Peter’s Diary part 20: The Awakening pt 2

in Brave New Worlds

The Awakening – New Year’s Day and after 3659 – A new Amber

After speaking to the Puck and to the King, I took it upon myself to find those members of the Blood who were resident in this new Amber. It seemed that the Trump cards were not working, but as I had yet to become as reliant on them as the elders of my family have, I turned instead to walking through streets that were new, and yet somehow familiar.

I found Falasia at the South Gate, and she seemed happy to protect that face of the city from whatever might approach, and Alexander to the north who had applied his troops in a similar fashion, though he was graceful in conversation and promised me aid for the city should I take on the creation of the Militia within the walls. Gerard and Gilgamesh were in the docks and between two such giants a new Navy was being planned, greater than that which had gone before.

Temples abounded in this new world, to Inanna and to Alexander himself; to Mira and to Doppaz Rampant, where I first caught sight of Droppa the Fool. And as I found each member of the Blood in Amber Reborn, I told them of the others, and I told Random of them. He acted quickly, confirming the defences to the north and to the south and making Llewella Magistra Templi – the one role where the disregard of the Amber Princes for their fairer kin seems to lessen.

He commanded me to continue the role of acting sheriff, and I agreed, though I did point out to him that without lands I would have no troops with which to strengthen the Militia should another night of Fog come upon us. He glowered then, and I grinned, for in truth sometimes I forget that I have been in this place for less than two months by the way Amber marks the passing of time. And he called us all together in council, in the banqueting hall of Amber Castle.

Now, the decorations of this room are strange, for on one wall is a painting, unmistakably in the hand of Alaric, whose sacrifice undid the trouble he had caused. And I wondered as to Random’s taste, for he had made no secret of his dislike for Alaric in the past and to see his work hung so prominently was a surprise. But Random gestured to a part of the painting, and I saw there a map of the city as is, not the city as was. And Random was of the opinion that Alaric was so tightly a part of this New Amber that the painting could not be removed, or destroyed.

So using the map of Alaric, I learnt the city of Amber anew. I found the parts of the city where each member of the Blood holds sway and I saw how the boundaries between their demesnes ebb and sway like the tides and, like the tides, have high and low points. And I learnt of the Ebbs themselves, that part of the city in which I felt most at home. And with each hour I spent there, the people and the buildings became more real, until it was as much my home as any place had ever been.

I met Anne, she who had been Alaric’s wife, and she showed me the University, which was as much hers as the Concord Gallery was mine. And then I took her there, and showed her the West Gallery, where the painting of her execution hangs. And we spoke of what it was to be of Amber, and what it was to be an elf, as she kept referring to me.

And so we dreamed Amber into reality and, after a few months, it was as if nothing had ever been any different.

About that time, the cards of the Family started working again and contact between the realms that now existed sprang up anew. And with the Puck’s words weighing heavily on my mind, I took out the deck of cards that Alaric had gifted me and I shuffled them until the card of red-headed Bleys, the one who had been envoy to Faerie.

He answered when I called – I did not know him well enough to know whether he was confident in his ability to defend himself or careless with cards; I now presume the former.

Knowing that he would be my master in the art of the fence, I threw all I had into a flèche – diving at him with no thought of defence in the hopes of scoring a touché before he realised we were in combat. So as soon as he greeted me I said, “The Puck tells me that you are my father, and Titania my mother” and waited to see his reaction.

I made my touché. He stood there, as we were linked mind to mind, plainly flabbergasted. And then he shook his head firmly in denial.

“No,” he said. “Absolutely not.” And the surprise was so great that I knew one of two things. Either he spoke truth, or he was such a consummate actor that I would never see beneath his mask. And my heart fell at that point, so that I could hardly hear his next words. For such is the way of the flèche – by committing all you have to the attack, you sacrifice your defence.

I had been so certain that what the Puck had told me was true that I had forgotten that which every child of Faerie is taught with their mother’s milk. If the Puck tells you a secret, it is because he wants you to know it. And he only wants you to know that which will give him advantage. And any advantage you gain from the knowledge will be dwarfed by the advantage he gains.

And that is what it is to be the Puck, and how he dances both in light and dark, and how he keeps influence in both Courts. For the Puck’s first allegiance is to the Puck.

Bleys did me the courtesy of not laughing in my face, and further the courtesy of a moment to gather my thoughts. And he chose not to press his advantage, to gain from my discomposure. And for that, a favour is owed.

He told me then of secrets of Faerie – not secrets of state, but secrets of adulthood. He told me, as a father may tell a son, of those matters which happen between man and woman, when he and she are of Faerie stock. No rutting like animals when the wish is to procreate. Instead the he and the she come together in conjuration and magic, weaving the dreams of twilight and dawn into a new creature, dark and light, Unseelie and Seelie, male and female. And thus are new creatures of Faerie born; of intent, and of magic, and of art.

Bleys had been warned off of the women of Faerie by his father, Oberon, with harsh words and calumny (and I was suddenly, maliciously happy that when he had appeared to me as the Pattern was destroyed, I had ignored his words, for I was more of Faerie than I was of Amber, and the destruction of his Pattern against his wishes was a little vengeance for the attitude he had bred into his sons).

Bleys believed that none of his brothers, save perhaps Random, would ‘sully themselves’ – and I know from Vialle that Random would not consider it either. And Bleys asked me what were the Puck’s words exactly? For while the Puck would never claim anything that was not exactly true, nor would he phrase it in such a way that it was easily understood.

I cast my mind back to his harsh words – “begotten on a pervert by a usurper”, and with Bleys a light presence in the back of my mind, I saw the trap the Puck had laid, and into which I had fallen. Auberon was the usurper after slaying Dom-Daniel’s heir. Titania was his queen. So my mother was one of the women of Amber, not the men.

Flora? That would make it difficult when time came to kill Rupert. (More difficult, any way.) Fiona? I had seen the fate that befell the scions of the scarlet line, and I wished no part of it. And then my mind cleared, and I remembered the Arrow that was truth.

I must go to Faerie, and I must find she known to Amber as Rhiannon. Or if she be dead, find the tale of her passing.

Resolved, I made my acknowledgements to Bleys, and broke contact.

Absinthe and Abjuration

It became clear over the next couple of months that there were a number of Pattern Realms, each belonging to one of those who had worn a Jewel of power before Amber was destroyed. As we made contact with each other, we started to fence, working out questions of precedence and priority.

We learnt of Absinthe, where Fiona and Bleys now lived, along with Asmark and Aylwin. We learnt of Argent, where Corwin ruled, and Flora and Rupert were his close confidants. And we learnt of Bathsheba’s realm, where werewolves wrestled, dripping in scented oils.

How much this creation of a new reality has shown us of the minds of the creators!

We talked, and negotiated, and came to accord over the need for a Council, that we might see what dangers faced us and what opportunities arose. And while there was much too-ing and fro-ing over the location, eventually we settled on a place called Babylon; a Far Realm like Faerie, but less dangerous (and thus less fun), where several of the Elders of Amber as was had spent much time.

Before we could visit to see that it was suitable, however, Random called upon my services to accompany him to Absinthe, where Aylwin was to re-walk the Pattern and abjure Mira and all her works, and all her empty promises. And hopefully to raise the curse that lies upon him that stops him from that which he most loves, which is Trump. It would be impolitic for us to be at the Ceremony of Abjuration, so Random had manoeuvred so that we would be there for the Pattern Walking afterwards – fashionably (and expediently) late, as he put it.

We arrived outside a great green maze, which was the Pattern of Absinthe, just as the Ceremony of Abjuration was concluding. Morwaith had led the Ceremony, as High Priest of the Unicorn in all the Realms, and Bathsheba was there, like Random, to observe as Ruler of a Realm. We had a little chance to talk, the Princess and I, and we did not spar, for time was short. We agreed that alliances were always possible, and that the Elders were not the only ones who might conspire. And on that understanding, we nodded to each other, and spoke of our mutual respect.

Aylwin and I spoke a little of Faerie, and he told me that he had a trump of Rhiannon, though it did not work. However if she were deep in Faerie, it would behave as Benedict’s did, giving no response even to those who are more puissant than I in the art of the Cards.

And while I was in Absinthe, the ground was laid for the Council of the Realms.