening to this sage advice. With a soft smile, she said, "Tear. My friends call me Tear. Please." She held her folded hands in front of her, swinging them from side to side. And with childlike celerity, the little girl changed the subject again. "Are there other Aspects, Princess? Do they all come from dreams? Does that mean you're like Venus or Aphrodite from Shadow Earth? I read lots." This brought another smile. "Earth is a shadow of a shadow," she said, "but yes. There are gods, and goddesses, where I come from. We take on our Aspects and walk amongst the people and wield our Attributes according to our nature and the grand scheme. I am Urania and Pandemos, the love of mind, soul and body." "Oh neat," Tear chimed, violet eyes glittering with unconfined enchantment. "So you have like worshippers and stuff? Can you do magic too? And turn nasty people into pigs like Circe? She's my favorite. Cause she's a witch. Very misunderstood. And that nasty Odysseus tricked her. So can you?" Cly's smile was immediate. "Such a bright, inquisitive girl," she said, reaching out to touch Tear's chin and raise her head slightly. She went back to kneading Tanstaafl's ears, from head to tips. "And such an uncomfortable subject. I prefer to remember that they stayed together for a year, and he sired three sons upon Circe on her flawless bed of love." Tear frowned slightly, despite the initial compliment. She stared up at Cly, not moving her chin from the woman's hands. A flush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks, "Sorry. Didn't mean to ask something uncomfortable. Auntie E'lbram says I'm almost too inquisitive sometimes. Oh!" She quickly pulled away and gestured to the lovely, green-skinned woman standing politely behind them. "This is my auntie E'lbram. Auntie E'lbram, this is Princess Clytemnestra. She's a goddess. And came to see me. Weird, huh?" Cly smiled slightly, again, in greeting. E'lbram stepped forward and curtsied politely; revealing her old servant-noble reverence in her fluidity and poise. "Princess Clytmnestra, it is a definite honor to make your acquaintance." She cast a look at Tear and smiled. "It isn't unduly weird, Minnow. You are royalty and a very special, little girl." Tear wrinkled her nose and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess." She turned back to Cly and gazed up at her. "Will there be other goddesses coming to see me too?" "You could say that," Clytemnestra said. "Remind me to tell you the tale of my home, someday. It's a complicated thing." Her head tilted. "Minnow?" "Auntie E'lbram's nickname for me cause she's Rebman," Tear smiled proudly. "But really, most people call me Tear. You can too, Princess. You're my friend now, so that's okay." Almost mid-sentence, the little girl trapped her tongue between her teeth and tugged on her ear. Her violet eyes looked through Cly, as if seeing something beyond her. A moment later her eyes refocused and she cocked her head. "If you're a goddess, then doesn't your Resonance filter through Shadow and create other goddesses of similar theological paradigms? Or are you actually the Reflection of one true source from which your Aspect is derived?" She put her hands behind her and smiled attentively. "That is what I meant when I said it was a complicated thing," Cly said. "I believe the answer would be, 'both'. You could call me an avatar of Love, for I take the Aspect upon myself. But there are also reflections throughout Shadow." Tear grinned, "Neat. It'd be really interesting to have your Reflection in the same room and see all the differences between them. It has to be possible, don't you think? It'd make for a neat study. Think you'd get along with them? Even the evil versions of yourself? Cause there'd have to be an antithesis to you as well. But would that be someone else entirely? Hrm." She fumbled and searched through her pockets and removed a pad of paper and graphite pencil. She sat down on the floor, and began hastily scribbling a series of notes and radically complex equations. E'lbram gave an apologetic smile to Cly, as if this was so commonplace that was simply accepted now. Tear eventually looked up and tapped her chin with the pencil thoughtfully. "Do you think because I can see the Logrus that I create Reflections now?" "I don't know," Cly said. "It's not an area I've really tried to study..." She looked at Tear. "Do others from the Courts cast reflections?" Tear looked up, gnawing on the end of her pencil. With her free hand, she tugged on her ear, thinking on this question. "I'd think so," she said. "But not like Amber does." She stood up and showed her notes to Cly proudly. Tear appeared to be trying to express the concept of interconnectivity between the 'Source' and its 'Manifestations' through magical formulas. They were both complex and eloquent, showing how the Logrus might form a tapestry of threads, each ending in what appeared to be, by Amberite science, a Reflection. "I think the Pattern was like a big onion," she said, "You know with layers and stuff. Or a tree with rings. Each layer is different, but because it's connected to the same thing it shares many of the same qualities as its progenitor. "But the Logrus reaches out to affect the world through very defined strands or threads. So, maybe it creates Manifestations of itself rather than Reflections." She hugged Cly's legs and grinned brightly up at her. "Thank you, Princess Clytemnestra. I love it people give me things to think about." E'lbram coughed lightly, "Tear, my little minnow. You might want to think on this /after/ your meeting with the nobles? We wouldn't want to be rude, now would we?" Tear looked at the book, then her Aunt. Book. Aunt. And finally she grumped. "Okay," she said, putting the book and pencil back in her pocket. Cly looked up at E'lbram. "Yes... the meeting. Did they say who, or when you would meet? I have an idea, but shall have to ask around. In the meantime, I can arrange for your comfort." Her smile was radiant. E'lbram smiled softly, lowering her eyes in deference. "My apologies, M'lady," she said. "All we were told is that Prime Minister Mandor sought Baroness Helgram's presence. Beyond that, we were unaware of who we were to meet." Tear nodded, "Uh-huh. They had these big bug soldiers come to get me. They were sort of pretty in a scary way. But they didn't seem to know why the Prime Minister wanted me here. So if you can ask, I'd be very grateful Princess." Tanstaafl, however, understood the word 'comfort' very well. He nudged Cly's wrist with his cold, wet nose. "Foods! Foods now." Cly smiled, and glided over to one corner of the conservatory, where she found a half-hidden bell pull and did the obvious. "I'd say the why is because you're special, Tear," she said. "A rare gift, under our very nose. And in a way, you and I are alike. But -who-... all the people who would want to meet you, that I do not know." The door opened and a tall, willowy man stood there, his long limbs far in excess of what an unaugmented human might have. "If you will follow me," he said majestically. Through the door, the light appeared to be quite dim. As they came up to the servant, he pointed. "You go in through here," he said to Tear. And then, as though he had decided to be helpful, "Walk straight down to the end. You'll see him there. Just make your bow and wait." As she went through the door, she seemed to be on the edge of a forest, with broad paths between the trees. But there was no undergrowth, and there was no sense of being outside - the air was as calm and tranquil as it was in the conservatory she had left. There were lights in the forest too - not the flickering lights of night wisps, but steadily torches and candles that burned, it seemed, careless of any sudden breezes that might blow. Then, as she brushed close to the nearest tree, she saw that it was made of burnished silver, and cunningly etched to resemble the bark of a tree. Once you realised - yes, it became obvious. The leaves were motionless, not just because there was no breeze to disturb them, but because they too were metal, silver perhaps, but gilded with green enamels in many shades. The one next to it was gold, and carved to resemble a great oak with wide spreading branches. So she went on with her companions through the forest of precious trees - aspen, lime, blanjan, cobbett and silver first - each moulded, carved and gilded to resemble its different species. Some were hung with jeweled fruit, some with small globes of light that gave a dim radiance to the surrounding area, while others were simply enameled. Here and there, in supposed clearings, she found seats arranged - precious metals again, but now made to resemble carved rustic benches. Great mirrors were set occasionally on the floor in these clearings to serve as representations of still pools, reflecting back the motionless trees. Tear walked as if in a dream; perhaps she was, after all. The little girl's eyes glittered with wonderment, her mouth hanging open. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to begin exploring this room. There were simply too many sights for her to take in as she walked along her assigned path. She would turn around and half-stumble now and again, drunk on the majesty of this place. However, she'd been instructed to go all the way to the end, and she was not about to disobey the order. Clytemnestra adopted an expression of amusement; she looked as if she were watching Tear closely, entertained by her reactions to the setting. Cly reached out and let her hand brush against the leaves of a silvery ash; it tinkled faintly, like bells in a breeze. Tanstaafl wasn't entirely impressed. There was a distinct lack of food items available. A room without something to eat in it just wasn't that impressive to him. So, he concentrated his attentions on Cly; or rather, he endeavor to inspire her to pay attention to him. As they approached the end, Tear glanced back once at Cly and her aunt; fear starting to build in her heart. And then, finally, she was there. It was too late to turn back. Tanstaafl wasn't disappointed; Cly spoiled him, scratching his chin and back and belly with long-nailed fingers, always with the impression that she was somehow holding back her emotions. Tanstaafl curled and squirmed in her hands unashamedly, letting out a low rumbling noise like a steam engine. "Joy," he muttered, gazing up at her with big eyes of pure adoration. "There is a place like this in the Courts," she said. "In House Sawall, though much more involved. Father told me..." she broke off, frowned a little, then said, "I always thought that it lacked something important. Some of the palladia ought to be moved in from the outer gardens." If it was loud enough for those at the end to hear, she didn't seem to care overmuch. Tear turned around, smiling with bright curiosity. "You were in the Courts? My mama came from there, but I've never been. Uncle Gloomy can't take me. Too dangerous he says. But I think it's because he doesn't know how. Is it really as beautiful as this there? The painting I have is nothing like this." She stopped in the middle of the path, her destination temporarily forgotten. Cly shook her head quickly. "I haven't been... I've just been... told about what is there. By my father." "Oh," Tear said, nodding. She tugged her ear anxiously, caught between curiosity and duty. "Maybe you can tell more later on. Please?" Duty now won out and she continued down the path to her destination. With each step, her trepidation and excitement deepened. She felt heavier, as if the weight of the air had begun to press down on her. But she pushed forward despite her nerves. She wanted to see what all the fuss was about and would not be denied the answer. There was a logic to this forest, she soon realised. They had entered by a side entrance and were following a somewhat twisting path. But there was a broad central avenue, to which their path gradually led them. A couple of times they were presented with forks, the ability to make choices. At last they found themselves in one of the small clearings which offered only two choices of exit - to retreat the way they had come, or to take a short path that would bring them on to the avenue. Five horsemen could ride comfortably abreast here - although, of course, it was unlikely that horsemen would gallop through this inner forest. Behind them, the avenue stretched for some two hundred yards ... ahead perhaps another twenty. At the head was the greatest and most impressive tree of all - a great golden beech. Here even the leaves were plain gold, and the branches spread out to create what looked a little like a shaded tent. Within this was a magnificent golden throne, carved to resemble wood again, with silken cushions of rich green. But the throne was unoccupied. Instead, there was a quite ordinary wooden table in front of the beech tree, and sitting at it, on an ordinary wooden chair, a single man with white hair and a thin, young face beneath it. He seemed to be engaged in studying a map of some kind. Cly held Tear back a moment, gauging the best time where Mandor would be least disrupted by an announcement; then she said, "Father, I have brought a guest." Her voice, lovely as it was, sounded neutral. Tear stiffened at the touch, caught unawares by Cly. She'd been so focused on the man behind the table. He…radiated. She couldn't explain it in words, but something about him stirred memories she didn't even know she had. The little girl could hear her heart pounding in her ears; a deafening roar of anxiety and adrenaline. Something about him fascinated her so deeply and she vowed to discover what that happened to be. She smiled faintly, waiting to be noticed by Cly's father. That though in of itself made her marvel over him even more. If the Princess was a goddess, did that make him a god? He looked up - and one was struck at once by the beauty of his face – and also by his strange, parti-coloured eyes. Then he reached down to the table and lifted something up, holding it in his hand. As they came closer they could see it was a small silver ball. "Welcome, little Solitaire," he said softly. The ball in his out-stretched palm started to spin. Tear blinked in wonderment. Before she could control herself, she was dashing over to the edge of the table, violet eyes wide as she watched the spinning ball. "Hi," she said distractedly. She cocked her head in different directions in an attempt to see this strange phenomenon. It was imperative that she figured out how he'd managed to make it move like that. Tanstaafl also noticed the ball and began to squirm in Cly's arms so he could see it better. "Shiny!" E'lbram, recognizing the Prime Minister of Amber, remained in the background; unsure if she should even enter the room, let alone speak. The Prime Minister smiled at Tear - his whole gaze focused upon her (and ignoring E'lbram and, indeed, Tanstaafl and Clytemnestra). Suddenly he made a little tossing gesturing, throwing the ball up into the air where it exploded into a clod of pure white butterflies. Tear let out a delighted laugh, clapping in appreciation. She began to dance around beneath the cloud, completely lost in the magical moment. When a few of the butterflies settled on her, she became very still and careful. She examined them up close, letting out sporadic giggles. One alit upon the back of her left hand; its snow-colored wings flexing in a relax fashion. It showed no sign of distress as the little girl began to pet its thorax with a tiny finger. She looked up at Mandor, smiling brightly. "Can you teach me how to do that, Mr. Prime Minister Sir?" Cly smiled, watching, but the smile faded quickly and she looked away. "You may call me Mandor," said Mandor. "Almost everyone does - unless they are cursing me." The last was said with an ironic twist - and a glance at Clytemnestra. "And I can certainly teach you how to make butterflies," he added. He lift one hand - and the butterflies rose into the air, a dazzling flying display that culminated in their flying closer together in an intricate pattern that shimmered and then the silver ball was dropping into Mandor's hand. But the one butterfly remained on Tear's hands, its wings quivering a moment longer ... And then there was a small ball of silver resting there, no larger than an ear-ring stud. Tear let out another cry of delight. With a testing finger, she rolled the tiny ball around in her left palm. Her nose scrunched up as she began to concentrate on the silver wonder. "The sorcery is some kind of trans-mog-rif-ication, right?" she recognized instinctively. "You rewove the ball's core structure. Because it isn't really a butterfly." Her tongue poked out at the corner of her mouth. "It's not even a silver ball normally, is it?" "Only in certain somewhat limited senses," agreed Mandor. She grinned proudly, "I'm studying alchemy right now. To help my uncle make stronger metals for his clocks. But I've never read nothing much on transforming metal to flesh. It's rather clever, Mr. Mandor, sir." Clytemnestra looked amused, wondering if Tear was going to drop and start writing formulae right then and there. "It seems you have a devoted fan, Father," she said. He smiled coldly. "If one fails to find appreciation within one's family, my daughter, one is forced to look elsewhere. Cly's lips pressed into a thin line. "Indeed," she said. "Tell me, Baronness, would you like to learn more of these skills and arts?" Tear, entranced by the silver balls and its properties, did not notice the interchange between Mandor and his daughter for what it was. When the offer came, her face lit up with excitement. "Me?! Yes, sir. I'd like that very much. Very much, indeed, Mister Mandor, sir. And can you teach me to turn people into pigs like Circe or make lightning and stuff? Will I be a real sorceress?" She came around the table and hugged his arm, unashamed of the show of affection. Tear held onto him for a moment and then leaned back as another stray thought came into her head. "You called me, Baroness. Does that mean you knew my mama?" "Yes," said Mandor - and for the first time his tone was clipped. "I knew her." Then he smiled again, "And please, young lady, my name is Mandor. You need not dress it up with Sirs and Misters or other titles. Whatever others choose to do." Again there was a glance at Clytemnestra. "As for the pigs, there are probably quite enough in Amber ... we need more butterflies, don't you think?" Taking advantage of the conversation, Cly stepped back a pace, listening. [Continued in Tear comes to Court: Cly meets Vikund ] "Heh. Yeah, I suppose so, Mandor-sir," Tear said, agreeing with the intriguing man. She rested her hand on his, staring at the silver ball he held. A desperation filled her round, little face; the need to make notes eating away at her child's resolve. She gave her ear a light tug to regain her focus and glanced up at Mandor reverently. "So is all this fuss about my dream?" she asked nervously. Mandor smiled, and indicated a seat at the table - before taking another one himself. "Tell me all about your dream," he suggested. "And I will tell you what I think it means." As directed, Tear climbed into the chair after a small struggle, considering her petit stature. She flattened out her dress and gazed up at Mandor with her big, violet eyes. "All of it?" she said. Not really waiting for an answer, she began to explain her ordeal with growing excitement. "Well, several weeks back I got this feeling in the back of my head. Like an itch. Something scratching and squirming in my head. But the more I thought about it, the worse the noise and itching got. Does that make sense? But when I really thought about it, I could see and hear this big squishy ball of snakes. All shadows and fire and stuff. They were woven into some big knot at the back of my head. They got more restless and noisy, day by day. And then blammo!" She clapped her hands loudly. "I knew if I untied the snakes, they'd stop making so much noise in my head." Her tiny hands started dancing in a complex series of movements in front of her. "So, I stayed up for days, watching them squirm and stuff. And soon, I could see they moved in certain ways. Familiar ways. I don't know why, Mr. Mandor-sir, but it was like I'd seen them before somewhere. I don't know where though. Not even now. But the more I watched, the tireder and tireder I got. And then one night, I fell asleep. That's when I really scared my Uncle Gloomy, 'cause I was asleep for a couple of days, he said." Tear hopped down from her chair and began pantomiming her dream; her nose wrinkled up with concentration. "There I was. In the black nothingness with the snakes. And they were MEAN! You could tell they were mad and liked being in their knot. And no little girl was going to untie them, no sir, Mister Mandor-sir. And they tried to bite me and spit at me." She hisses and makes evil-nasty snakes with her little hands. "But I knew better. I could see they were just scared. So I began to talk to them. They were like all, 'I'm not going to talk to you, little girl,' but soon, I think they recognized my voice. Like they knew me or something. And then they calmed right down." She began to walk in a haphazard fashion over the floor, sticking her arms out like she was balancing on a thin beam. "I climbed on their back and began walking. And when I did that, the snakes behind me began to unwind~E but the snakes in front of me got more tied up and twisted. But step. By step. By step. I walked along their backs until POOF!" Tear suddenly jumped in the air, landing with arms and legs thrust out wide for emphasis. "I woke up." She brushed herself off, proud and triumphant. "And then I could see stuff differently from then on. The snakes still live in my head now, but they're more quiet. I don't know why they got all mad and stuff in the first place though. I think they've been there for a very long time, Mister Mandor." Tear returned to her chair; story at an end. Now it was his turn to make sense of it all. From the determined expression on her face, she would have her answers. "I think they have too," agreed Mandor. "Although most people see them as one great snake. But you've been very lucky, Solitaire. You've seen the Serpent of Chaos in its many aspects. And that bodes well for your potential. Tell me, do you mind your lessons?" "Sir?" Tear said, slightly confused. "Do you mean my lessons at the school? Well, yes, sir. I love reading about languages and history and stuff." Pleased that he is pleased in her, she leans forward, winking conspiratorially. "But I don't the teachers know that much, Mister Mandor. I keep catching them in mistakes. But don't tell them. They'd be sad, I think." She straightened her dress again. "Mostly I teach myself, sir. Uncle Gloomy lets me read lots of mama's books. And he's taught me how to make clocks and music boxes. But~E" Tear looked up at him, her purple eyes wet with embarrassment. "I can't concentrate well since the dream, sir. It's why I write in my book all the time. Helps get the thoughts out." Timidly, she removed her notebook from its hiding place in her dress and handed it to him. "I think it's the snakes talking. The Serpent of Chaos, you called it?" "Yes," said Mandor. "And I suspect ... the snakes have been talking a long time. The dream has taught you how to listen." He gestured to the table. "Come - look at this. Do you see all the pretty stones? How many are there?" Tear glanced over at the table, her nose wrinkling with interest. Her current sitting position didn't allow her to see the entire table. Boldly, she climbed up in her chair for a better view. It was, indeed, a rather beautiful table; a landscape of finely polished stones, interlaced with crystals. It created an illusion of swirling and ever-changing coloration depending on which angle the observer viewed it from. Tear tugged her ear and concentrated, gazing out across the table. Her tongue poked out from the side of her mouth until finally she announced, "25,490." This regrettably was incorrect. There were 28,800 stones in total. However, she quickly added, "And 3,310 ugly ones. Sir." Mandor smiled. "I shall believe you. However, I was not referring to the crystals and shards used in the construction of the table. I was referring to the fifteen crystals arranged on the top. Do you see them? And each a different colour, and texture. They are, however, all roughly the same weight. "Now, what I want you to do is to select one - any one of them, and to fix it in your mind. Can you do that?" "Oh!" Tear said, blushing profusely. "I'm sorry, Mister Mandor-sir. I thought~E" She let out an ashamed whimper and tugged her ear harshly. She looked away, her little shoulders slouching. This was not going as well as she had thought. "I'm sorry. I'll do better." Eager to appease her new mentor, Tear picked out the burgundy crystal with odd striations. Her violet eyes glowed slightly as she stared at it, concentrating with all her might. Her tiny body shivered with the effort as she focused every ounce of her attention upon the crystal. "Good," said Mandor. "Now ... I want you to focus on cradling it - as though reaching out your hands to cup it. But with your mind - not with your hands." He was watching her closing as though fascinated. Tear put her hands behind her back to fight the urge to use them. She pictured her fingers slipping around the crystal, feeling its warm, smooth surface beneath her skin. In her mind, her hands gingerly embraced the object and brought it up to her chest. Once there, she cradled it as she would a doll; smiling to herself at how tingly the thoughts made her. "'Kay," she said. She could hear the smile in his voice. "A good inch and a half. Take a proper look." "Now," he went on, "instead of cupping yours hands around it ... use the serpent." The little girl nodded, reaching into the back of her mind. Tear found the Serpent curled up there, resting amongst in the warm shadows of her thoughts. She gently coaxed it to wakefulness and guided it toward the crystal. It took very little effort to instruct it to wrap around the crystal, entwining the smooth object in scales. "Tickles," she giggled, 'feeling' the snake skin brush her fingertips. Maintaining the image in her mind's eye, Tear opened her true eyes curiously. The crystal was floating on a level with her eyes. Tear let out a delighted squeal, which broken the mental contact. The crystal plopped into her fingers and she held onto it tightly. "I did it! I did it!" she cried. "Auntie! Princess! Did you see?!" Even the fuzz-ball blinked in surprise. She spun around on the chair, dancing happily. "Heh heh. I did it! Oh, Mister Mandor-sir, that was wonderful. Can I do it again?" "As many times as you like," said Mandor. "But I'd like you to try with the other crystals - the ones resting on the surface of the table, for the moment, and not the ones embedded in the design. The latter would need a more advanced technique. For the moment, I want you to experiment with the different sensations of the different crystals. You'll find that not all of them respond so easily to manipulation. And, over time, you'll learn that because of this, they can all be used to serve different purposes." Tear tugged on her ear nervously and glanced over at the remaining crystals. As excited as she happened to be, the task set before her appeared monumental. She nodded and straightened her back. "'Kay," she said, rubbing her hands together in preparation. Over the next thirty minutes, the little girl performed admirably in her undertaking. She manipulated each crystal in turn; giggling happily or wrinkling her nose depending on the sensations she sensed with each contact. Although she had little difficulty with most of the crystals, the cyan stone continued to vex her. She let out a little grump noise with each failure; pounding her fist into her hip with aggravation. Just when she appeared ready to quit out of frustration, Tear cocked her head. "Wait. If red and green create that impulse wavelength… then… blue and green should produce… Stupid!" She tugged her ear harshly and began to concentrate again. Sure enough, the cyan crystal began to move and twist according to her will. When she finally let it settle back on the table, Tear slumped down into her chair and raised her knees up to her chin. "I should have known that," she said mirthlessly. "Yes," said Mandor, "you should. Or at least you should have worked it out much faster. But we must make allowances for your being tired. Very well - you will have a regular morning class with me here at the palace, every day, from six until eight. After that, I will arrange masters of the arts to instruct you as I shall see fit." Tear nodded glumly at first, unconvinced that exhaustion had anything to do with her failure. However, this disappointment was soon forgotten with the announcement of further training. And regular schooling, no less! She perked up immediately, "Classes? With you? Really? For true?" She hopped down off her chair and rushed over to Mandor, wrapping her short arms around his legs. "Oh thank you! Thank you. I promise I'll learn faster next time." She stepped back and gazed up at him reverently. "What other classes will I be taking, Master Mandor-sir?" "That remains to be decided," said Mandor. "I will give you a list – a timetable even - when you return here - at six o'clock tomorrow. Promptly." It seemed that her interview with the Prime Minister was at an end. Tear watched him for a moment and recognized the dismissal for what it was. She picked up Tanstaafl and returned to her aunt’s side. She bide a fond farewell to the Princess, involving plenty of hugs and plenty of chatting; on Tear’s part anyway. The rest of the evening consisted of Tear running around excitedly, talking in a flurry that drained her poor aunt and uncle to their last wit. Finally, they put her to bed, reminding her of how early her classes would be. Tear found it difficult to sleep that night. The snakes were restless in her head, whispering to her in a cacophony of voices. After a brief ‘discussion,’ she was able to calm them down and soon their endless whispers became a lullaby. For once, the nightmares didn’t come. And for that alone, the little girl was happy. -EOT-
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