New Amber Trilogy 2 - Chaos and Amber Read online

  "What!" I sat up straighten "He fought Taine?"

  "Years ago. He gave Taine that scar on his cheek."

  "I didn't know that," I said.

  "Is it important?"

  "I don't know." I considered the possibilities. "Why didn't he kill Taine, if he had the chance? If he's got it in for our family, he missed a good opportunity."

  "Maybe he had no reason to kill Taine at the time."

  I mulled it over. It sounded plausible. If they fought their duel before the plot against our family had begun, Ulyanash would have had no reason to kill Taine. A dueling scar to mark his victory would have been enough.

  "Did you see the duel?" I asked.

  "No, but Blaise did. She was there."

  "Of course she was." I sighed. Another dead end, with Blaise off in Shadow, hiding out. She wouldn't be able to tell me anything about Ulyanash's fighting technique.

  Aber went on. "I got all the details from her, though. She said it was a game for Ulyanash. He toyed with Taine for ten minutes, making him lunge and stagger, then swatting him on the ass and making his squeal. By the end of the duel, Taine was gasping for breath, dripping in sweat, and horribly embarrassed. Everyone was laughing at him."

  "Blaise included," I guessed.

  "She said she couldn't help it. Taine looked ridiculous. And Ulyanash… well, he loved every moment."

  I sighed, envisioning the fight. Clearly it hadn't been pleasant for Taine. There had been more than a couple of men in Ilerium's army who liked to show off their skills with a blade by humiliating lesser fighters in our ranks. I had never put up with it… as a common soldier or as an officer.

  "And afterwards?" I prompted. "What happened to Taine?"

  "He slunk off. I guess he couldn't face anyone in the Courts of Chaos after what happened. I haven't seen him since."

  A terrible thought struck me. "Did he leave… or was he kidnapped?"

  "Kidnapped!" Aber stared at me, a shocked expression on his face. "What do you mean?"

  "Think about it," I said, my thoughts reeling through the possibilities. "Suppose someone powerful wanted to capture him and question him about us. And he didn't want anyone in our family to miss him. The duel could have been a ruse, forced on Taine so everyone would think he'd run away. It made his disappearance seem reasonable."

  "And all this time he's been a prisoner?"

  "Yes."

  Aber looked away. Clearly the idea had not occurred to him before. And clearly he did not like it.

  "Well?" I prompted. "What do you think?"

  "It's unbelievable. You're seeing conspiracies where there can't possible be any."

  "I'm not paranoid. People really are trying to kill us—"

  "Okay, okay." He stood and began to pace. "But if someone wants us dead, why start with a kidnapping? Why not force Locke or Davin into a duel… or Dad, for that matter?"

  "I don't know. Maybe they wanted to find out more about us first. Maybe they have been attacking us for years, but subtly. No one realized it because no one knew to look for the signs. We may never know the whole truth."

  He stopped and looked at me. "Let's assume you're right. Let's assume they've held Taine prisoner since the fight."

  "Torturing him, questioning him, and now bleeding him to spy on us. He's been helping them—"

  Aber shook his head. "No. I don't believe it. Taine would never betray us. He has a stubborn streak like you wouldn't believe. I know."

  I considered how defiant our brother had been, even half dead on that altar slab, and conceded the point. No, Taine would not talk—at least, not knowingly.

  "The serpent used his blood to spy on us," I pointed out. "He didn't need to talk."

  Aber nodded. "Magic is sympathetic. Like is drawn to like. That's why the serpent could use Taine's blood. We—you and I, everyone in our family—are all the same in many ways." He paused. "But I still don't understand why anyone would start a war by kidnapping Taine. He was fairly harmless. Nobody really hated him. Why put him through this?"

  "They had to start somewhere," I said. "Maybe Ulyanash considered him the easiest target."

  "Easier than me?" Aber laughed. "I don't think so!"

  "How many duels have you gotten into?" I asked.

  "Well… none." He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not much of a fighter, after all. I'm more of an artist, philosopher, and poet."

  "As I'm sure everyone in court knows."

  "Yes." He nodded. "I've made Trumps for a lot of people… not just family members."

  "But what about Taine? Had he fought duels before?"

  "Yes." Aber sighed unhappily, as if guessing my thoughts. "He had his share of scrapes and misadventures. It didn't come as a huge surprise to anyone when he got into an argument with Ulyanash."

  "Exactly. Ulyanash wouldn't goad you into a duel because you don't fight. He might be stupid, but he knows better than to force a duel with someone like you… someone his peers view as weak and defenseless. There's nothing worse than being thought of as a bully. People would turn their backs on him, even his patron. He's not that stupid."

  Aber's brow furrowed. "So Ulyanash could take his time with Taine, make sport of him, and really rub it in because everyone knew Taine could defend himself."

  "Exactly. It was all in fun, after all. For his trouble, Taine got nothing worse than a scratch on the cheek. The only permanently damage came to his pride. If he couldn't defend himself… well, tough luck, everyone thought."

  Aber was nodding. "Yes, I understand."

  He started to say something more, but at that moment, Captain Neole burst into the room.

  "Lords!" the captain cried. "There has been a murder!"

  NINETEEN

  I leaped to my feet.

  "Who is it?" I demanded. Could it be our father? I glanced at Aber, who gulped, eyes growing wide with alarm.

  "A demon," Neole said. "Someone threw its body over the back wall a few minutes ago—one of the guards saw it fall. By the time he got outside, whoever did it had gone."

  "A demon?"

  I didn't know whether to feel horrified or relieved. At least it wasn't a family member this time.

  Aber, shaking his head, looking distinctly uneasy.

  "What's bothering you about it?" I demanded.

  "Rèalla," he said. "It has to be her. You only saw her human form… but a succubus is a demon. In death, she would have changed back to her true self."

  "But she just left!" I said. It didn't see how it could possible be her. "There wasn't enough time!"

  "We don't know that. If Ulyanash found out…"

  "How could he? You set up those magical tripwires last night. There shouldn't be any more spying."

  "I warned you I wasn't very good at it." He looked uneasy. "Maybe they found a way through or around my spells!"

  I took a sharp breath. It couldn't be Rèalla. And yet… "There's an easy way to settle this," I said. Turning to Neole, I added, "Show us."

  He saluted. "Yes, sir. This way."

  We left through a different door into a strangely desolate garden, filled with twisted, ugly plants the like of which I had never seen. Some bore spiked reddish-orange fruit, and some had nothing but thorns. Among them, moss-covered stones slowly wandered, looking old and tired compared to the ones penned on the other side of the house.

  I kept looking up at the sky. As before, masses of clouds swirled wildly overhead, but this time no lightning flickered.

  Aber caught up and walked beside me. "Spells take time to prepare," he said in answer to my unasked question. Shading his eyes, he stared toward the heavens. "The bigger the spell, the longer the time. That lightning storm must have been taken hours, maybe days to set properly. Whoever made it was lying in wait for you. It won't happen the same way twice."

  "Is that supposed to make me feel safe?" I asked.

  "Well… in a way, yes."

  "It doesn't."

  Captain Neole led us to the back wall, which towered twenty feet
high. Made of yellow stone, it seemed to completely circle the house. Guards patrolled the top now, gazing out over whatever lay beyond.

  Two more guards stood at the base of the wall, next to the body. I swallowed hard as I stared at it. A flat face with jutting cheekbones and round mouth… red eyes staring blankly… hands like claws… skin as dark as old leather… none of it looked familiar. The only thing at all familiar, however, was the pale, shimmering green gown. It matched the one Rèalla had been wearing, and I knew at once that this creature, this demon, had to be her.

  "Not a woman, but definitely female," Captain Neole was saying. Bending, he tilted her head back so we could see her odd features better.

  "Congratulations," I said flatly to Aber. "You got your wish."

  "I'm sorry," Aber said softly. When I looked at his face, he seemed genuinely upset. "I would not wish this on anyone, least of all you."

  Captain Neole said to me, "Do you know this demon, sir?"

  "Yes, I knew her," I said. "Her name was Rèalla. Bury her here, on the grounds, with all appropriate ceremony. She is to be treated with respect. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, sir," he said. He motioned to the two guards, and they picked her up and carried her off around the side of the house, following the wall.

  "We have a mausoleum," Aber said. "That's where they will take her."

  I nodded, feeling cold and numb inside.

  Then I looked up at the wall. It had to be three or four feet thick at the top. Whoever had dumped her here had either thrown her over the wall, flown the body up and over, or sent it over by magical means. None of the options left me feeling very safe at the moment. And thunder rumbled distantly, reminding me of our enemies' power to control the weather.

  "I doubled the patrols immediately," Captain Neole said to me. "Do you have any other instructions, sir?"

  "No. Stay vigilant."

  "Yes, sir."

  "We will be inside. If anything else happens, summon us at once."

  He saluted. I motioned for Aber to follow me and turned toward the house. Head high, I strolled through the twisted garden at a leisurely pace. I had to assume Aber's spells had failed and that our every move was now being observed. Well, let them look! Let them think me unmoved by Rèalla's murder! The creatures of this world seemed to think only of hate and violence and death. First Helda in Ilerium, and now Rèalla here in the Beyond. Our enemies had taken too much from me. It had to stop.

  "Oberon," Aber said from behind me, "I'm sorry."

  "Me too," I whispered.

  I looked up at the seething clouds, then at the sprawling house, which still oozed color from every seam and every crack. At that moment, I knew their deaths would not go unavenged. If I had to make it my life's work, I would find and destroy everyone involved in this conspiracy, from the greatest Lord of Chaos to the least of their minions.

  I sucked in a deep breath, and everything suddenly came clear for me. Bold. Daring. Unexpected. Our mysterious enemy kept making the first move against us. That would change. From now on, we would act instead of react. If Ulyanash and his masters wanted a fight, I would give it to them. And I would win… or die trying.

  "Get your Trumps," I told Aber as soon as we entered the house. "Bring them to the library."

  "Why?"

  "Because," I said, "we're going to be busy. You're going to announce me to all and sundry as Dworkin's new heir, come to the Courts of Chaos to walk the Logrus and claim my birthright."

  "But you can't—"

  "Can't I?"

  He nodded. "It is your right."

  "Play it up. Sell me to them. My name must be on everyone's lips. They must all know who I am before this day is over!"

  "You're insane!" he said, staring at me.

  "Maybe I am." I smiled, lips thin and hard. "First, though, there will be a party for me, hosted by… I don't know. Someone you know and trust."

  "Who?" he demanded.

  "It doesn't matter." I waved my hand grandly. "Pick someone. Anyone. Make sure they accept. Don't take no for an answer."

  "But Dad—"

  "Has nothing to do with this," I interrupted. "I want to be seen tonight by everyone who matters in the Courts of Chaos. I want each and every one of them, from the highest noble to the lowest slave, to know I've arrived here… and that I'm not afraid of them!"

  "This isn't wise."

  "Wise?" I laughed. "If you're afraid to live, you're already dead!"

  "Then I must be dead," he muttered.

  "Oh, no." I seized his arm and propelled him toward the stairs and his room. "You've just awakened, dear brother. We've all been asleep far too long here. I'm not going to sit in this house and wait for death to find me. It's time to move—time to leap feet-first into King Uthor's court. We will renew ourselves… and our family."

  "I don't understand," he said.

  "You don't have to. Leave everything to me. Now, get those Trumps, and be quick about it! We have lots of work to do before the party."

  My enthusiasm seemed to be catching. Taking a deep breath, he bounded up the stairs three at a time.

  We would need new alliances to replace the ones Dad had let slip away. If Ulyanash could do it, why not me? New friends and new allies… yes, I could play this game. And I would win.

  TWENTY

  "You realize," Aber said, "that your plan won't work."

  "Why not?" I asked.

  We sat in the library, surrounded by books and scrolls. He had brought down a large, intricately carved wooden box packed to the top with Trumps, many showing people and places I had never seen before. Most were distant relatives, he assured me—cousins, aunts and uncles, and grandparents from our father's various marriages. Aber had drawn them over the years and squirreled them in his room until needed.

  "Who is this?" I held up a Trump showing a handsome man with moustache and beard. His eyes reminded me of Freda's.

  "Vladius Infenum," he said. "Isadora's grandfather on her mother's side. He's dead, I think."

  "Murdered?"

  "By his wife." He pulled out a different Trump, this one showing a skeletal woman with upturned tusks. "Here, Lady Lanara Doxara de Fenetis. I think she'll do."

  "Who is she?"

  I regarded her image casually, trying not to stare too hard lest I make contact with her. Her small black eyes had a ravenous quality that made me uneasy.

  "Our great-aunt. Dad's mother's oldest sister."

  "That's right—you mentioned her before. She taught you to paint, didn't she?"

  "Yes."

  "Is she well connected?"

  "She used to be," Aber said. "She stopped entertaining a decade or so ago, due to frail health… though I think that was just an excuse. Her guests tended to overstay their welcomes and eat her out of house and home. She's still well remembered at court, and I think retirement has bored her enough that she might well leap at the chance to help you. Family is important to her." He smiled fondly; I could tell he liked her. "She was a great painter in her day, and she used to give me lessons…"

  "I thought Dad was to blame for that."

  "I inherited his talent. Aunt Lan taught me how to use it. She always said I was her favorite nephew. Dad would more happily have drowned me than taught me anything."

  "She sounds ideal for our purposes," I said, changing the subject before he could complain about our father. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Go ahead and ask her."

  This just might work. There would be a certain novelty value in dragging an aging Lady back into the social light. People who might normally pass on such an invitation—especially to launch someone unknown into society—would attend just to see her.

  He picked up the card, moved to the far side of the room, and stared at it. Over his shoulder, I saw the old woman's picture ripple and start to move. Her hair whitened; her tusks yellowed, and her skin grew as wrinkled as a raisin.

  "Aunt Lan!" he said. "It's your nephew, Aber. May I visit you for a few minutes?"


  She replied with something I couldn't quite catch, and as I watched, he reached toward her image. In the wink of an eye he disappeared, taking the card with him.

  I sat impatiently, hoping it wouldn't take long. I had a feeling our enemies wouldn't be sitting around waiting for us to move. Finally, after perhaps ten minutes, I felt a nagging at the back of my mind and knew someone was trying to reach me via a Trump. It had to be Aber. Opening my thoughts, I looked up.

  An image appeared before me, only it wasn't my brother. It was Great Aunt Lanara herself, dressed all in black, regarding me with those dark and hungry eyes set deep in that much-wrinkled face. Her upturned tusks, if anything, had grown longer since Aber had painted her.

  "So you are Oberon," she said. Her lightly accented voice held a mild quaver. Slowly her gaze traveled down to my boots and back up again. She seemed to be looking through me to my soul, and I found her scrutiny made me distinctly uneasy. I tried not to show it.

  "That's right," I said. I folded my arms and returned her frank stare. "I'm pleased to finally meet you. Aber speaks very highly of you and your work."

  "My… work?"

  "Your paintings."

  "He is a good boy." She smiled, lips pulling back in an awful rictus. "He informs me of your own ambitions in court, and that you need an introduction into society. He says you aspire to greatness and wish to be known in the Courts, to wield power and influence as, in fact, I once did."

  "As you still do," I said politely. "Or we would not have come to you."

  Turning her head slightly, she addressed someone I couldn't see:

  "You were right. I rather like him." I assumed she spoke to Aber.

  "I knew you would," came the reply. "He's clearly the prize of Dad's offspring."

  She turned back to me.

  "Tell me two things first, and tell me honestly. I will know if you are lying. If I like your answers, I will do more than you have asked. Much more."

  "Very well." I regarded her impassively. "I will answer truthfully."

  "Who is your mother?"

  "My mother was a woman from a Shadow world. Her name was Eilea Santise, if that is important to you."