FicWad

Chapter 5 – The Two ‘J’s

Morning broke like a cracked egg, the golden yolk of the sun leaking its way through the edges of the painted wooden shutters covering the small glassless window of the tower bedroom Sarah’s somnolent form was currently occupying. She remained blissfully unaware of the fact for many hours, and when she gradually came around it was to the smell of breakfast: a metal-covered tray had obviously been brought in while she was asleep, the servant ordered not to disturb her. Were it not for the food, Sarah would’ve been sorely tempted to just stay right where she was until she was dragged away it was so cozy and comfy, but her stomach won out in the end and she peeled out of the blankets, shuffling across the woolen rugs to the small wooden table and chair by the smoldering grate. Her appointed repast was generous (and nominally still warm, even though the coffee had gone cold): eggs scrambled with fried potatoes, sausage links, a thick toasted slice of buttered bread and apple-butter on the side that was so richly spiced she smelled it the moment the cover was removed. Quickly tucking in, she thought of little else until her hunger was satisfied, most of the plate cleared. Sipping her cooled coffee – which she sugared generously – she got up and went over to the small window, unlatching it to look out.

The view which had steadily eluded her on the ascent the previous night was finally visible from this eagle’s perch in the castle: Jidrash – mighty fortified city of shadow – was spread out below her, only part of the second tier of activity and late-morning bustle slightly occluded by the top edge of the third ivied barrier wall. The place was busy as a beehive, the sounds of the market echoing up the stone buildings: vendors hawking their wares, people shouting, arguing, laughing, even a few animal noises; a donkey brayed. A stiff gust of ozone suddenly blew in from somewhere; must’ve been behind, where she couldn’t see. There were scattered clouds overhead as far as that distant mountain range she had passed over just yesterday; the greenery in the valley did look moist. Within moments, fat raindrops commenced falling at a slant out of a seemingly sunny sky, and she closed the shutters against them, availing herself of the ‘facilities’, such as they were. Hopefully the storm would blow through by the time they had to leave…

For Amber. Sarah should’ve felt relief at the thought, yet trepidation harried her nerves, her memory. Even with a trained sorceror of sorts at her side to protect her if need be along the journey, it still made her rather uneasy to be knowingly waltzing straight into the face of open danger like this. And possible personal retribution, the mysterious Lady being the least of her current worries. Rinaldo Barimen – ‘Luke’ in another life, apparently – might’ve been good at pushing ideas, making the implausible sound attractively rational, but the law was the law in Amber, especially where the Concord was concerned. She couldn’t exactly imagine Random saying, ‘oh well, these things happen,’ patting her on the head and letting her go; a more realistic best-case scenario might be that nobody got killed or imprisoned. She didn’t even want to think about the possibilities – for either of them – in the worst-case.

And the thought of having to personally face Prince Julian again under any circumstances was downright scary no matter which way she sliced it; no sympathy whatsoever would be forthcoming from that particular quarter.

Sarilda…

Yep – the whole situation was definitely a mess. Her only consolation was that they were going to clean it up one way or another, and if she lived she’d get to go home and get herself back together. It was strange, but she was almost becoming mentally adjusted to her metaphysically separated half-existence. Could she be killed anymore if no one could reach her soul, she suddenly wondered out-of-the-blue? She would’ve never undertaken this separation willingly, yet she had to concede that there very well might be bizarre applications for such a peculiar state-of-being. Perhaps she could ask the king about it; he seemed rather knowledgeable himself when it came to the occult.

There was no timepiece of any kind in her room, only the outdoor light to guesstimate by; that brought back memories, too. She finished off her mug, getting that little syrupy sugar-shot at the end, feeling a bit jittery and not just from the caffeine.

There were no books in the room, nothing provided to pass the time, either – aside of the tome she was still toting about in her carryall; Sarah retrieved the geography book and reopened the shutters (the rain had passed quickly, must’ve just been the cloud they were under) before settling back down on the soft bed with it, flipping to the table of contents. Really, she should return this book also when she got to Amber – she had no right to claim such a rich resource as solely her own – but she’d be damned if she didn’t get as much goody out of it as humanly possible before that moment arrived! Out of sheer curiosity about what it would say, she turned to the pages on Shadow Earth…

She was in the middle of reading up on Sarilda’s desert outpost of Heerat when she was interrupted by a rather timid knock on the door.

“Come in!” she called, bookmarking the page with the ribbon attached to the binding as a laden serving girl entered, looking to be a little younger than herself, carrying a heated pitcher of water and a cake of soap in her hands, with a thick, large towel draped over her right arm, fresh travel garments draped over her left. Sarah insisted that she was perfectly capable of washing up by herself as the girl poured half the water into a porcelain basin on a metal stand by the far wall, but she did take the servant up on the offer of having her current clothing washed downstairs, quickly stripping with the girl’s eyes averted, handing her the bundle with her honest thanks on her way back out of the room.

The ‘sponge bath’ – such as it was – was lightning fast due to the chill in the room alone; she got dressed in the new long, warm, forest green-dyed merino wool dress before even attempting to wash her hair, she had been shivering so badly! At least it felt good to be clean again, and not to smell of horse for what would likely be all of another hour or so; the bedding she’d slept in was definitely noticeable to her nose now. Her own clothing was returned to her in due course, along with lunch: a cut of marinated mutton, more root vegetables and bread, and a glass of red wine. She asked for drinking water also, if it could be had without too much trouble (remembering the king’s warning about the limited water supply the previous night, not even sure how easily it was made potable,) but the request was met with demure nonchalance, and quickly fulfilled.

By early afternoon Sarah had grown positively anxious, pacing the small room, all her things carefully packed and her canteen refilled already, when the king finally put in an appearance, rapping on the door twice before entering almost immediately, the knock obviously just a formality.

“Sorry about keeping you in suspense like that,” he remarked upon seeing her harried state, shutting the door behind him. “Not to be coarse about it, but sometimes it seems like I can’t do anything in this job without committee approval specifying when, where, and how,” he gave a rueful little smile. He was dressed in a splendid grass-green velvet jacket with lots of golden accents, a gold phoenix clasping his matching high-collared cape at the throat, with dun breeches and high cavalier leather boots beneath. “Heavy is the head, and all that jazz. You seem ready to go – did you get a decent night’s sleep?”

“Yes, thank you; this was really comfortable. And breakfast and lunch were nice, too.”

“So is breathing,” he answered with an odd note of sarcasm. “I’m not about to let you starve now that you’re under my protection, but you’re welcome anyway. Well,” he seated himself in the small chair; Sarah perched on the edge of the made bed, “it’s sort of a good news/bad news situation like we suspected, at least in getting to Amber. My wife, Queen Nayda of Begma, is… a rather talented psychic, shall we say,” he slyly yet proudly confided. “She sees danger ahead of us if we follow the more normal shadow routes into the True City, or even the back way behind Kolvir from the north: somebody’s watching them – there’s a magickal surveillance system in place that’s clearly of Chaosian origin, the spells installed fairly recently, so I know its not even anything of my cousin Merlin’s doing for Random; he has done some ‘homeland security’ work for him in the past as part of an addendum to their Concord. However, the good news here would seem to be that we can confirm that your adversary is not omnipotent, omniscient, nor omnipresent,” he smirked. “You don’t have to worry about pissing off a goddess, even a minor one. And we should be able to make the run so long as we use more circuitous shadow paths interspersed with a number of switchbacks, alerting Random when we’re getting close so he can send an appropriately outfitted and warned party to escort us the rest of the way via the King’s Hellride Highway – an unmarked passage straight into Castle Amber’s back courtyard. Anyway, my wife postulates this to be the safest of our alternatives under the current circumstances, and I quite agree with her. This does mean that the journey’s going to take a few days longer, though, but I mean to do this right, and if that entails taking a little extra time, then so be it. I know this isn’t as fast as you were hoping, but I think this really is the best we can do.”

Sarah shrugged. “Whatever needs to happen here; I’m not about to argue if it’s a matter of physical safety!” she nervously laughed. “Does that mean we’re leaving soon?”

“Just as soon as we retrieve the Stone. Here,” he unwrapped a long, hooded black-velvet cloak she hadn’t seen he was carrying when he came in, passing it to her, “this is on loan from her majesty. Keep the hood down until we’re out in Shadow where no one would recognize us anyway. It carries a rather light spell to dispel curious eyes that might glance your way in the meantime, and another that would only affect one of full-Chaos blood, to protect you should it come to that – she won’t even tell me what that one is! Accidental sympathetic magick can be tricksy that way.”

“…wait a minute, the Lady said no powers can be used on the person carrying the Dreamstone without adversely affecting the artifact!”

“Then it’s a very good thing that you’re not carrying it,” he answered amusedly. “Granted, we still don’t know just how much of what she told you was bullshit, but I’m not about to risk something like that myself without more concrete information. I plan to carry the Stone myself – I can physically, so long as it remains wrapped the way it is right now. It would be best for it not to be on your person, anyway; too long of an exposure to the Jewel of Judgment even just casually can prove fatal; it starts eating into your life-force. I’ve no way of knowing how the Dreamstone compares on that point, but if it’s going to parasitically draw on someone, I have a much stronger stamina; training for power-work is only good for so much. And it won’t even be out of reach during the ride: you’re traveling coach and I’ll be in there with you – at least in body – for most of the duration. Shall we?”

They stood, and Sarah shouldered her bag, then donned the occult-ceremony-grade cloak over everything, pulling the hood down as far as it would go, all the way to her chin. Taking his majesty’s arm, she allowed him to lead her out of the room and carefully back down the ponderously long staircase (which seemed markedly longer in the man’s silence.) There were a few notes of subservient greeting directed toward him in the halls, but either his staff and retinue were remarkably unquestioning of their monarch, or the queen’s cape was working to the extent that Sarah was like a ghost to them – she simply didn’t exist! Down and around they went, down to the treasury once more. Sarah retrieved the Stone and carefully knotted the sack tightly closed before handing the parcel over to the king for him to secrete on his person – in his jacket somewhere, perhaps in a garment underneath (he had to unclasp a bit of clothing to reach it.) She was all but blind as he led her up, out, away to the royal stables in the back of the compound, helping her into the carriage before entering himself, sitting across from her as the side door was closed from the outside.

“Stay down and back,” he quietly warned her, “it’ll look too strange if I draw the blinds on the way out of the City; people like to wave.”

What she took to be the royal cavalcade escort audibly trotted out both ahead and behind them as the coach began to roll backward… for her. At least this ride was going to be nominally civilized and comfortable; the seats were decently cushioned, and there was plenty of room to spread out. The ensuing cheers and shouts from the streets as they traversed the city were patriotic, friendly, jovial even – something of a surprise to Sarah – as they twisted down the long winding cobblestone road to the main gates! She really was doing her best to be one with the golden-damasked upholstery; so far it seemed to be working. Off across the grassed plain they sped, after a time peeling off to the right, toward the towering aspen-covered mountains beyond Jidrash, quite literally the edge of her map! The first shift had to be coming up soon. They began to steadily climb, entering the divide.

“You go ahead and lower your hood, Sarah; you’ve got to be suffocating in there, and Jidrash is about to be a world away. But don’t talk to me for a while.”

Sarah gratefully shoved the thing back from her face… and saw – as she’d guessed from the movement – that she was seated in front, facing the rear bench. Rinaldo was resolutely staring out the left window, practically leaning out toward the mountain, his green eyes fixed ahead with a terrible level of will and concentration, doubtless altering the landscape ahead of them. It was certainly not the first time she had viewed blatant shadow-shifting like this, but it was the first time the act had appeared to be outwardly as difficult as it truly was!

Of course; he’s only half-Patterner, she suddenly thought. Traveling the ‘old-fashioned’ way like this was probably a strain for Merlin, too. Perhaps that had been part of his reasoning for…

She averted her gaze from the king’s peridot-hard irises, and more leisurely took in the view herself from the other window. If there was one thing to be said for this corner of Shadow, it was certainly scenic: they were currently traversing a rather verdant mountain range with unnaturally even roads, hemmed in all about suddenly by a variety of lush deciduous trees for the moment – which were literally accumulating moss as they went, the greenness spreading until it was joined by brilliant tiered fungi, some of which was glowing in the shadows with inner phosphorescence, the pungent smell overpowering. The moss gradually gave way to more complicated lichens (thankfully none with obvious eyeballs, studying them in turn) as the foliage began to thin somewhat, filling with more ground cover, closer, denser. Once creeping ivy had taken over, there were bushes for a while longer… and then a clean breakaway into moorlands; in the space of half-an-hour, there were no mountains at all!

“There,” the king sighed in satisfaction, sitting back down in his side of the bench. “We’re on the right track for a while now; I won’t have to do that again for at least another hour. We’ve got plenty of time. Was there anything you wanted to talk about? Even if it wasn’t for the spectre of potential tedium from such a long roadtrip, I imagine I still owe you for this since you turned down my previous offer of ongoing protection. Anything odd on your mind that’s been bothering you lately? I’ve been known to be a good listener when the occasion calls for it.”

“Now that you mention it,” Sarah began, commencing to confide in him about her peculiar personal predicament with her fetch running her life for her back on Shadow Earth. True to his word, the king listened to her with a dire seriousness overlaid with genuine enough concern for her well-being, yet he begged off on giving the matter answer right away, demurring to the effect that he knew someone far better to ask, and he would broach the topic as hypothetical speculation on her behalf, hopefully turning up something useful.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much if I were you in the meantime,” he did his best to reassure her. “If this was really going to hurt you I suspect it would’ve happened right up front when the separation occurred. Still, we’ll make sure and get you a backup rite for the rejoining just in case the Lady was lying about that being automatic, too – nothing too complex should be necessary for something that’s naturally a part of you anyway.”

Sarah quickly discovered that it was far too easy to talk to him in general: there was no feeling of weirdness, no pressure about anything – he seemed a very genial, relatively young, open-minded Earth-man! And, in consequence, she realized in a hurry that she had to be careful of just how much she was saying! Among other things, she unintentionally let slip that she had conversed with a Pattern-ghost of himself on one occasion; she hadn’t meant to, but it had just come right out, along with the sentiment of familiarity with him from a previous meeting the man was naturally completely unaware of! Of course this led to an odd cat-and-mouse sort of half-interrogation that Rinaldo managed to turn into a ridiculous guessing game to try to catch her off her guard so she would correct him without conscious premeditation… and it actually worked enough times that he was able to mostly piece the event together! As irritated as Sarah was initially about being so easy to play like this, Rinaldo’s real interest was hard to be mad about – especially the part with the Pattern-phantom of his dad. And the duel.

“Did Corwin…” he winced, having a hard time even finishing the sentence.

“No, he didn’t,” she answered in all honesty.

“Did Brand just dissolve then?”

Sarah nodded, looking down at her lap; it was technically true. He didn’t need to know this. She almost wished she didn’t.

The king exhaled, closing his eyes, leaning back his head. “He’d served his purpose, then, and the Pattern stopped supporting him.”

Silence was the only conscionable answer; his own non-communication concurred. For just a moment Sarah could detect that he had clenched his jaw…

“Man, how did we get talking about something so existentially morbid?!” Rinaldo suddenly forced himself to laugh, opening his eyes again. “There’s enough uncertainty in life without the Powers giving animation to the multiplicity of choices we don’t make! For what it’s worth, I’ve met that version of me, too; he’s a pretty nice guy,” he added with a glint in his eye that reminded Sarah far more of his father, the shuffle of genetics even in such a rare breed performing their eerily uncanny dance…

Conversely, the king of Kashfa proved far more adept at finding ways to neutrally evade most of Sarah’s own questions in turn, carefully yet gently steering their conversation the majority of the time; after a while of this, she had to reflect that his training as a businessman on Shadow Earth had likely rendered him an intimidating statesman politically. In fact, the only reason she had the leisure to reflect upon this at all was because after a short rest-stop Rinaldo had to resume the shifting process once again, leaving him mentally absent from the cabin temporarily. It would have been impossible to tell if they were making good time, for the road he was taking them on was of his own design, not registered on any of her maps – in fact, even their current topography wasn’t! The mountains that had returned to lushly surround them for most of the afternoon were gradually drying out, becoming semi-arid, as more hardy evergreens took the place of the deciduous trees save for a lone elm or two, the ground carpeted thickly now in sharply fragrant needles. And even these firs were thinning, the ground ever-so-slowly adopting the ruddy tinge of iron minerals, and something else…

In spite of the decent night’s rest she’d finally had, and the arresting, magically changing foreign scenery, the extended silence of her traveling companion coupled with the monotonous back-to-front rocking of the carriage (and likely sitting for so long) eventually made her drowsy, and she nodded off for a time…

When she was suddenly jolted awake from the vehicle abruptly running over something, she had no idea how long she’d been out. The sun was setting, though.

“Sorry to interrupt your nap,” the king immediately apologized, “but the road won’t be as even from here on out; I wasn’t traveling coach the last time I came this way and I forgot. It’s no problem for the horses, though – or even a man on foot, for that matter.”

“Do we need to leave the vehicle behind and just ride, then?” Sarah asked, feeling a twinge of uncertainty at the prospect of being on horseback once again.

“Not at all,” Rinaldo dismissively waved the idea off, “I just have to work a little harder on the trail ahead is all, up to the Pass.”

Sarah was somewhat reassured: at least this stark landscape was familiar to someone in the party! Upon gazing out a window, she could now see that even the firs were gone, replaced with occasional scrub oak and… were those small prickly pear cacti?! The bones of their mountain range were in plain view now along the slope-edge, occasionally showing their geologic histories like a card player tipping their hand, from exposed striations of sedimentary and metamorphic rock in the uplifted range, hinting at what was still buried thousands of feet below in the dark.

The road did admittedly become less bumpy as they rolled onward, but the shadow-world about them was changing very little at this point – perhaps a sign that they were drawing close to his chosen destination for the night, Sarah thought hopefully, stretching her legs again in the spacious cabin.

The sun was just beginning to set when they came upon ‘The Pass’… but it was not the type of pass that Sarah had been expecting: it was as tunnel that stretched through the bowels of the mountain! It curved off quickly, so it was impossible to even begin to guess its length. She fairly gaped at the sight as flints were struck and lit torches were passed hand-to-hand by their retinue outside.

“I sincerely hope you are not claustrophobic,” the king addressed her abruptly, accepting a small rushlight that was passed to him through one of the open windows, setting little flickering flames in the two tiny lamps that were bolted to the inside walls. “We can keep the blinds drawn, but there’ll be no hiding the mustiness. I could weave a mild spell over you to keep you calm, but I’d rather not unless you feel you just wouldn’t be able to handle it otherwise; those always leave people a bit suggestible, and I don’t know much about your psychological constitution.”

Sarah swallowed. “How far is it?”

“Oh, about two miles to reach the open cavern, and then maybe a bit over five longer. The whole thing’s ventilated for safety; nobody’s going to suffocate in here. Granted, that’s a pretty good distance for a casual-use tunnel, especially if you’re not used to the idea.”

Sarah thought about it for a minute, then gave a firm nod. “Can’t be worse than a New York subway,” she forced herself to laugh.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be alright,” she replied, a little more relaxed.

“Good, because I really should be leading the troops in,” he opened the door to the carriage, letting himself out with a flourish of his green cape, closing the door again. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

And he didn’t mention that on purpose, Sarah thought as she heard his boots pacing away, likely up to one of the horses; the coach rocked ever-so-slightly momentarily as another passenger climbed up on the driver’s seat. The girl switched seats herself, now that she was alone in here – finding Rinaldo’s still warm from his body heat – before the vehicle lurched forward again.

The light of the dying day was quickly left behind them as they plunged into the eternal night within the mountain; their path looked to be partly hewn by men, or at least by a man’s will: a cleanly blasted tunnel easily wide enough for at least five lanes of automobile traffic, even if the clearance was low. The stone road was relatively even and smooth by the motion of the carriage, yet their current speed seemed greatly curtailed by the twisting and turning of the passage ahead, hooves and wheels echoing loudly off the rock flooring.

Ventilation shafts or not, it was cold and dank down here; earlier in the trip, there had been moments that she had nearly rued how warmly she’d been dressed, but now she was rather grateful. Rough, gray rock walls tinged with streaks of golden-orange, flowing with cast shadows from the dim torchlight of the party, were the only view to be had for what felt like ages, the sounds of the cavalcade repeating endlessly up and down the hard corridor in both directions. Leaning out the right-hand window to try to see better, all that greeted her eyes was a blackness as deep and profound as the Abyss stretching out before them, with a similarly ominous curtain of darkness that kept closing up behind them as they went; one of the soldiers bringing up the rear seemed to mark her presence for a moment, then abruptly shook himself of it as if he had just being seeing things under the mentally oppressive conditions.

The queen’s cloak yet, she thought wonderingly, sitting back down.

Yet, the lack of stimuli here in the deeps of Shadow – what alien world currently lay above them she could only guess at – that very limitedness made any variance at all stand out starkly: the echo-time of their horses’ footfalls gradually beginning to lengthen… which had to mean that the tunnel was growing larger.

Her instincts were right on the money as the path suddenly commenced an easy rise, the light reflected from the walls growing successively dimmer as those very walls arched up and away from them into a monstrously huge natural ceiling, yet the place was not a cave with stalactites, all surfaces surprisingly smooth from what could be seen!

And the king was right: there was certainly fresh air in here, despite all appearances to the contrary – cold gusts of it, in fact! Sarah gaped: the torchlight was being reflected from little glassy mineral deposits as they meandered on into what felt like a great hall that had been made for giants; they were completely in the open now, the torchlight nigh ineffectual beyond seeing what was directly underfoot.

This has to be was Tolkien was thinking of, Sarah thought, barely able to discern the receding walls in the very far distance. All it needs is some old statuary and a crumbling throne room and the place could be Moria!

The party was working their way around piles of stone and mounds of unidentifiable non-organic debris which had fallen to the floor at some point in time, yet less than a quarter-of-a-mile later the way forward smoothed – like tile! She could hear the men remarking upon it in their distinctive dialect of Thari! Only a little later there were a few audible gasps and a few spontaneous self-blessings as the company ground to a halt; that did not sound good! A lone rider audibly galloped back, approaching the carriage: it was Rinaldo! He bent in the saddle to glare at Sarah through the window, smirking.

“Backseat driver,” he teasingly accused her in English. “Who’s leading this expedition, you or me?!”

“I – I’m sorry, I don’t understand-”

“Get out here and see for yourself,” he ordered, backing up a pace so that she could open the door.

Stiffly disembarking, and more than a little scared, Sarah uneasily set foot inside the cavern and looked in the direction in which the king now pointed… and nearly sank to her knees as her jaw dropped: it was too beautiful! Statues of heroic dwarves the size of small skyscrapers lined the upcoming hallway like structural columns, gilding still faintly shining in certain places upon them! Large, deeply-carved runic inscriptions covered the bases of the sculptures, and the floor-surface ahead was indeed polished to a shine, inlaid with semi-precious diamond-shaped slabs of rock tiling up to ten-by-ten feet! Flowing Sindarin script curled about the ceiling in an almost botanical-looking style, glowing radiantly down on them with its own blessed light!

“I take it you’re a Lord of the Rings fan,” the king remarked wryly, “and while I’ll admit the light show is pretty, this isn’t getting us any closer to our first camp for the night, and I’d appreciate your not conjuring up any orcs for us to do battle with. Were you just dying to see this so bad that you had to make it real or what?!”

“I… wasn’t trying,” Sarah faltered, severely embarrassed, “I was only daydreaming!”

“You must have an unbelievably strong imagination, then,” the king replied sternly. “You nearly steered us off-course. Why don’t you sit in the other seat so that your sense of forward motion isn’t so strong, and try to rest again or busy yourself with that geography book… if you can do it without thinking about where we are. If this happens again, I’ll have to sedate you!”

“It won’t! I promise!” she vigorously shook her head no, eyes wide.

“Alright then, get back in,” the king sighed, nodding.

As soon as Sarah was securely back inside the coach, the company started moving again – to the left, in a ninety-degree turn. She stared longingly at the shadow-remnants of the hall of the Khazad, ‘the People’ in Dwarvish.

Oh, for a camera…

She couldn’t be entirely certain, but for a moment she thought she saw a tiny pair of faintly luminous, rounded, baleful eyes peeking out from behind one of the dwarf-pillars on the right-hand side, almost familiar… but she would not name him: wrong treasure to covet, wrong ‘Precious’ – no.

The eyes blinked.

Sarah forced her gaze, her attention, back into the cabin with a start, finally pulling the blinds down and securing them: that whole incident had been far too close for comfort! Taking the king’s advice, she dug the geography tome back out, resting the old textbook in her lap. And suddenly wondered…

Rinaldo clearly had no intention of telling her ahead of time where they were going, possibly for security purposes, conceivably, on a number of levels. For all her training and background in the arcane arts from Chaos, she had never put much faith in bibliomancy; the manner of oracle wasn’t arbitrary enough to her way of thinking, always limited in scope to the single book one used. But to select a shadow from a list of shadow-places…

Sarah closed her eyes, intuited her desire, and opened the book at random to see where it would fall.

The answer genuinely surprised her: Denjak, a world doomed to icy sterility by a dying star too weak to supernova, yet too far away to engulf it in the fiery end of expansion. And the general weather now was akin to Shadow Earth’s Antarctic at its most balmy! Main attractions included snow, snow, and even more snow – water-based, through – with glaciers the size of sharp, steep mountains, forever trapping the previously tropical world and all the creatures that inhabited it below in a frozen coffin for all time, the layers of ice too thick for even scavenger-hunters. Who would ever go to such a place?! Why was it even listed in here? It was stupid! She merely skimmed the rest of the two-page spread (which was mostly comprised of thumbnail sketches; there was more scenery than anything else) before slamming it back shut again with a satisfying thump. Like she thought: worthless divination. She itched for the old Tarot deck that had gone with her small handful of trumps; at least that could’ve been a little more detailed and accurate!

Oh get a grip, it’s not the book’s fault, she thought irritatedly at herself, opening it again to the contents page, just flipping through for anything that caught her eye. The carriage was turning left again – no, right, she was backwards in here – but she did her best to ignore it, immersing herself in an account of Avalon that could’ve only come from Prince Corwin; she’d nearly forgotten that he’d told her (after a fashion) about his rule there, as one of the few places he had been truly happy in life...

Much later, a part of her brain registered that the tunnel was closing in again: the echoing sounds were changing the walls coming closer and closer in an easy descent… She finally raised the blinds and looked out the window when the smell of sulfur came: there was smooth, yellow-glazed rock that came almost to the edges of the carriage! There was barely enough room for the vehicle! The rest of the company was all going single-file now; it couldn’t get any narrower or they would become trapped! Regardless of the close quarters and the irritating compounds, fresh air was blowing in occasionally from somewhere up ahead: the exit! They were nearly there! Wherever ‘there’ was…

No increasing brightness met them – even here the sun had already set – but the evening wind was decidedly cold as they carefully emerged, one by one. Sarah looked up from her book… and her eyes grew wider and wider as the carriage crawled forward, making a sharp left-hand turn along the thin-cut mountain road: immense glaciers, lit up harshly by a setting waning moon! Flecks of snow blew by with the gusts!

Rinaldo can’t seriously expect us to-

Her reaction of disbelief was interrupted by a completely different vista: a real mountain range, tall, imposing, snow on some of the highest peaks! And then came the unexpected briny tang of an ocean…

It was too weird to not try for a better view! Sarah cautiously scooted over to the right window and peered out all the way down… She hadn’t seen any world this bizarre since her travails in the shadows near Chaos! From the base of the smoothed, denuded grey rocky pile across which they were riding, down to the strand of a stormy, choppy sea with breakers that would be a surfer’s dream-come-true, was an open lava field which stretched away for at least a mile, the liquid rock glowing and bubbling redly in the dusk in a long line, as if the continental plate in this place had shifted forward, exposing a hot-spot fissure! The internal structure that they had just passed through suddenly clicked together in her mind: this ‘range’ was in fact a long line of unusually tall, extinct shield volcanoes – they had just come out of one of the lava tubes!

But beyond all these natural-seeming wonders was the imposingly immense gothic-pastiche fortress that lay just beyond the area of active vulcanism, before the mountains, skirting frozen desert and watery wasteland…

This distinctive shadow-world had to be in the book! If only she could find it quickly! Rapidly picking her way back to Denjak, she saw that the end of the entry contained a small-print addendum-type footnote:

‘Keep of the Four Worlds encroaches upon the far northern border: exercise prudence.’

A quick check under the K-names turned up nothing, however, which felt eerily ominous: a landmark big enough to be noted, yet otherwise completely unknown to the scribes who had penned this volume! Which, realistically, could only mean two or three things, none of which included a warm welcome, let alone a warm dinner and a safe bed! But King Rinaldo seemed awfully sure of himself in coming here; Sarah could nearly believe that he knew the secret to this place when no one else in his family did. Such would certainly suit the man’s Barimen heritage down to the ground.

It took only minutes to reach the black, sandy coastline; once turned onto it, she heard a Thari cry of ‘Onward!’, and at once the whole party took it up, taking off at full-charge, galloping the last mile to their now-obvious destination! Salt spray and snow and sulfur – the scents all mingled strangely together in the high wind of the plain the Keep dominated! On the approach, Sarah realized that a little of the light she had spied from above was not smoldering rock, but smoldering earth – peat, if she wasn’t mistaken – the outline of a small peasant village becoming clearer as they drew closer! Rinaldo skirted the entire inhabited area, likely to keep from alarming the locals. What anyone could be living on out here Sarah couldn’t even begin to imagine, unless they were fisher-people, and even at that there were no vessels of any kind in sight. The Kashfan company was pulling straight alongside the turreted 200-foot-tall dark grey walls, with crenellated towers at the corners that soared even higher, riding boldly up to the barred portcullis as if none inside this massively imposing fortress would dare stand against them! The grating sounds of heavy chains being lifted greeted her ears as they sat there… and her breath caught as they proceeded freely through in stately fashion into the courtyard! There were sounds of dismounting from without and the door to the carriage opened…

Taking a deep breath, Sarah collected her things and drew the midnight hood up over her head, yet not over her face, before climbing down; it was an unknown, darkly liveried servant who silently greeted her with a swift bow as if she were a great lady, giving her first a hand down, then a hand with her bag. Looking about, she took in a veritable maze of interconnected buildings that skirted the barrier walls and their high walkways to the left and right, with asymmetrical flights of stairs and obvious tunneled hallways all over the place. She was suddenly struck with the bizarre feeling of being inside a hamster cage with a tube-village toy!

But the Keep was certainly no child’s play: ever since their approach, the feeling of latent power had been prickling along Sarah’s spine with an accompanying sense of incredible awe. Whatever was going on down here was worth protecting with both life and limb – at least somebody thought so from the number of soldiers sent ostensibly to ‘greet’ them (more likely to keep an eye on them), with even more watching intently from above on the parapets!

And this wasn’t even the inner sanctum! Within the feet-thick walls, behind a dry moat and a spiked iron fence, was a somber citadel on the far end of the plaza in which she currently stood, nearly as big as Castle Amber, yet constructed in a patchwork of styles as if it had undergone serious renovation at least twice… were those Chaosian needle-towers?!

“Rinaldo!”

Sarah started at the female voice, automatically looking up to the source: there, on one of the staircases to the right that led into the courtyard, limned in torchlight, was a beautiful woman of indeterminate age – tall, with deep-red hair and dark eyes – wearing a long, open fur coat, her bejeweled dress underneath fit for a queen! She was smiling as she smoothly ran down the flight to greet the king of Kashfa, who had dismounted and quickly approached to meet her halfway at the base… and embraced her warmly, kissing her on the cheek before motioning Sarah to join them!

“Come here – she isn’t going to bite,” he laughed, gesturing the girl closer with one hand.

Unsure of what society dictated under the circumstances beyond the obvious, much less what manner of sorceress this way (for it was undoubtedly the lady in charge here from the way she carried herself), Sarah meekly approached and curtsied demurely.

Are you a good witch or a bad witch? crazily flashed through her mind.

“Mother,” Rinaldo began a bit more quietly, “I should like to present to you Sarah Williams of Shadow Earth, a specially-gifted young lady with a natural penchant for attracting trouble – definitely your wheelhouse; bet you anything you’ll like her. Sarah, this is my mother, the lady Jasra Barimen, former queen of Kashfa; she basically stepped aside so I could take the throne.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Sarah managed to articulate somehow with her mind suddenly flying every which way! Jasra Barimen?! The girl hadn’t even realized the woman was yet living from how far back she was mentioned in Kashfan history! And here she was, looking not a day over forty! Although magic could do that, too… Reminding herself of the lady’s Chaosian descent, Sarah forced a passable smile. No one so much as knew Jasra’s original last name, and she seemed keen on retaining Barimen, refusing to remarry after her husband’s untimely passing in the War (that was the polite way of couching the bloody, traitorous event), despite a string of lovers with high military connections!

There was something about a woman who genuinely worried an advanced AI like the Ghostwheel…

The lady was also uncannily perceptive, for she chose that moment to sigh theatrically.

“I can see only too clearly that my previous reputation continues to precede me after all this time,” she uttered decisively, taking Rinaldo by surprise! “Kashfan historians obviously still hate strong-willed women. But nevermind that,” she forced a little lip-smile of her own. “I bid you welcome to my current stronghold, Sarah. Shall we retire to an indoor location?” she glanced upward a moment, as if scrutinizing the weather. “We may be in for a little unseasonable snowfall if the winds continue to press westward like this.” She started back up the stairs, and Rinaldo nodded for Sarah to follow; he and the servants with their luggage brought up the rear. “I hope your journey here was not too difficult for you,” the woman continued in a more social tone with a glance back.

“Not really – mostly just long,” Sarah answered her mildly.

“Yeah,” Rinaldo chimed in, “be sure to omit the part where you almost drove us smack-dab into Middle Earth by mistake.”

An explosive laugh issued from the former queen, catching Sarah a bit off-guard! “I thought I sensed something of the Power about you, girl! You would also be an initiate of the Broken Way, then?”

“No, it’s… complicated,” Sarah faltered. They had reached the landing and a regular-sized reinforced wooden door; the lady entered, and they followed after, into a stone tunnel that was lit every so many feet by blue-glowing wizard globes along the low ceiling, rather in the manner of electric lights!

“She’s actually right,” Rinaldo backed Sarah up as the tunnel abruptly emptied into a larger hallway and they turned left, past an armored, armed guard who saluted in passing. “That particular conversation warrants better privacy than just out here for any and all of your retainers and servants to overhear.” He caught Sarah by the arm, pulling her a step back to pace him. “Better watch what you say around her, too; being away from court means my mother is practically starved for gossip out here.”

“You know perfectly well that I can still hear you back there, Rinny,” Jasra dryly quipped.

“You know how I hate being called that!” the king of Kashfa rejoindered.

“Then stop behaving like a child,” the lady easily admonished.

Sarah did not have to see the woman’s face to hear the smile in her voice: she was enjoying this fleeting chance to tease her now-powerful son!

Or was it so fleeting, she suddenly wondered?

“Here we are! This seemed far more suitable to the occasion and just us three than that drafty, chilly old dining hall in the Citadel,” Jasra warmly announced, interrupting Sarah’s train-of-thought, unlocking a door to the right and breezing into a cozy sitting room that was not only furnished with rather modern couches, coffee tables and bookshelves, but place-settings for dinner on a rounded table near the thin, glass-covered slit windows, which had originally been archers’ shafts, if Sarah’s guess wasn’t amiss! “Take our guest’s things to her room; his majesty will have his usual quarters in the Citadel,” she ordered the servants with the luggage promptly as they accepted everyone’s wraps as well, making a quick exit. Now Sarah was really glad Rinaldo was still carrying the Dreamstone on his person! And yet… all of this seemed very planned for such short notice…

Sarah could’ve smacked herself in the forehead: trumps! Prince Brand had been a talented artist by all accounts, talented enough to create them himself; surely he had made sets for his wife and his son! The king of Kashfa must’ve contacted his mother to arrange for all of this – probably late last night – warning her that they were coming!

Then she had a sudden sinking feeling: had he mentioned why? But Sarah almost laughed at her justifiably paranoid reaction as she was escorted across the room.

Who am I kidding? She probably already knows anything and everything pertinent from what I told Rinaldo; she’s just playing dumb to be polite! Forcing herself to relax (it was well beyond the time to be panicking), she took her proffered seat and unfolded her linen napkin in her lap. Oh well, two can play at this game. “Lady Jasra, what did you say was the name of this fortress? If you mentioned it, I failed to hear it.”

The tall woman elegantly seated herself across from Sarah, studying her eyes for the barest fraction of a second before replying with a small smirk. “The name means little without at least a glancing explanation. Your Thari is excellent, by-the-way; I commend your tutor,” she unexpectedly gave her a broad, knowing smile, “but you are American by birth, correct?”

“Yes,” Sarah replied, beginning to have fresh trepidations about just how much this woman might know!

“Then you are familiar with the idea of the ‘four corners’ region in the western part of your country, where four states all cleanly join together in one locality.” She took a sip of freshly-poured white wine as a simple yet nice supper was brought in and served from behind them: some manner of herbed fish-steak with sea-vegetables, and rolls that faintly smelled of honey, served with butter. The retinue from the kitchen left the room with their lady’s quick dismissal, closing the door. Jasra’s sharp, mahogany-tone eyes flicked back to Sarah. “Same idea here, basically, but on a far grander scale,” she vaguely gestured at their surroundings with her fork; Rinaldo took the loose cue and started eating, with Sarah quickly joining him. “While it is a rare anomaly, at least on the Orderside of things, this place is founded upon the conjunction of four separate shadow-worlds – I take it I don’t have to explain that.”

Sarah shook her head, chewing.

“The Keep of the Four Worlds… perhaps not the most artistic of names, but it does get the point across. Hence the erratic weather patterns,” she editorialized, commencing her own meal.

“Do you hold commerce with all the adjoining Shadows, then?” Sarah asked between bites; she’d never eaten fish quite like this before – it wasn’t bad, but a bit strongly-flavored. The spinach-like seaweed made for a needed salty counterpoint to help balance it out.

“Not exactly. Oh, we have political relations of sorts with our immediate neighbors to the east, but most of my… business dealings lie further afield out of basic necessity; as you could doubtless see on your way down, this world is hardly a breadbasket,” she reached for the rolls on the table, taking one, buttering it, then setting it aside on her plate so that the spread could melt.

“The ginsu’s good as usual,” Rinaldo complimented. “Your regular sharkmonger, Mother?”

Sarah blinked, surprised: she was eating some kind of alien shark?! Jasra caught the brief expression before it was suppressed and chuckled quietly.

“Why just use the dorsal fin for some allegedly magical cure-all soup when you can eat most of the rest of the animal? And we export the leathers, too; it gives the locals the chance to earn a few extra coins.”

“I’ll admit I’d wondered if your people fished that ocean, but there weren’t any boats in sight on the shore when we drove by.”

“Doing it standing on ‘dry land’ is dangerous enough here,” Rinaldo answered her. “The Sea of Antali is always rough near this coast and the water’s mostly full of man-eaters who’ll chew straight through any vessel to get at the sailors – I wouldn’t go swimming out there even on a warm day, let alone go walking on the beach! They even get washed ashore in those huge waves sometimes. The type of shark we’re currently consuming is just as savage on land as it is in the water; it takes several full-grown men plus the angler to subdue one once it’s hauled in. I’ll spare you the gory details, but you couldn’t pay me enough to do that job! There are admittedly crazy folks who apparently get this huge rush out of the danger of it, though,” he shook his head, eating some more. “If I want that kind of excitement, all I have to do is put a bunch of my paternal relatives in a room and watch them have at it. It’s usually safer for the observer.”

His mother looked as if she were about to say something, then realized that they weren’t alone for a change and kept eating.

Yikes! “… if it’s such a hard-scrabble existence, why does anybody bother to live out here?” Sarah posited as innocently as she could manage, already roughly guessing the answer yet curious as to what her hostess would say; yonder citadel simply bristled with power – she could’ve set a compass by it!

Jasra eyed her plate, but her expression was curiously far away. “Granted it is a bit off the beaten track, but we always – that is, my late husband and I, always liked this place; it still holds a lot of good memories for me, of when he was still with us,” she briefly glanced at her son, who refused to acknowledge it; that was interesting. “We all have our own little sentimental follies. There, you know mine now; it’s only fair that you let me in on one of yours,” she obviously shifted the subject, finally eating the roll on her plate while eying Sarah expectantly.

“What did I tell you?” Rinaldo remarked, seeming rather at home himself here. “You’d best just humor her before she changes her mind and starts asking more invasive questions about things that actually matter.”

“How dare you,” his mother just as casually replied, more amused than irritated. “If you weren’t a king in your own right, I’d send you away to a Chaosian finishing school yet – you know I could.” The tease was a real half-threat by the sound of it!

Alright, at least my family isn’t this screwed up, Sarah thought, taking a small sip of wine herself, preparing to launch into the old spiel about her own mother’s acting career – oddly the most comprehensive ‘light’ topic she could conjure well on such short notice. It was incredible to think that her entire early life had truly become fodder for frivolous parlor conversation amongst assorted royals!

To her surprise, Jasra actually seemed genuinely interested in Sarah’s convoluted family life, as messy and mundane as it was, asking question after pertinent question about each of her parents in turn, almost like she sort of cared on a basic decency level… or perhaps it was mere curiosity if the lady was truly that bored. The bottom line was that she was good enough at this that Sarah honestly couldn’t tell either way – not that it really mattered. In the course of the conversation, her own more current academic life came up, and this in turn triggered the former queen of Kashfa’s bragging proud parent instincts and even a few stories of Rinaldo’s scholastic exploits at U.C. Berkeley, all whilst deftly not explaining why he was there at all! Granted arguendo, many of the Barimen clan chose to undergo secondary educations upon Shadow Earth, but the regaling was just a shade too clean to be anywhere near a complete story after a fashion. Then again as far as outward show was concerned, Sarah had been playing rather close to the vest as well; it only followed.

Dinner was finished with small preserved fruit tarts, the silver tray discreetly hidden on a bookshelf by the servants until it was time so that they would not have to be disturbed again; the queen fetched it, bring it over to the table.

“Normally I would order coffee service also – especially for you, dear Rinaldo, with your addiction,” the lady of the Keep made show of her lavish affection, draping an arm around his shoulders as she came back with them, “but I know you’ve had a long day,” she addressed Sarah again, “and that you have another long one ahead of you tomorrow, and that you need your rest.”

It was obvious that Sarah was not going to be seeing the citadel and whatever mysteries lay within it, let alone get any sort of tour even of these outer areas. Still…

“Were those Chaosian minarets always a part of the Citadel?” she boldly inquired, picking up a tart by its thin, crisp crust; they were obviously finger-food. “The style is rather distinctive; it isn’t seen that often ‘out here’.” She had a feeling that the lady had already been briefed on Sarah’s tenure ‘there’, that the frank sentiment would not be shocking.

Neither was she incorrect, although the direct question out-of-the-blue did inadvertently succeed in throwing Jasra off-balance for a second; she almost instantly recovered her composure, however, with a rueful little lip-smile, conceding the knowledge as she sat back down.

“Sieges and battles do tend to be a bit rough on one’s furnishings, so-to-speak, and a good remodel or two can do wonders for making a mere residence feel more like a home. I also have a taste for the modernist industrial style of building to be found on your home shadow, but it is difficult to find workers proficient in such manners of construction ‘out here’, as you put it,” she glanced in passing at one of the thin, converted windows… then turned back to her young guest with a smugly knowing, catlike expression that instantly made Sarah uneasy in turn. “I wasn’t about to bring it up unless you did. Tell me, Sarah, for I am indeed curious on this point: what did you think of ‘out there’?” she pointedly insinuated. “What were your impressions? Tell me.”

Okay, this was definitely a test Sarah hadn’t planned on, but probably should’ve; she did note that the lady was plying the surface of the topic tentatively in vagarities to start, likely seeing if she could pressure Sarah into giving something away that even Rinaldo might’ve swerved around telling her! But it meant she was free to give answer that way, too.

“Strange. Scary. Incomprehensible. Alien.” She gave a humorless laugh. “Beautiful. Amazing: everything a surrealist dream of a world should be… I don’t know, maybe I…” The sentiment suddenly poured out of her unexpectedly, as if it had just been uncorked, “maybe it would have been different – better – if I had actually… chosen.”

She could see Rinaldo’s silent surprise as her unbidden unburdening out of her peripheral vision: he clearly hadn’t told his mother that! Jasra for her part was studying Sarah’s features very seriously now, her gossipy demeanor instantly hardening in a way Sarah hadn’t seen since her stint in the Courts.

“You were never even given a choice,” she uttered flatly, “either time. Were you? None of them even allowed you free will; an involuntary conscriptee the whole way around.”

Dessert was practically forgotten… until Jasra paused to eat the tart on her small plate, and Sarah suddenly remembered her own: it was sweet with figs, similar to a cookie. She helped herself to another, grateful for the momentary distraction from their current conversational turn for the worse!

“Well,” Jasra finally said after another sip of wine, “as far as I can tell, there’s only one cure for that particular problem, and that is to thoroughly understand what you desire to have and to do with your life. Take it from me: where you’ve been doesn’t matter half as much as where you’re going, provided that you can at least be honest with yourself about it and plan well accordingly,” she quietly lectured her – then noticed Rinaldo trying very hard not to laugh. “Does his majesty have anything positive to contribute to the topic at hand?”

“Only an off-color, snarky joke that wouldn’t be in keeping with your strangely altruistic mood, Mother,” he managed to force out without cracking up.

She glared at him reprovingly. “They’re both breaking the rules when the powers pull stunts like this. I’m merely evening up the playing field a little.”

“In other words,” Sarah interjected, “don’t be used blindly.”

Jasra smiled her approval, nodding. “I am satisfied that you have already intuited your standing in these things, and can so readily be at terms with it.” She rose, the meal obviously over, and they rose with her. “Sarah, I took the liberty of having a room prepared for you just through there,” she turned and pointed to a floor-length tapestry on the wall almost directly behind the king. “The outer areas of the compound have seen even more recent renovation than the citadel, and I believe you will be more comfortable here for the night. At least the apartments are small enough to warm ambiently by my arts, which isn’t necessarily true of the older sections.”

Sarah nodded appreciatively, thinking of the cold, drafty castle at Jidrash. Magic apparently can’t solve everything, she reflected, maybe it’s just the wrong-

“Rest well, Sarah,” Rinaldo interrupted her ruminations warmly, sidling past her, clasping her shoulders for a moment on his way by; she automatically met his friendly green gaze. “We have to awake and depart early tomorrow, so get a good night’s sleep.”

Sarah had been on the verge of saying something, but it was as if the entire day had just caught up with her; she was suddenly exhausted.

“You know, I think I actually will,” she fought back a yawn, stepping over to the tapestry – but as she went to pull it aside, her hand merely passed straight through the fabric! A hesitant glance back at Jasra was met with another of the lady’s smug feline smiles.

“There are no Ways here, merely decorative illusions,” her hostess explained. “Although I must confess these have been known to stave off homesickness for that end of the spectrum. I may not be able to see you off, so I will bid you safe journey now. It was pleasant to make your acquaintance, Sarah. I shall not forget.”

“Nice to have met you, too,” the girl answered, still unsure of how to address the lady with no title to go by; a yawn did slip out this time! “Forgive me,” she laughed, embarrassed, “I don’t know why I can’t stop!”

“I do,” those dark eyes turned decidedly devious, “you traveled over 500 miles in Shadow in a single afternoon! Come, Rinaldo, let us leave our guest to recuperate if you truly plan on pushing ahead this hard the entire way,” she took the king by the arm, forcefully leading him out… but not before he could look over his shoulder at Sarah with a little smile that was communicative by itself: no problems here. We got this.

In seconds Sarah was alone. She trudged into the well-appointed guest bedroom, pulled off her shoes and crawled into bed without any ado at all, not even noticing the wizard globes automatically dimming to nightlight lumen-level. It was probably just the alcohol; she wasn’t accustomed to even this much drinking, which was actually comparatively modest for the culture. The thought of inter-dimensional jetlag hadn’t crossed her mind in so long…

She was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.


As moonlight floods
The castle windows
Like sunshine
And the queen meditates
With her mending husband
In the circle of statues
Seeking answers,
Another Vialle enters
Equally as lovely
Yet pale
But with eyes that can see
Unlike her majesty
Mute, though
Mouthing poorly
Deaf
Demanding the queen’s seat
By handsigns
To inquire the oracle herself.

Her boon granted
That which is named Tongue
Ceases to speak,
Yet bright visions appear
In the midst of the circle,
Colorless:
Of the Dreamstone
Of Tir-na Nog’th,
Her home and country,
Of the blurring
Fragmenting
Falling
Apart
And, at the end
Which could be,
An endless sleep
To round the lives
Of all.


“Sarah Williams of Shadow Earth, awake if you hear me! Arise, for it is direly important!”

Sarah drifted groggily as if in a dream, barely half-alert. “… not… morning… sleep…” Her unfocused eyes flittered in REM motion; they drifted closed and she rolled over, breathing deeply.

The unknown party shook her vigorously by the shoulders, sitting her up in the process. “You must awake!” Abruptly the voice lowered, skewing male and very familiar. “Sarah, snap out of it this instant!”

The girl’s eyes popped open – and she realized that a stranger had her tightly by the arms! She went to scream, but a soft hand covered her mouth as a Chaosian spirit-light was conjured in midair, near her face so that she could see…

She was face-to-face with a young woman who couldn’t be older than her late twenties! She was definitely full-figured but not fat, with a fairly cute rounded-oval face and long black hair. Both open concern and real fear stood in her dark eyes.

“You are clear-headed now?” she nodded hopefully. “Or do you require a further reviving spell, for me to call upon the Dark Lady to destroy the muddle they made in your mind?” the stranger whispered anxiously.

“What are you going on about?!” Sarah whispered harshly in return, roughly unhanding herself, scooting back against the padded headboard. “Who the hell are you?!”

The figure was oddly amused by her outburst. “Who the hell, indeed… Even my dear husband has refused to learn my true name out of care for me. To all else, I am Queen Nayda Orkuz-Barimen of Kashfa, and unless I am horribly mistaken, my true-love is in grave danger and I am helpless to protect him this time! But you can! Grab your things and come with me! Quickly!” she yanked at Sarah’s wrists.

But Sarah pulled back. “Uh-uh, I’ve had this one put over on me before: fool me thrice and I’m just a fool! How do I even know you’re who you say you are?”

“Here!” the young lady thrust her wedding band into the light: two phoenixes with emerald eyes embraced upon the thick gold band! “Please, you must believe me! We have so little time!”

“But how-”

Her query was cut off by a sudden vision – of herself nodding off in the carriage earlier that day, of the king of Kashfa carefully watching to make sure she was out, then easing in beside her on the bench, holding her by the shoulders, murmuring post-hypnotic suggestions in her ear, actions to be triggered by certain phrases uttered by himself alone! The vision cut out just as abruptly: she was suddenly back in the bedroom! The self-proclaimed queen had fetched her carryall, shoving Sarah’s boots and the black cloak toward her!

“How could you possibly – is your ‘sight’ truly that powerful?” Sarah asked, rapidly pulling them on, lacing everything that needed lacing fast. “And why would a native Begman ever follow the Way of the Serpent?!”

“Let us say that you are partially right in your suspicion that I am not entirely as I seem, but leave it at that for the moment,” Nayda demurred, helping her to get up. “I am truly worried that Luke will do something very dangerous to his person this night – forgive me: Rinaldo. I knew him as Luke Raynard first, in another place. This way,” she made for a solid-seeming wall, grasping Sarah’s hand firmly; they passed right through it and into an extremely long corridor that looked oddly translucent… as did the guards within it that they were passing by, as if they weren’t even there! “I believe he actually means you no lasting harm,” she answered Sarah’s unasked question, “but you are too intimately involved, and so he wishes some modicum of control over the situation for his own safety – which I could forgive him, if that was all. But if I know my stepmother – and to know her at all is to know her well – her lust for power is simply insatiable; this plan has her fingerprints all over it! And even after what happened to her husband!”

Queen Nayda turned a sharp right, racing down a long flight of stairs, dragging Sarah along with her; as they went, the feeling of latent power all about them was growing markedly stronger!

“What is it about this place?!” Sarah wondered aloud as they tore through what appeared to be a wine cellar. “I’ve never felt anything like it – that’s raw magic!”

“Indeed,” her raven-haired companion concurred, dodging wooden crates on the floor. “The Keep boasts the biggest leyline-style conjunction in existence! How are your legs holding up? Would it be easier if I simply carried you upon my back? Alas, my form cannot change to accommodate you more easily, as with my more distant brethren.”

Sarah stopped on a dime – and nearly had her shoulder yanked out of the socket as a result! Nayda instantly turned back… and saw that the girl had notably paled, physically shaking, her eyes wide in comprehension.

“You’re possessed,” she whispered, shrinking away from her.

The entity’s ‘own’ eyes were steadying, insistent. “This body’s owner died of an illness many years ago; I have it free and clear. I courted him in another guise, but Luke knows who and what I am and he’s okay with me like this, since I didn’t choose my current… outcome,” she faltered. “I didn’t hurt the true Nayda, and I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I only asked out of practicality; you slept perhaps an hour at best, and you will be needing your full strength for what is to come! Come here,” she turned around, motioning for the girl to give her her arms to wrap about her shoulders.

“If you are what you say,” Sarah responded uneasily, “can you actually undo those other suggestions his majesty…implanted, before this goes any further?”

“You do fear the Dark Lady, even after your close acquaintance,” Nayda suddenly gave a pixie-grin at the thought, “but for this I can try on my own. Close your eyes.”

Sarah did so. To her amazement, when Nayda spoke again the voice she heard was Rinaldo’s! Hands grasped her shoulders gently.

“From this moment, I release you from my commands, Sarah – awake!”

To her surprise she actually jolted a bit, as if she had truly been out! Nayda was looking at her hopefully.

“That should’ve done it, if you believe it did. Now come!”

Just as Sarah suspected, ‘Nayda’ was uncannily strong for her size and build; the moment she was mounted piggyback on her, they were tearing through the basement at a frighteningly unnatural speed, approaching a staircase leading up about an incredibly thick structural column! Not even pausing a beat, the demon-lady raced up the flight, noiseless as a cat, taking the risers two at a time, up the curving grand as the feeling of power implausibly continued to get stronger…

Until they came through into an immense, dimly lit empty room… save for the sizable black marble fountain in the center that was shooting geysers of liquid fire into the air above it, as if the element were water! Sarah forgot to breathe for a few seconds upon seeing it: there was absolutely no question now! Even without training, without any ‘sensitivity’ at all, there was enough power here that even a mere shadow-human could probably learn to wield it shamanically, if it didn’t kill them first! It felt like the arcane equivalent of being in Nikola Tesla’s laboratory, with all that stray current flying about – and it was likely just as dangerous, in the right hands! Nayda paused upon seeing it herself, seeming to take strength from its energy and warmth from a safe distance (likely ‘recharging’) before continuing on up the curving staircase to the right of the Fount, a bit more cautiously.

“At least she isn’t attempting to tamper with the Stone this way, not right away,” the demon lady whispered over her shoulder, “but I wouldn’t put it past her, later, once the initial imprinting is finished to whatever result,” she physically shivered, tiptoeing up.

“What is it specifically that you fear about this? Besides the obvious, I mean,” Sarah whispered back.

They came to the second-floor landing and Nayda let Sarah down before rapidly hissing in her ear. “If Luke attunes himself to the Dreamstone, I fear he will become as much a phantom as the ghosts of Tir-na Nog’th! I could not even follow him where he would drift after such transformation, bound to this accursed body as I am! Let me go first: I will try to reason with him and provide sufficient distraction for you to snatch the Stone from wherever they have it set up for the ritual. I will try to protect you, but once you have the artifact you will have to put it on and discard my cloak quickly. We may be lucky and the Stone will simply transport you away if it senses you are in mortal danger, but I wouldn’t count on it, not if the gimmick is known to them also. I will cover your escape as best I can, but you must travel south into Denjak where the drifts will quickly fill your tracks, and from there seek out Prince Corwin yourself.”

“Corwin?! But that’s what my enemy told me to do in the first place!” Sarah quietly protested as she was forcefully dragged by the wrist down the adjacent hallway, which was also dimly lit with more of those bluish globes.

“The prince, not the place,” the young queen corrected, listening at the closed wooden doors they were passing. “Order-based shadow-walking should accommodate searching for a specific person if it works on all else; even one of his highness’ shadow-doubles might be good enough, if they share sufficient manners of thought-process. Ask him for further aid. This is as much as I can offer.”

Listening at another door, Nayda suddenly straightened. “This one: she is still weaving spells of protection about him, as if they will preserve his soul!” Turning to Sarah, she pulled the borrowed cloak about the girl, drawing it close, partly lowering the hood, incanting at lightning-speed in that odd dialect of ancestral Thari Sarah had only ever heard Suhuy speak! Then the queen gripped her hand a moment. “Stay behind me, then keep to the shadows along the walls as much as possible. Be prepared to run the very moment you have it!”

The door was locked and bolted from the inside, but with a single-word command, Nayda blew the thick wooden affair straight off its hinges, tearing into the large workroom and wizard’s laboratory with Sarah in her wake! The king of Kashfa was currently lying prone upon what appeared to be an examination table, flames dancing in the air over his body in occult formations in various places, with his mother standing at his side doing the work; the Dreamstone was hanging from a silver pedestal on a side table to the right, surrounded by the physical trappings of Jasra’s Art – but seemingly within reach! And the little cloth bag was right beside it on the bench!

Upon hearing (and probably ‘feeling’) the disturbance, the former queen of Kashfa instantly looked back, her expression one of frightening ire mixed with real confusion and supreme irritation!

“Nayda, darling,” she addressed her daughter-in-law icily, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your untimely and violent breaking-and-entering into my private quarters?”

“I am here to protest for the sake of the man I love! You are going to kill him! You knowingly use your only son – your flesh and blood, all you have left of your husband – as a guinea pig!” the lady passionately exclaimed, fearlessly approaching. “What power in any realm could possibly be worth that?!”

Rinaldo opened his eyes and turned his head, glaring at her from where he lay. “I told you to stay out of this, that no harm would come to any of us! You disgrace both yourself and our kingdom with your behavior – go home!”

“I won’t let you do this, no matter what you choose to do with me!” she pleaded with him as she reached the table, lovingly stroking his cheek, tears filling her human eyes. “Please don’t become a spectre when I am no longer free to join you that way!”

“Oh, Nayda,” Rinaldo sighed tiredly, reaching up to cradle his wife’s face in his hand, shaking his head, “do you really think me that much of a fool, to risk myself like that? True, there is a chance of gaining an ephemeral physical state in the process, but we are confident that it could be consciously controlled with training and practice-”

“And I am not; you know nothing of which you speak from practical hands-on experience as I do, and your mother fills your ears with dreams of opulent grandeur that comes at too high a price! We don’t need it – Kashfa doesn’t need it! She needs her king! Please come back home with me before it is too late!”

All the while that the demon-lady’s confrontation was taking place, Sarah had been creeping toward that bizarre workstation, barely daring to breathe; upon reaching the Stone, she felt a light tension at the approach of her hand as she passed it through the warding circle – an obvious precaution, but for her purposes it would act like a burglar alarm and she had neither the time nor the experience with her Pattern-based theoretical powers to disarm it. Resigning herself to what was undoubtedly to follow, she loosened the ties of the cloak so that it would fall away in one clean pull: bracing herself, she released her camouflage and swiped the Stone and bag in one quick movement, gritting her teeth against the temporary burning pain from breaking the circle!

The shouting match on the other side of the room stopped on a dime, but Sarah gave the situation no second-thoughts! Thrusting the necklace over her head, she just barely managed to bolt out of the broken-down doorway before heavy steel bars spontaneously appeared to seal the portal! Tearing off down the corridor, Sarah wished they had figured out a cleaner method of escape than this, but she understood that too many variables were involved to make concrete plans like that as she ran down the staircase again; there was a door in the front of this room at ground-level!

And those variables included things that couldn’t possibly help Sarah even if she had known, like the fact that Jasra could teleport within the Citadel! The lady suddenly stood at the foot of the staircase! Sarah heard dashing boots from behind, stopping at the top: she was trapped already!

“Sarah,” the former queen addressed her with authority, “I can understand how you could be swept up in a rather naïve and emotional ‘rescue’ plot like this, but you can trust that I actually know what I’m doing on this count. This is the highest initiation my Rinaldo will ever have access to; it is practically an extension of his birthright through his father. Do you truly wish to deny him this, with all he’s doing on your behalf at the moment? Just come to one of us – it doesn’t matter which – and I’ll even allow you to watch if you give me your word you will not interfere again. You can hold it up for him if you want to be a part of this historic rite yourself. Shall we let hysterics alone for the time being and proceed being rational? If you are so willing, I would be willing to overlook even this breach in conduct against my person.”

Sarah’s mind was racing as fast as her heart – what could she do?!

“Sarah,” she heard Rinaldo’s rich baritone voice musically intoning from up behind her, “be calm. Your friend will help you if you help. Come here.”

They were closing in! She felt an odd sense of disassociation from her own limbs for a moment, as if they might obey someone else… but the moment passed! Nayda had truly freed her! Sarah was suddenly furious with the king for playing mindgames with her like that! He was just as bad as…

… and the answer fell into place like a lock mechanism: the stairs!

So many, she frantically willed, clutching the Stone, that only I can climb…

At Rinaldo’s sudden exclamation of surprise she looked about her, and before she could think at all with the rational part of her brain she booked it straight up, across a perpendicular, shining flight of risers, then fled upside-down to a landing on the other side of the open room! It had been the perfect place to manifest her memory of the Escher-like Staircase Chamber from the castle beyond the Goblin City! It suddenly struck her as rather odd for the first time, to be employing even a spectre of Chaos for this purpose, but she didn’t have long to think about it: all possible exits to the room were spontaneously barred with walls of magic fire from the Fount that were not merely decorative!

“Sa-rah,” Rinaldo was calling again, although his voice sounded ever-so-slightly less certain. He was easy to ignore now; her adrenaline rush was seeing to that! She dropped flat to the stairs, barely missing being hit by a flying spell from Jasra before taking off again, running blindly through the maze of her own making! Still trapped! It was only a matter of time! It was-

Nayda suddenly appeared unharmed out of the blazing hallway above, catching Jasra by surprise with a slowing spell of her own before she could teleport again! Sarah dashed down to the far right side, swinging over the edge to partially double-back toward the front door – only to be confronted by the Goblin King?!

“You’ve left me waiting long enough, my dear, although I can’t complain if it was to change your attire; it’s an improvement,” he coolly addressed her as she stood there in momentary dumb shock while he adjusted one of his gloves, looking her over! He was dressed all in white, even though it appeared to be his beetle-like plate armor and cloak, which had been black before! “I was beginning to think perhaps you had simply come to the rational conclusion and given up. But no,” he met her eyes again, “that wouldn’t be you,” he smirked tauntingly.

He thinks we’re still in the Labyrinth! she suddenly realized, wondering if this phantom could even see the others – or where they truly were! But if she believed that he could…she could still hear the fracas, the arguing!

“Look, I know that this is probably against your ‘rules of the game’, but I’m calling an official time-out: we’ve got bigger problems!”

Complicated incantations were in-progress below them, above on the second-story landing!

The form of the Goblin King cocked his head to one side, his mismatched eyes staring across at her in open disbelief. “Does this mean you are actually willing to-”

“Duck!” she screamed, bodily pulling him out of the way as another projectile Net spell whizzed past them, straight through the shimmering staircase to ricochet off the wall!

“What the bloody hell?!” he turned in the direction the attack had come from, finally surveying his surroundings, glancing about. “How did they get in here?! Neither of them has even wished anything! And whichever of them put that there is going to pay!” he roared, pointing to the clearly unwanted incendiary decoration which, to his way of thinking, ruined his nice, nausea-inducing visual illusion!

“Hold your horses there, Jareth, it’s not so much a matter of ‘them getting here’ as an ‘us getting there’! There’s no time to explain it-”

“Of course there is,” he quietly snickered a bit insolently… and all the action about them suddenly slowed down to the speed of old molasses! “Now, do stop being an annoying, pushy little bint and just tell me what this is all about,” he crossed his arms.

As he said this, Sarah almost thought she was hallucinating when she saw another of him dash by in slow motion on the other side of the room, upside-down, readying a crystal to hurl down! She blinked a few times; the second Jareth remained, readying his baseball-like pitch!

“And make it quick; I can’t keep this up forever!” the Jareth before her snapped impatiently, openly staring at the glowing, glinting Dreamstone about her neck as if he hadn’t seen it until just now.

Simple version – right. Telling this incredibly convincing simulacrum that he wasn’t even as real as a Pattern-ghost wasn’t in the offing at all. “It really would take too long to explain everything that’s going on here, but we’re currently in that sorceress’ fortress,” she pointed down at a near-motionless Jasra who appeared to have been caught in the process of saying something… as another Jareth appeared behind the lady! “And I have to get out of here before she does something unspeakably awful with this,” she unconsciously touched the Stone, watching her Jareth become even more solid-looking. The fire below was starting to slowly rise higher in the fount! “Her son may try to stop me as well,” she pointed out Rinaldo, “but that lady up there is on our side,” she indicated Nayda.

“Our?” the king noted her usage with amusement, his mocking expression quickly reasserting itself. “So… now this would only be an educated guess on my part, but I’m getting the general impression that you wish for some manner of assistance.” Two more of him flanked Rinaldo in different stances! “I would seem to be in no danger personally unless I obviously take your side, and I can defend myself adequately if attacked for any reason; that’s a given. But you – a girl of perennial disasters, always in need of a ‘friend’ to use…”

Sarah found his level of attention eerily unsettling, yet more unsettlingly sexy if she dared think it for even a moment! She stood her ground bravely, forcing herself to continue breathing as he reached toward her and languorously stroked her cheek with a decidedly intimate light in his eyes.

“You should know by now that I never do work like this for free,” he added as a fifth Jareth-clone appeared upside-down in the middle of the ceiling! “But I might be persuaded for the right price… starting with, say, your brother; that would be half-payment, one assassination, perhaps the boy since you see him as the lesser of the two threats.” He took a step closer. Too close. “I think you know what I would accept for the demise of the witch.”

“But I don’t want you to kill them!” Sarah frantically corrected his assessment! “Can’t you just keep them busy long enough for me to get out of here in one piece with the Stone?”

With an irritated, clipped sigh, the king snapped his fingers and all the doubles instantly changed position somewhat! “Whether or not you realize it, clemency is going to be far harder to deliver, with neither of my opponents pulling their arcane punches. I will expect commensurate compensation in return,” he whispered huskily.

If Sarah wasn’t nervous before, she certainly was now – and in more ways than one!

… and then, flying in the face of all this exotic stimuli, she suddenly remembered: he wasn’t real! Half the present contents of this room weren’t technically real! She’d met the real Jareth after her trial with the Fixed Logrus over which he had once ruled, and he had shown absolutely no sensual interest in her at all, writing her off as some snotty little kid! Granted, she was a bit older now, technically an adult, but his change in demeanor toward her was simply too extreme of a turnaround!

Unless her subconscious knew that she required a version of him that would be more willing to work with and for… her. The implications made her want to gag, but she had to admit it made the most sense of anything that was going on here. And chances were the moment she took the Dreamstone back off, he would vanish like the skewed memory he was, if not before!

In short, she could actually afford to agree to his preposterously monstrous terms in good faith… because he would never come to collect!

“I’ll grant you another eighteen nanoseconds to decide, just to be generous,” he abruptly butted into her train-of-thought, “but I will warn you that should you refuse, all the moves I’ve been setting up in advance will be taken back before you can blink, and that sorceress will likely have you in her power in about ten seconds flat.”

Sarah was so distracted by this new information that she didn’t immediately think to say yes! “How are you… what are you doing?”

“Stacking the deck to ensure my odds, naturally,” he gave her a mocking smile. “I have no doubt that your enemies here are quite capable in the present, but what about the past and the future, I wonder? Speaking of which, your time it almost up-”

“Yes!” she blurted before she could consider the sheer madness of the entire situation any further! “You can have us both – but not right now. Later, once I’ve reached a place of safety,” she nodded, trying to act more confident than she felt.

The Goblin King’s grin turned foxlike as the world started to gradually speed up again. “The moment I so much as lay eyes upon you again out of danger, you’re mine,” he purred – another Jareth right behind her unexpectedly leaned in and kissed the side of her neck in an erotic slow-motion, making her knees treacherously wobble a little! “Until next time, Precious,” the original kissed the back of her hand as his double continued tasting her delicate skin just below her left ear…

And time sped back up to normal… and all the Jareths went into extreme fast-forward, speeding away!

“Fugue-melee! Look out!” Jasra barely had time to scream from below before her whole attention was suddenly riveted to her skin: she had never itched so terribly in her life! Only the pain from her long nails raking her arms, chest, and back served to restore her to her senses! She banished the irritation spell, only to see Rinaldo’s breeches strangely moving upon his body: earwigs were falling out upon the floor as he ripped at them! Another simple banishment took care of it… and immediately a venomous snake wrapped about Jasra’s neck; it had been thrown there! As she subdued it with her own neurotoxic mouth-stinger, Rinaldo was working a distortion spell that would make the only viable exit appear to be right in front of him – only to have his concentration interrupted by slugs pelting him in the face!

Meanwhile, Nayda had managed to cross the room and was working on freeing the front door for Sarah, but a fresh curtain of fire fell across the wall, then down, and she had to leap away to avoid being hit by it!

The place didn’t even have windows to break through to escape, which was starting to feel about as likely as just swimming away in a bathing suit from a deeply submerged submarine! Sarah’s only present consolation was that it meant that none of those soldiers she had seen could get in, either! Not that it made things much better! At least her version of Jareth was acquitting himself with aplomb. It was actually sort of scary how good he really was: he had become a one-man shooting gallery, seeming to be in many places at once for fractions of a second, deploying some of the most dastardly annoying spellwork Sarah had ever seen with the adroit precision of a virtuoso! How had she ever made it through the Fixed Logrus at all, she suddenly wondered? He had to have either voluntarily curtailed his own power use in order to observe what the Labyrinth would do to her on its own, or it had to do with that-

A dark compulsion nearly made contact with her mind, but she shielded against it out of knee-jerk habit… by using the Pattern! She had just called up the Sign for a fraction of a second to banish the spell without meaning to! Was that why both Jasra and Rinaldo were keeping their distance like they were? Because they were actually afraid of her, of what she might unknowingly be capable of?! It was quite a heady thought, but she wasn’t certain how far she wanted to test it under current circumstances, especially if it would wear her out quickly!

She looked for Jareth – and saw that Jasra had almost succeeded in tying him up in his own scarf-trick, lengthening the strips of gauzy fabric out like a gigantic pair of brilliantly-colored moray eels, swimming through the air after him before another of his lightning-fast teleports! Music started playing out of absolutely nowhere, and Rinaldo involuntarily danced a couple measures before jamming the frequency with white noise, fishing for Sarah yet again, this time with a panic burst, painting himself as ‘safe.’ The working actually made it through this time, but unbeknownst to him the sensation was so familiar to her in variation from back when she used to work with the Fixed Logrus that Sarah required no magic at all to accept and subliminate the effects! Nayda’s continuing attempts at reopening the room were still getting thwarted regularly, even though she seemed to be in little physical danger herself no matter what came her way; it was deterrent magic only! At one point, she made the mistake of coming too close to Rinaldo to try and freeze him, and he caught her by surprise – with a passionate kiss! But she slumped unconscious in his arms, falling to the Reverse Sleeping Beauty, and he gently lay her down at the base of the blazing, swirling Fount, out of the game.

Jasra was clearly done playing footsie herself: she had dispensed with using carefully preconstructed High Magic spellwork in favor of directly working with the immense powers of the Fount; she superficially resembled a spider in the center of a brightly glowing, golden web constructed of cables of raw force! The colors pulsed, changing hue, as she rose into the air to directly confront both of her opponents; Jareth appeared behind her to pinch her butt, sniggering wickedly as she swiped for him in vain, passing through nothing yet again! Her gaze returned to Sarah – who had taken the brief respite to distance herself once more!

“You have to realize that even using a proxy like this is going to drain you. I would rather it did not come to that; you are being very rash and reckless with your strength, if not your-”

A giant slashing machine dropped out of the ceiling in the sorceress’ direction; she dodged it easily, then genuinely laughed as the whole ridiculous-looking contraption vanished harmlessly into the floor! “What did I tell you? Even now your reserves are beginning to severely wane. You were trained in more than Thari in Chaos, weren’t you? For as much temporal aggravation as you have needlessly caused me this night, I will admit that it has been quite an impressive display for an amateur. Call truce now and we can discuss matters further like civilized adults. I’ve been trying very hard not to hurt you, believe it or not; it’s easier said than done – oh!”

Sarah’s own eyes watered on the spot as well: Jareth had recreated the stench of the Bog to revolting, stomach-churning perfection! Taking advantage of the momentary sensory distraction, she jogged across the shining flights again, toward the right-hand side of the Citadel; if she had to immediately flee into Denjak from here, one way or another it was probably best to try to stay on this side… or did it matter? Was she only fooling herself that she could actually get away from these two, even temporarily?

To her surprise and horror, her stairs started to vanish, being consumed from the edges in by those fiery cables, forcing her closer to the center! As if in anticipation of the outcome perhaps all of fifteen seconds from now, a huge parachute-like structure inflated directly under her on the stone floor, to cushion her impending fall! It smelled so lovely…to simply drift into it…like a cloud…

Abruptly some part of her mind registered that she hadn’t seen any of the Jareths at all in a while; her eyes slowly scanned the room for him… until she saw him out on a portion of the already-consumed staircase, still standing there as if nothing had changed! Only he was changing: rather than appearing pastel, he was glowing brightly, taking in some of the new power! Winking at her weak smile, putting a gloved finger to his lips – making her shudder at the memory in spite of her current mental state – he tossed a crystal filled with golden light to the floor on the left-hand side of the room; by the time it was there, he had not only doubled down his previous course of interdiction with a fresh and positively giddy vengeance, but the crystal had morphed into two goblins and the largest cannon Sarah had ever seen! With an order to fire, the thing was set alight and from it exploded ordinance the size of a wrecking ball! Even stranger was how slowly it was traveling… and that it had handlebars along the back of it!

It was headed straight toward her!

“Grab it!” she heard Jareth yell from about three different directions at once, as armed goblins flooded the floor-level out of absolutely nowhere to harry the king of Kashfa into physically defending himself with a saber that he just grabbed from the Fount, its blade shining liquid fire! Jasra was currently concentrating on how to trap and subdue the more dangerous of her two nuisances when the distinct sensation of downward tugging caught her attention… and she beheld an army of goblins trying to pull her to the floor by her own cords of power, to the cry of ‘heave-ho!’ in English! Before she could shoot them off, a bevy of them clambered up as well as if the cords were nothing more than ratlines, swarming her en masse! She finally managed to electrically shock them off all at once, watching as their ugly, armored, twitching little bodies hit the ground – only to spring back up, guffawing and cackling madly! One of them shouted, “Again!” like a child, and at once they resumed their efforts in the same manner as before with the nonchalant can-do attitude of magically impervious workers at some arcane construction site! A few others had figured out that the stinky parachute construct was bouncy and were using it to catapult themselves at Jasra’s steadily sinking form instead of climbing up!

It was a madhouse! Jasra had never seen creatures like this in her entire life! They weren’t even like the native denizens of the Abyss; in fact, they were strangely childlike little imps, shaking off her attacks both physically and psychologically as if she were merely playing a game with them, always coming back for more punishment with clinically insane glee! They cared nothing for themselves – which did put her in mind of the Logrus’ lackeys – but it was an indifference that was more along the lines of any sensation at all being pleasurable!

But what about a lack of sensation? Before she could commence a sensory deprivation spell, she dropped several feet before stabilizing again… and automatically glanced up as she fell, in time to spot her unknown adversary standing on the wall off to one corner, making snipping motions with the fingers of his left hand like a pair of shears, lopping off the power emanations she had been drawing from the walls and ceiling! One of the little imps on the floor near the Fount (which some of them were busily splashing about in like it was a wading pool, the battle clean forgotten!) was trying to annoy Nayda awake… and it seemed to be working!

Sarah took a deep breath as the cannonball came within three feet of her, slowing even further, and she jumped, grabbing the bar firmly with both hands; it wasn’t even hot! Rather than just hanging off it vertically like she was afraid she would at its current speed, her body was pulled along behind it in the same direction of its general force! When she reached the wall about a minute later, she felt the slow-motion impact but tightened her grip, closing her eyes, not wanting to see…

No masonry hit her on the way out; she opened her eyes again – in time to see the thick, guarded outer wall she was sailing over, the expression on the soldiers’ faces one of amazement, then anger, yet the order to fire on her was held back! Instead, she saw a great movement, of making ready to chase after her!

But at the moment – which seemed to be stretching out unnaturally long – she had a more immediate problem: the Münchausen Cannonball (for that was what it was, she was sure of it now) was losing altitude! Deliberately letting go before it could crash, she landed rolling very slowly in soft snow, feeling the ground shake as the huge chunk of metal came to rest also about thirty yards ahead of her; it took so long to get there! Gracious, but she was tired!

The Stone! It had to be pulling on her life-force at this point! The time-flow effect she had just experienced – was still experiencing – was none of Jareth’s doing!

She had to take it off right this instant! Glancing back to the Keep, she could hear the sounds of the ongoing fracas in slow-motion from all the way out here; one way or another, it was all about to end. She closed her eyes.

Jareth, wherever you truly are, you crazy, inventive son-of-a-gun, be well, she willed charitably with a touch of rueful gratitude as she lifted the heavy necklace over her head…

And collapsed in the snow and the night, suddenly bitterly cold: she hadn’t even felt it up until this moment! Shaking, and not just from the frigid temperature, she stiffly sat up and pried her rolled up woolen cloak out of her carryall and placed the Dreamstone back inside the bag, with no time to roughly bundle it in anything other than her clothing, her fingers already numbing; the blouse would make do for the time being. Unsteadily getting back up, she wrapped herself as warmly as she was able (wishing she had the time to pull on her pants underneath the dress as well but unwilling to take off her boots under the circumstances to do so), and started out across the featureless frozen wilderness, a cruelly biting wind filling her tracks with dry snow as she went along. Doing her best to will an inn or somesuch into existence, imagining the cozy bed she’d been dragged out of for this brutal excursion, she did her best not to fall asleep from hypothermia in the process, wrapping her hands inside the woolen fabric of her long sleeves to keep her fingers from getting frostbitten.

And if Prince Corwin were in that room, waiting for me to wake up the next day, like he was back in Amber… She suddenly laughed at an unbidden, wayward thought! It was that version of Jareth’s fault, of course, for getting her mind going like this tonight, but she couldn’t afford to spare the wanton phantom any more of her conscious mind, with what she was trying to do at present. At least the prince, helpful or not, was reality.

And he produces good body heat, too, she remembered, indulging the silly thought a little further, picking up her pace in spite of her fatigue out of the need to keep her own temperature up, wrapping the edge of the cloak over her nose and mouth. Just behind… that glacier will be… an inn…

Summoning what strength she had left, silently petitioning the Pattern, the true Bright Lady, for help, she broke into a desperate run…


For the briefest of moments, a man who had once been nearly a god felt lucid, as if his current existence, his luxuriantly decadent mansion, the pile of gorgeously-formed women in his soft feather bed which was currently draped in lavishly dyed silks, were all just a prolonged fever-dream, that true reality existed somewhere beyond this plane of existence… then the sweet sensations started again and his mind went away.

But he would remember, would examine the oddity later whilst the others slept, for he had his ways…


The phantom that resembled a shadow-man named Jareth remained stone-faced as he was forced to watch the fires of the Black Stone Fount consume his retainers in a terrible wave like flowing lava, despite their screams and infantile cries, as a dead-looking ancient wizard caused the controlled overflow before sinking back into the fiery pool himself, the level banking back down with him. The Goblin King was currently bound, not in the cables of power, but in a chain contraption of the mundane Houdini variety, ensorcelled to ensure that he couldn’t teleport away, suspended in midair precariously above the fire. Even when the pearlescent staircases had spontaneously vanished into the air, all the other constructs had experienced a strangely continued existence due to the fact that the first of them had thought to dip into the Fount’s resources himself!

It was how Jasra had finally nailed him.

His indifferent composure was almost appalling. “If you’re going to destroy me, be about it,” he commented flippantly as if the matter couldn’t mean less to him! “Even were you to torture me, you would learn nothing of any value since you are obviously higher-order initiates than I. It would be a pointless waste of your precious time,” he continued in his own dialect of Thari, which was technically comprehensible to his audience, but hardly one of the ‘pure’ strains.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing with him,” Rinaldo added from his own perch, about a third of the way up the left-hand flight of stairs, his flaming sword still trained on their prisoner (remembering what Merlin had taught him of trisp dueling in the Courts, wondering if he could lengthen his current ‘blade’ similarly), “but we’ve got to find that kid before she gets into real trouble or something happens to that Stone! Wherever she went, the trail should still be fresh enough to follow; she can’t have gotten far. By your leave,” he inclined his head toward his mother and turned on his heel to go; Nayda had been ‘put to bed’ already without incident.

“Not so fast,” Jasra chided him, “you would only scare the girl further, and the issue of the agency involved here has yet to be clarified to my satisfaction: even if she did call upon the Dreamstone for aid in this – which is undoubtedly the case – how could it summon up proto-Chaosian phenomena?” She walked down the stairs on the right-hand side with purpose, lowering the lines upon which Jareth was suspended, bringing him closer to the flames until they were practically licking at his boots. “For that is what you are, sir: a mere arcane phenomenon, with all the noncorporal nonsense that goes along with it. My power alone is currently all that is sustaining your existence; if you wish to remain as you are, you will give answer for yourself. How do you know that girl? What is she to you, that you battle so hard on her behalf?”

Jareth quietly chuckled, his lips spreading in a slow, knowing grin. “Must you interrogate one such as myself with such stupidly obvious questions?” he openly taunted her. “But I suppose the answer you’re really looking for it that she is currently a paying client, so-to-speak; she merely renegotiated our previous terms just now. I’ll be getting the better end of the contract, though, with two sacrifices for the Logrus instead of just the one I was promised, the second of which I should be able to enjoy myself for a time before the change comes over her.” A wild light danced in his eyes.

“Then I was correct,” Jasra responded, loosening his bonds a bit while keeping him secure, seeing his shoulders shift to a more comfortable position, “but it gets me no further in resolving the incongruity.”

“Perhaps I can,” Rinaldo offered, cautiously joining her below. “If the Dreamstone acts upon the memories and fantasies of the mind that wields it, theoretically it could probably conjure up just about anything – think of what my father told us of Tir-na Nog’th, of the kinds of things I saw up there! I’m not even sure that this fellow is like his ‘real’ counterpart; consider the circumstances, what she needed,” he carefully worded his statement. “We already know that the ‘ghosts’ put forth by the two powers can be altered that way, and be unaware of it themselves. Now, really I should be about tracking her-”

“You shouldn’t,” his mother interrupted him slyly, looking up, “he should. Return to your kingdom in the morning with your charming wife. We have someone here who knows that girl far more intimately, it would seem, someone who can anticipate her actions, her foibles, someone she wouldn’t automatically run from. With my power at his disposal…”

Jareth took his time in answering; he appeared to be sizing Jasra up semi-seriously for perhaps the first time. “You provide some amusing fodder for thought, witch. However, I’ve known any number of sorceresses just like you in the past – not in caliber or luck, but in personality, certainly. Your type is invariably worth a good, satisfying tumble or two, but at the end of the day you’re not worth your own excrement when it comes to more serious matters of trust, on any level. To come to the point, what assurance – if, indeed, any – could you possibly give me, that I might be willing (or capable) of believing, that you won’t pull the plug on me or leave me a lobotomized slave like that pathetic-looking limey of the fiery deeps down below,” he nodded toward the Fount beneath him, “the very moment I’m no longer of immediate use to you? That seems like a terrible amount of legwork on my part for the exact same payoff – and if this is the true case as things stand, then I’d rather save myself the bother and simply get where I’m obviously going to end up anyway.”

“Even I’d find it hard to argue down this guy,” Rinaldo commented appreciatively. “I wouldn’t care to guess at his sanity, but his rational faculties when it comes to himself seem to be intact.”

Jasra considered the matter, taking the opportunity to study her prisoner’s almost lewdly exposed physique through his white breeches. “What would you say if I were to defer the initial… pleasantries of our working relationship to point-of-delivery of the power item and the girl over to me? At which point you may find me highly amenable to… renegotiations of my own.”

“Mother!”

“Please, Rinaldo, I am still perfectly capable of defending my own honor… not that there’s much left to defend these days,” she sighed, sounding tired.

Jareth only smirked. “I’d suspected about as much. I suppose that level of assurance might be granted, depending on your… self-sufficiency in the interim, madam,” he bluntly gave answer.

“Never cared much for that. Call me Jasra.” She motioned, and the suspended figure floated toward them, away from the Fount, until his feet touched the floor. Standing normally, he was probably about her height out of those boots. “What do you say?” she addressed her captive. “I think you comprehend my full terms already. Or would your ideological loyalty to the Logrus serve to prevent you from accepting a secondary, conflicting commission, even with the pot sweetened?”

“Well, given what I have only just learned of my existence, I’m not about to off myself merely to prove a point, especially since I appear to be all dressed up with nowhere to go. Whatever shall I do with myself?” he flirted.

“How refreshingly pragmatic of you, sir,” the sorceress genuinely smiled.

“Jareth,” he finally named himself, nodding in lieu of a bow; he was still stiffly trussed enough that he could barely move. “Guardian of the last Fixed Logrus, what mortals have learned to fear as the Labyrinth.”

Jasra’s smile dropped off her face; she blankly stared at him for a moment. “The Fixed Logrus, you say? You are not of Chaos, then?”

“Ah, vengeful Lady Lust,” he laughed, “you forget yourself already, my dear: I am of nowhere… and I suppose that means she planned on skipping out on paying me as well. A pity,” he rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in distaste with a shake of the head. “Some people simply have no code of honor.”

For a moment as the sorceress saw him in profile, the strangest feeling of familiarity came over her, and it was far greater than the way he was shamelessly coming onto her at present. She had seen his face – or someone very like him – before…