[Deirdre]
Deirdre rose to her full six foot two height, and ensured the Worldgate was safely closed, dark and honeyed music singing sadly from her lips. She instantly became perfectly dry, warmth bursting around her, and she glanced at Laurel and dried her also. She raised her eyebrows at Golan, her dark blue eyes questioning as her midnight hair suddenly grew longer, to brush around her shoulders in a cascading fall of ebony night. Pearls chains held it back, along with silver dolphin combs. Within the depths of her eyes, silver stars whirled, new-born and rising. Her clothes shifted rapidly around her slender frame into a long court gown of purest black velvet, sparkling with iridescent rainbow colours, and her silver dolphin pendant hung below the hollow of her alabaster throat. She wore dark slippers, and a pair of whitegold spectacles perched on her small freckled nose. Silver rings glinted on her fingers.
"Well, that did not work according to plan, forgot about the water pressure differential. Worked well enough. Everyone all right and all memories intact?", she asked quietly. She considered Laurel thoughtfully. "Go ahead and hate me if you wish, daughter.", she whispered in enormous sadness. "Better that than watching your mind messed with. I have no trust in goodness anymore."
She withdrew a brooch, unformed and unshaped, from her pocket. "What is your personal symbol these days?", she asked as she flicked her fingers at Laurel's old pendant and it simply dissolved into nowhere. "Refuse me if you wish. Golan, upstairs first, yes, to the Library for full Trumps? Teridias will be in touch with me shortly. Perhaps then we can start sorting things out."
[Laurel]
Laurel's anger visibly fades, as she realises who had pulled her away from her daughter, and why.
"That was her pain talking, Mom. She thinks I'd abandoned her all these years. I need to explain it to her. And hope she'll understand".
"But it's going to be so much harder now. I'd no sooner promised not to leave her again, than I was whisked away. But I have to try to explain, somehow".
Accepting the brooch that her mother offers, she says "My symbol is a silver hand mirror, with gold filigree edging".
"I'll go and get that gown you made for me, from my rooms" she continues. "I've already got a full trump deck from the library".
On a sudden thought, she asks "Mom, do you have a trump for Meredith? Mine got left behind at Lady Nin's. Which reminds me, do you know anything about her? Is she as dangerous as Uncle Brand suggested?".
[Deirdre]
Deirdre smiled sadly at the other two, her sharp and lovely face very young and haunted with fresh pain and ancient regrets. "Do you truly wish to return to Meredith, Lori? I understand, but I am very much afraid that she has chosen her doom, love, or been forced into her doom by another. Dworkin never made a trump for her... and now perhaps we know why.", she said quietly. "My trumps were lost in shadow, a thousand years ago."
"My intention was to open a gate and let you choose. Do not want to let you go... but I will if you insist, for this is your choice to make. Only hope that you will not regret your choice, but whichever way you choose... you will. Life is like that." She swallowed gently. "Fly free. I will teleport you back there."
Deirdre took Laurels hand and pricked her finger, allowed a single drop of her daughters blood to drop onto the brooch, and then healed the hurt with a simple touch. She held the brooch tightly in her hands for a few moments, whitegold light dancing between her fingers, and she opened her hands to reveal the brooch transformed into a representation of a silver hand mirror with golden filigree leaves engraved on the edges. The mirror did not reflect, instead being solid silver and shimmering as though made of congealed water. She gently handed it to Laurel, and then she turned to the other member of their little group.
"Golan, please forgive my daughter for ignoring you... she is a little distracted just now. Understandable. We had best go to the library for trumps, I feel, and stop off on the way. Say differently if you have a better plan, hon."
[Golan]
"I'm following your lead here. The trumps sound like a very good idea.", Golan considers. "Maybe I should try abjuring a set and holding them in a pocket within me. Less chance of losing them like I've lost every trump I've held thus far..."
[Deirdre]
Deirdre led the way through the castle of Amber, destroying each mirror she came across with measured storms of whitegold fire as she walked gracefully along the corridors, each foot placed carefully in front of the other with calm and serene precision. She changed her slippers for white sandals as she walked, her braided midnight hair swaying down to her slender waist in an ebony waterfall bound only by chains of pearls and silver dolphin combs, the long sleeves of her court gown swishing in time with her dark velvet skirts.
[Golan]
Not wanting to be out of place, he shifted his clothing into a more courtly look. A tabard and white long shirt, loose blue pantaloons and knee high boots. His rapier sheathed at his side.
[Deirdre]
Once at Laurel's rooms, she waited patiently as Laurel changed, and then prepared to teleport her daughter back to the precise location in Rebma which the group had previously left. "Meredith is extremely dangerous, so please be careful. I know nothing about Lady Nin, but I know only too well what Meredith may be capable of, with her Serpent Venom and possible infection. Be careful. Remember that I love you both, and be careful with Merri. Spent too many years trying to reach my sister to have any faith left that you will reach her, but you have to try, I know. Be careful.", were her final words to her daughter, her face and posture strained with worry, fear, and terrible grief.
[Laurel]
An anguished grimace on her face, Laurel says "I *want* to be with her, Mom. She needs me, I know she does". With a sigh, she continues "But there are other things need doing too. Dammit, mother, why did you have raise me with such a sense of duty to Amber? Why? It's not FAIR! My little girl needs me, but I can't go to her. Because bloody Amber needs me too".
[Deirdre]
Deirdre calmed down and stood in silence as she listened to Laurel speak, her midnight blue eyes sad and serene in her sharp white face, her braided midnight hair falling down her back in a wave of white pearls and silver dolphins. "Lori, life is not fair.", she answered finally, her quiet voice choked with dark honeyed sadness from her wide and generous mouth. Her hands hung by her side, her fingers clenched around white knuckles, barely visible within the black sleeves of her velvet court gown. She reached up and gently stroked her own pendant, silver dolphins and golden topaz sparkling underneath her fingertips.
[Laurel]
A wistful smile crosses Laurel's face, as she gently whispers "I know, Mom. I know".
After a brief pause, as she gathers her emotions, she continues "I will go to Merri. But not yet. For the moment, I will help with what needs to be done for Amber".
Turning to Golan, Laurel says "Please accept my apologies, sir. I did not mean to ignore you. As mother says, I am somewhat distracted at the moment".
[Laurel]
In her rooms, Laurel exchanges her chain mail for the gown her mother had given her, pinning her new brooch above her left breast. Removing the ribbon from her hair, she quickly rearranges it, holding it in place with a silver comb. Finally. she straightens her choker, re-centring the gem over her throat.
[Deirdre]
"That would work better as an amulet. Picture it as an amulet in your mind and command it to be one, so that when the coldness comes you will feel it above your heart.", she continued quietly as she walked softly on white sandals over to the window of her daughters apartments, her dark skirts swirling gracefully around her legs, white as snow. "The magics will listen to you.
[Laurel]
Laurel does as Deirdre suggests, taking the opportunity to study the amulet as she does so.
[Deirdre]
"Perhaps you could venture to Rebma from the Library, in trump with me for safety."
[Laurel]
"If we can spare the time, Mom. If we can spare the time, I think I'd like to do that".
[Laurel]
"So" she says simply, "to the library, then?".
[Deirdre]
"To the Library. Would you like a new colour for your gown? Black does suit you, with your platinum hair, but it is not your colour.", answered Deirdre softly. She turned and walked gracefully through the door and along the corridors, her sharp white face serene and her sandalled feet precisely placed on the stones of the castle floor. Only the tense, strained lines around her mouth betrayed her as she gently opened the door to the library and peered into the gloom. She shaped a globe of whitegold light out of nowhere and set it to hovering above one of her bare shoulders with a flick of her fingers.
[Laurel]
"Good idea, Mom. I'll get working on it".
As they walk towards the library, Laurel begins to gently manipulate the substance of the gown, using her Conjuration, slowly lightening the colour of the gown towards a sky-blue colour, matching her eyes, while retaining the qualities of the garment. She adds a delicate silver embroidery to the hem and neckline.
[Golan]
Though he's continued to be quiet as a ghost while with them, Golan follows them down the halls and into the Library itself. All the while he's been here he could feel a little bit of himself being burnt away. The Pattern always did that to the things he quickconjured. Like dry ice, they fizzed off into nothingness so he replaced most of them with the slower conjured things as they moved --using his own AIR shield shaped like his outer clothing to prevent a misunderstanding...
[GM]
When you reach the Library, you see Brand sitting in mid-air, watching you as you enter. "Greetings, family members. As you are no doubt aware, there are certain things that need repairing around here. While the rest of the family is out in the Golden Circle fighting Guisels, I've been figuring out some things, and I have come to a very startling conclusion."
He flips upside down and 'stands', his hair falling towards the floor. "Before any of you get trigger happy, you ought to listen.
[Golan]
Entering the Library and seeing Brand --of all people-- especially as he is floating and such, Golan instinctively goes completely unsolid into AIR form. Not an attack stance, but a more flexible form for his own choice of actions. His just conjured clothes and accoutre slip to the floor into a rumpled pile.
[Laurel]
On seeing Brand, Laurel gives him a warm smile, saying "Uncle Brand. How nice to see you again".
[GM]
"Laurie darling. You're looking as resplendent as ever. Maybe when this whole thing is through, I'll take you to my favourite Shadow restaurant."
[Laurel]
Thank you, Uncle, I should like that very much" replies Laurel.
[GM]
"This entire Infection ruse is simply a test by our beloved progenitor, His Royal Majesty King Oberon. All the clues point towards his manipulation of Corwin and Darthene... and this is a test to see which among them deserves the Crown of Amber. And I must say, both of them are doing a terrible job.
"Oberon incited Corwin and Darthene to fight, using a chess game to begin and escalate the conflict. The waves that you speak of are the opening, the middle game and the end game... not truly independent of each other. All this to determine who has the power to truly rule: winner takes the Throne.
"Yet our idiotic siblings insist on escalating the conflict, even to the point of threatening Amber's destruction. I contend that it is part of Oberon's test, and both have failed. Thus, the only way to settle this is to end the game, the war began in Avalon and culminating in the Third Wave, the fight between brother and sister. Death of one will do it; other ways, such as imprisonment of both, could also do it. Or, we could ask them to call it a draw, and hope that everything will be restored.
"But here is my true suggestion. They've escalated the game to such heights that they have forgotten that it is only a game. I propose that we gather them here, and make them agree (willingly or not) to play the game at a much more simplistic level. Say, a dart game, or what have you. Yet we will monitor them closely, and make sure that the game is fair. Then, everything will be settled. I would appreciate your help in all this."
[Laurel]
Laurel listens attentively to his commentary on the infection, and the contest between Corwin and Darthene. "Darthene has theorised that the chessboard is somehow influencing them both" she adds, as Brand concludes his speech. "And that the situation might be resolved if we can gain possession of the board, and neutralise it's effects. Of course, that might be her way of rationalising her behaviour in this contest", she muses.
[GM]
Brand nods. "The Game is important, not constituency of the apparatus."
[Deirdre]
Silently, Deirdre walked gracefully across to the trump case and removed two decks from therein, quickly hiding them up her sleeves. The whitegold light above her bare shoulder followed her liquid, gracefully birdlike movements. She carefully turned back to Brand and tilted her head to one side to thoughtfully consider him, listening carefully to his speech. She did not seem surprised to see him, not even remotely, as though she had expected someone.
"Golan, Laurel... my brother, prince Brand. Interesting, Brand. I find it more likely that the former Guisel Queen is attempting to resurrect herself through the medium of Corwin and Darthene's silly feud. Perhaps your trump explosion woke her up, and she is attempting to rejoin herself.", she finally answered her brother softly. "Though your theory would explain father's silence on the whole matter. We seem to be in agreement that Corwin and Darthene have both gone too far, and they threaten Amber itself."
She thoughtfully tapped her lips with one finger, her midnight eyes serene and filled with remote sadness. Silver stars sparkled there in the night behind her whitegold spectacles. "Maybe father is taking advantage of the present situation to test them both for the throne and see how far they will pursue their absolute insanity. Which implies that he would be willing to accept my renunciation of the throne in perpetuity. Good." She glanced at one of the cushioned chairs, which promptly moved itself behind her. She settled herself into the soft cushions as her whitegold light shone gently above her, her back to the stone walls, positioned so that she could watch both doors and windows.
[Laurel]
Listening to her mother's reply to Brand, Laurel smiles slightly at Deirdre's mention of her renunciation of the throne.
[Deirdre]
"Brand, your suggestion has merit. They threaten Amber, and so they must be stopped, by any means necessary. What did you have in mind as a means of forcing them to listen? I have already tried to speak with Darthene, with the usual mistakes.", she finished quietly, her faint voice filled with honeyed sadness as she steepled her fingers in front of her, silver rings glinting in the whitegold light. "I would prefer not to see either of them die. Were you aware that Darthene has transformed my granddaughter into the Guisel Queen? Laurel wishes to return to Rebma and convince her daughter to turn aside."
[GM]
"Pawns and pieces don't concern me, sister. I'm more interested in the game and the players. Finish their game and the pieces may be returned to their original forms, hopefully. Make them listen by finding an impartial arbiter... in a neutral place. Say here. I would suggest the child Urda as a choice... given his powers, though he knows not how to use them, makes him a perfect arbiter and lure."
[Laurel]
As Brand continues, a startled look of pain and disappointment crosses her face. "Pawns, and pieces in a game?" she repeats. "Is that all that we mean to you, Uncle I had thought..." she trails off, perhaps seeing her uncle in a new light.
[GM]
"You misunderstand. To Darthene and Corwin, all WE are is pieces and pawns, and they manipulate us to their own ends.... or to Oberon's ends. I wish to target the players themselves to stop this infighting."
[Laurel]
"Oh, I see..." she replies, uncertainly.
[Laurel]
Finally, she turns to her mother. "Perhaps Uncle Corwin would listen to you, Mom. He's always seemed to be fond of you. Maybe you could persuade him to listen to Brand's plan, while someone else talks to Darthene".
[Deirdre]
Deirdre listened carefully as Brand spoke. "Pawns and pieces. I see.", she finally answered softly, the ancient sadness in her eyes deepening visibly. "Unfortunately, Urda is deeply traumatised due to a recent incident, and is likely to be far too emotionally unstable."
She paused delicately, and folded her hands into her lap as she stared serenely at her brother. "Darthene and Corwin are unlikely to listen to your plan, in my opinion. Do you have another? Or should I continue with my own plans?", she asked quietly. She fell into silence and waited patiently.
[GM]
"You seem prejudiced against your siblings. I admit I hadn't the chance to really know Darthene, but Eric's always spoken highly of her, and I am certain she would be willing to listen. Otherwise, we shall have to place bounties on both Corwin and Darthene... they jeopardise Amber."
[Deirdre]
"Do I?", answered Deirdre softly, her face full of terrible sadness. "Perhaps that is part of the problem. Always assume the absolute worst. Usually it turns out to be true." She thought deeply for a while, as Brand replied to Laurel, and then said firmly, "Right. We shall attempt your plan, Brand, though your choice of impartial representative is impossible. We shall have to choose another. I cannot speak for Laurel or Golan, but my suggestion for impartial judge is... Oberon himself. Who better?"
[Golan]
"Laurel, Deirdre. How do you know that *is* Brand?", his somewhat (okay, very much) disembodied voice asks. With that, Golan's cloud column moves to where Deirdre stopped and grabs for a trump deck in the case as she checked it. The trumps fan wide in the air shell 'hand' holding them --sorting down the line to Brand's own trump.
[Laurel]
"An interesting point, Golan" replies Laurel. "But equally, how do we know that you are Golan? How do you know that we are who we seem to be?"
"And how do you know that that is truly Brand's trump - it could have been substituted before we arrived, you know".
[Golan]
"Uncle. We've been attacked by T'yigas recently. I even have one captured within the snowsphere there. Allow me the contact for a moment please, that I may be sure that body is not a vessel for their interference."
Golan reaches out a ghostly hand to touch Deirdre as well, then concentrates on the Brand trump.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre let her hands fall, and carefully drew her serenity around her like a wall of glass. She thoughtfully considered Brand for a few moments more, her midnight eyes quenched and dark behind her whitegold spectacles, silver stars faded away into true midnight blue. "Corwin only ever loved my face, Lori.", she answered her daughter softly. "But I will call him. Golan, be careful."
She rose slowly, and smoothed her skirts out, the whitegold light hovering above her white shoulder shimmering down and glinting through the white pearls which shone like stars in the midnight darkness of her braided hair. She walked gracefully across to the rumpled pile of clothes and caught up the snowsphere, followed by her whitegold light, dancing softly through the air above her.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre suddenly lost interest in the conversation. She stared into nowhere, her eyes filled with sadness and horror. "Truth. My sister was right about me.", she whispered softly, as though to herself alone. "Another chance gone forever, too late, too late... even Summer dead now. Oh, mother, why did you have to die so soon? Betrayed even you." She looked old and utterly broken, despite the ageless youth of her sharp, lovely face, and she hid her eyes behind her hands.
[Laurel]
A look of concern on her face, Laurel moves close to her mother. When the trump call ends (assuming that is what it is), she gently takes hold of Deirdre's shoulders, softly asking "What's wrong, Mom? What's happened?".
[Deirdre]
Deirdre was shaking slightly as Laurel touched her bare shoulders, her white skin soft and warm under her daughters hands. "My life.", Deirdre whispered quietly, her voice sad and broken. "Only my life." She let her hands fall softly from her eyes onto her daughters hands and squeezed them gently as she slowly rose from her chair. She walked across gracefully and obtained the snowsphere.
[Laurel]
Laurel watches sadly as Deirdre retrieves the snowsphere, a feeling of helplessness washes over her. It clearly hurts to see her mother in this mood, and not be able to help.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre walked back to the chair she had left, carrying the snowsphere with her. She reached out a hand to touch Golan's outstretched one, and squeezed her daughters shoulder as she sat down into the soft cushions. She stared down into the crystalline depths of the snow, her face still haunted with sadness.
[GM]
Brand laughs. "Dad impartial? Hah! Better to pick Caine than Oberon. Why do you think he set the two of them on this self-destructive course? He couldn't care less if they killed each other; there's impartiality for you. With him arbitrating we might as well murder Corwin and Darthene now to save the trouble."
[Deirdre]
Deirdre raised her eyes from the crystal sphere of snow which she held gently in her slender hands. She stared thoughtfully at Brand, her sharp and whitely translucent face serene above the darkness of her shoulderless velvet dress.
"That is impartial. Our father simply does not care, one way or the other. What else does impartiality consist of, brother?", she asked quietly. "They live... he does not care. They die... he does not care. They chose to play the game."
She reached up and touched her throat softly, her face haunted with sadness. "They chose.", she repeated quietly. "They have to live with the consequences of their choices. Like everyone. Oberon would judge them fairly, Brand."
She smiled sadly. "That is, after all, the whole point of your theory."
[GM]
"But you see, Oberon is ALREADY judging them in his inimicable way with this Game of his. We might as well do nothing if we pick Obie as the arbiter."
[Deirdre]
Deirdre peered sharply at Brand through her whitegold spectacles. "Obie?", she answered thoughtfully. "My. Oberon is not judging them directly, Brand, they are doing that themselves, and they are showing precisely how childish they are. Though admittedly I am not much better when around them."
She paused delicately. "What makes you think Caine would be any better? Why not make our fathers judgement official instead of secretive? Though perhaps you are right, and Oberon would simply make things worse. Difficult to say." She fell into silence, obviously very deep in thought.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre cradled the snowsphere gently in her lap, wove shadowed trails of whitegold light around it, and then spoke quietly. "Golan, I do not speak the language. Coded. Can still obtain the information we need... but I would have to kill it." She leaned her head wearily against the soft cushions of her chair. "Brand, answer my question. What makes you think Caine would be any better?"
[GM]
"You could trust Caine. Yup, good old Caine... impartial to the last. My pick of a brother if I could pick. No fool he."
[Deirdre]
Deirdre considered her brother thoughtfully through her whitegold spectacles. "Maybe I could trust Caine. I do not know.", she answered quietly. "Though I do agree that he is not a fool. He is simply human... like the rest of us."
[Golan]
"Then let it lie for now. There are other things afoot.", Golan is distracted, seeming more interested in little whorls of dust near his feet. The vortex swells and pulses in a staccato rhythm. Then it fades to a little swirl and leaves the room.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre stared at her daughter through ancient, wounded eyes, her whitegold spectacles glinting in the light of the globe above her. "Life is not fair, Lori. Life is never fair, even for little demons.", she whispered softly. "Hold my hand?" She waited patiently, haunted sadness on her sharply carved face, her generous mouth drooping at the corners below her small freckled nose.
[Laurel]
Laurel kneels at her mother's feet, taking one hand in hers, reaching up with her other hand she gently cups Deirdre's cheek. "I'm her, Mom" she says softly.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre squeezed her daughters hand gently. "Sometimes you cannot win, Lori.", she whispered quietly. "Sometimes things get tangled up beyond help. Wish we had the time to really talk... one of us might die soon. Too late."
She turned her attention back to the snowsphere, midnight blue eyes gazing downwards sadly. "Think I have found a way to get the information we need without murder. Teach the demon to speak Thari." She frowned in concentration.
[GM]
Brand says, "Your logic is flawed. You assume first of all that it does not speak Thari; that it cares to speak to you if it learns it; that it is capable of learning language; that you have time to teach it. Give it to me and I'll have your information for you the easy way." He smacks his lips.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre did not answer her brother, her attention concentrated on the snowsphere. Beads of sweat on her face, her whole posture became tense.
[Laurel]
Laurel remains kneeling at Deirdre's feet, holding her hand, warily eyeing Brand. With every sentence he utters, he seems further from the favourite uncle she remembers. His millennium of captivity has evidently had a dark effect on him. Sadly, she wonders if he will ever again be the old Brand she remembers.
[Golan]
His face begins to redden in anger, but he takes a deep breath instead of thundering. In a calm, though tense voice he speaks. "Uncle Brand, Deirdre, Laurel. My cohorts have informed me there is an intruder in the basement who is known to me. Its the lightning aligned version of myself created when the timeflows split. I'd have thought he'd be gone with that reality but there it is. A Golan made of electricity, and somehow linked to the mirror-world I think.", Golan looks up now, "And, he has Smoke captured within that realm."
[Deirdre]
Deirdre looked up sharply as Golan spoke. "Another time, little one.", she murmured to the sphere as she pushed it calmly into her middle, where it sank away and disappeared within her flesh in a ripple of shifting whitegold fire.
"Brand, your suggestion still greatly interests me, but perhaps more information could be gained on precisely what we face downstairs. What we need right now is information, so that any choices we make are informed ones."
She squeezed her daughters hand and let go sadly. She whispered something quietly to her as she rose to her feet and gently smoothed her velvet skirt out around her knees, arranging her gown carefully on her hips.
[Deirdre]
"Sounds as though this is related to the mirrors, and Smoke is a friend.", whispered Deirdre quietly. "Will you come with us, or would you rather go to Rebma? My offer stands, love."
[Laurel]
With a heartfelt sigh, Laurel tells her mother "I'm with you and Golan, Mom. It sounds that Smoke's danger is more imminent than Merri's, so takes precedence. I only hope that... I can explain that to Merri someday".
Laurel also rises, and follows Golan.
[GM]
Deirdre suddenly changes in attitude and shape. She takes on the form of Liandra... her face is heart-shaped, her hair raven and long.
"Brand.... I am the Ty'iga" she says. "I understand you are having difficulties dealing with my Opposite, the Guisel. I will offer you my help to free your daughter, Laurel. However, for the nonce I will be using this body."
[Laurel]
A startled cry, "Mom?" escapes Laurel's lips. Recovering, she eyes the Ty'iga suspiciously. "No decision has yet been made on whether to free my daughter" she replies. "Until such time as it is, I must decline your offer of help. That decision is Meredith's to make, not yours".
[Golan]
"Deirdre, I have what I came for but I could use your help. Laurel, if you were half the woman your mother is, I'd welcome your aid as well. But I'd understand if you want to see to your daughter.", turns, "Uncle Brand. There's precious little in shadow or Ambrium that could shock you --no doubt-- but this guy just might. Knowing your dislikes of unknowns, I hope that curiosity might prod you to coming as well."
[Laurel]
With an anguished sigh, Laurel replies "I do want to see Meredith, there is too much I need to explain to her. But she was in no danger, or forced captivity, when last I saw her. Your... friend?, Smoke, apparently is held in captivity against her will".
Turning to the usurper occupying Deirdre's body, she asks "Will you aid us in this endeavour, Ty'iga?".
[GM]
"Golan, I must reject your offer... I must see the Game between Corwin and Darthene ended first. Good luck finding your friend," says Brand.
[Golan]
With that, Golan swept from the room , back along their original trail downstairs --skipping the side trip to Laurel's rooms. As he moved, the airflows behind him surged as other presence's flowed in and merged for short periods and his wake formed the great cloak shape of Cloakus once again.
[GM]
The Ty'iga, saying its piece, offers this: "IF you need to summon me, and enlist my aid, simply command the drone you possess. I will manifest in whomever is convenient at the moment. I will release Deirdre from her nightmare forthwith."
[GM]
Deirdre snaps back to reality from her little nightmare.
Brand waves goodbye, as you two follow Golan to the basement, where the Pattern is.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre waved goodbye back, and tried to smile.
[Laurel]
"Are you okay, Mom. That Ty'iga had me worried for a minute".
As they follow Golan, Laurel asks "Who is Smoke, Mom?"
[Golan]
Golan's wake becomes the wings of the Cloakus like cloak of his form. Fully AIR, except for a hard bubble that surrounds the trumps, he passes over and around obstacles large and small. As he moves he gathers in the aether and nether, the air spirits and their kind.
//Brothers/come!/Heed my call/Smoke/to/rescue/down/we/go//, his flurry surges as they come to him, some before and some after. //Blow ye fierce/Speak thy ire/Let/the/not me/tremble/in/fear/ For/he/who/took/and/holds/my/friend/will/suffer/my/anger's/GALE!//
[Golan]
The basement. The place where he regained his body, on the Pattern underneath the castle itself. That must be where they meant.
Golan remembered the long way down following Benedict. Like a descent into hell itself. He wouldn't talk, wouldn't even acknowledge him until he'd stood in front of the Pattern and told him how it would either vindicate him or destroy him...
The electrical Golan must be about to assay the Pattern, or already had. Either way, there was nothing left to do but follow. ::I have to know where he's taken Smoke. Have to get her back, safe.:: these thoughts whistled through him as he moved downward.
Once the way opened up, the long stairway down with a precipice on one side and wall to the other, Golan took flight outward and downward --ignoring the stairs themselves and going directly to the bottom. Creating his own luminance would be easy, but instead he shifted his vision into a mode that detected the currents of AIR and heat, trying to determine if his other had passed that way as well.
Golan let the elementals direct him somewhat, following their lead now to be sure that this was where the other was. //Where?/Seek/Tell//
{For simplicity's sake, if Golan finds the Pattern room empty he will -- after checking the room out thoroughly -- assay the Pattern himself with the AIR envelope wrapped close upon himself....
[GM]
As you open the door to the Pattern Room, you see an electrical Golan briefly, but then he disappears from the centre of the Pattern, leaving the Pattern room empty. The Pattern looks slightly different... with its tracery mapped out in reflective glass rather than silver. Do you intend to walk this Pattern?
[Deirdre]
Deirdre followed her daughter numbly. "What happened?", she asked dazedly.
[Laurel]
"When you looked into that snowsphere, a Ty'iga took control of your body, Mom. It offered to help me to free Merri from its ancient enemy, the Guisel. And that if we need its help, we should summon it using the drone we possess. I guess that means the snowsphere".
[Deirdre]
Deirdre walked gracefully after her daughter down to the Pattern. She mostly kept her silence, her sharp and lovely face shocked and numb, her midnight blue eyes wide and very vulnerable. She placed each whitely sandalled foot with careful precision as though the world might break if she stepped wrongly.
[Laurel]
Noting her mother's unsteadiness, Laurel gently lends her support as they proceed.
[Deirdre]
She paused only briefly to throw up at the top of the staircase, and then wiped her lips with her palm, the whitegold light of her sphere shining down on her pale shoulders and waterfall of dark hair. She pushed her whitegold spectacles higher on her small nose and produced the Ty'iga snowsphere from within herself.
She tied it up into a small bundle with a scarf of white silk, and then with shaking fingers tied the scarf around her slender waist. She carefully checked the silver combs and chains of pearls in her midnight hair and tugged the silver leaves of her dark velvet bodice up towards her silver dolphin pendant.
When she finally strode into the grotto of the Pattern, she walked with that same terrible precision across to stare downwards at the glass traceries which now made the sign of power. She finally whispered, "Artificial fusion of Pattern and Paradox.", her soft speech cracked and hoarse. She kept her distance.
[Laurel]
"Is it safe, in that state, do you think?" murmurs Laurel to Deirdre and Golan. "To walk or to use, I mean".
[Deirdre]
Deirdre fell to her knees a few yards from the glass traceries in the floor. Curling her sandalled feet up underneath her, she stared at Laurel and Golan, her haunted midnight blue eyes searching their faces through her whitegold spectacles as though memorising them. Her sad, regretful gaze lingered on Golan, and then she looked away, towards the air in front of her. She seemed very vulnerable and young, until she began to sing and her terrible rage burned through clearly. She took her spectacles off and let them drop onto the floor.
"By my blood, by the anguished horror of my violated mind, I curse those who have learned my secrets against my will to be unable to communicate them to others. I curse them with the agony of helpless humanity and vulnerability.", she sang fiercely, ferocious intensity burning in her eyes. She raised her slender hands in supplication towards the air in front of her, as she sang her curse in dark tones of molten honey, firm and clear with no sign of hesitation.
"I curse them to forever forget all the knowledge which was raped from me, to forget who they are, and wander through the worlds in endless misery and horrific anguish. Until the day they have learned their lesson and received my forgiveness, these curses will damn them, and they shall know the full horror of being helpless before those larger than them. Even then they shall never remember my stolen secrets, or the stolen secrets of those who have trusted me. For I was blind... and now I see."
Deirdre burned her own eyes away, whitegold fire eating into her flesh in a terrible sizzling sound. She screamed hoarsely as the stink of her charred flesh and salty blood filled the cavern. She lowered her hands from the shattered ruin of her eyes, horrific blisters already forming and popping into blood, streaming down the sides of her sharply carved face. She roughly popped the rest of her blisters with her fingers, shakily turned her spectacles into a towel of black linen, and tied it around her head to conceal herself.
Deirdre seemed to be crying tears of pure blood as she slowly rose to her feet. "Smoke now.", she whispered quietly. "Save Smoke." Her clothes rippled around her tall, slim frame, rainbow colours shifting within the midnight darkness as her sandals elongated and enfolded her feet in boots. Her skirt split in two and became a pair of dark silk trousers, tucked in the tops of her boots, and her bodice shifted colours and became a white silk shirt. She carefully buttoned the whitegold dolphin buttons of her great overcoat. As the pearls and combs faded from her tumbling midnight hair, she began to carefully fashion a braid, her uncertain fingers shaking and smeared with her own blood.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre finished her braid, and slung it back over her shoulder with casual contempt. "On second thoughts, you will both be better off without me, or any of the horror. Thankyou for loving me anyway, if you did.", she whispered quietly.
"My sister has cursed me. Empress Avalon was her name once. Save Smoke... and don't worry about me. I'm going to die now. Farewell... love you both. Tell your father I loved him too, Lori, but love is simply not enough."
She sounded old, bitter, and utterly without hope as she vanished into nowhere like a whitegold candle flame, simply gone as though she had never been. Seagulls cried briefly as she went, haunted with terrible despair.
[Laurel]
Laurel looks on, horrified, as her mother sings her curse and mutilates herself. Reaching out, she tries to take hold of Deirdre's shoulders, screaming "Stop it, Mom! What are you doing? Tell us what's going on, Mom".
[GM]
Laurel can definitely catch Deirdre before she vanishes.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre, her transport spell disrupted by her daughter, did not fight. There was no passion left in her, no strength, no steely determination to keep going no matter what. "Secrets had to be preserved, sweet Laurel, and my pain demanded expression.", she whispered brokenly. "Secrets told to me by Celia about the future. Secrets told to me by Lir about the mirrors. Secrets told to me by Jacob about himself. Secrets told to me by Golan about himself. Secrets had to be preserved... and I used the only means I knew. Betraying trust hurts far more than burning your eyes out."
She took a deep breath. "Did not know my curse would reverberate down the twinbond and destroy Dar's eyes... she cursed me. I deserve whatever she has cursed me with." She still seemed utterly broken, defeated, hopeless, her dark and honey sweet voice still full of darkest despair and the horror of what she had done. "So that's it. We only ever assume the worst of one another, only ever hurt each other... that's it. I want to sleep forever, so I won't hurt anyone nomore. Only ever hurt people. Hurt your father. Hurt Golan. Hurt you... taught you to love Amber more than your own daughter. Let me go into silence."
[Laurel]
Laurel listens to Deirdre's speech, despair growing within her heart.
"Oh, no, Mom. I didn't mean it like that... ". She falters to a stop, realisation striking of the effect her ill-chosen words have had. Tears spring from her eyes.
[GM]
All of you are being 'trumped' in a manner of speaking. Not quite trump, but similar mental communication, on broadcast mode. Let me know if you answer.
[Laurel]
When the trump-like call comes, Laurel tries to ignore it, holding to her mother, looking for any sign of hope in her heart.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre was silent, bloody tears still trickling redly down her pale skin from the damp black bandage around her eyes, the stench of her burnt flesh very strong up close. She slowly reached up and fumbled blindly until she found her daughters face. She gently touched Laurels cheek with warm, bloody fingertips.
"There is no surrender... while there is life.", she finally whispered, her soft speech still bleak and weary, filled with hopeless despair. "Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose. Lori, you could not go with me... you do not know my Arts." She paused then, her silence strained with sadness.
"Many people will despise me now, seek to hurt me, because they will not understand why this had to be done. There was no choice, Lori. My curse is an essential part of reality. So is my sisters curse on me. My only hope is that she has left us an escape, for we are twins, and her curse will affect us both."
[Laurel]
"I'm here for you Mom. I know I've not always been there in the past, but this time I am. I'll look out for you, if you'll let me".
[Deirdre]
"Lori, do you know what you are letting yourself in for?", Deirdre asked gently, her speech slowly losing that terrible note of haunted despair. "People will see this as yet another of my catastrophic blunders. People rarely ever understand my logic or why I make my choices. Kireyas did, or so I thought."
[Laurel]
"No, I don't suppose I do, Mom. But I do know that you need me, and that I am going to be here for you. Whatever that may involve, however hard it may be. You've always been there for me, when I needed you. Now it's my turn. I can do no less".
[Deirdre]
"Lori, don't feel like you have to repay me.", whispered Deirdre softly. She tried to smile, and didn't manage it. "Don't regret anything with you. My only regret is that once you'd grown up, you went away, and never talked with me. Silly and childish of me, I know, but I'd hoped we would be friends."
[Laurel]
"Know I don't *have* to, Mom. *Want* to" replied Laurel, hugging her mother for emphasis. "No, not silly or childish, Mom. I'm sorry. Needed... needed to get away, to find myself. To experience the freedom I missed out on while raising Merri. Not that I've ever regretted Merri, but sometimes... you know. I was too young".
[Deirdre]
Deirdre was thoughtful and silent as her daughter spoke. "Of course.", she finally answered, her voice very soft and quiet. "Always understood that. Simply regretful that you felt that meant you could not talk with me. Did you ever find yourself? Did you find happiness, freedom?" She raised one of her hands and gently touched the dampness of her bandage. "Please excuse me... my eyes are really starting to hurt."
[Laurel]
"Never planned to be out of touch so long, Mom. But there was always so much to do, somehow I never made the time. Never stopped to think how much it must be hurting you. I think I found happiness, and freedom, for a time. Then this happened. I guess happiness and freedom are transitory circumstances, have to fight to hold on to them. Didn't realise that" murmured Laurel. To Deirdre? To herself? Hard to be sure.
[Deirdre]
"Only know how happy we really were when in the middle of the horror.", Deirdre answered quietly, thoughtfully. "Glad you found some happiness somewhere. True happiness and strength come from within, though, like true beauty. Recently learned that. Surface appearances are so often completely deceptive." She rested her head on her knees, midnight braid falling to one side. "Lori, you were not the only one who was too young to have children."
[Laurel]
"Please don't push me away, Mom. I love you. Let me come with you, wherever it is that you're going".
[Deirdre]
She crouched down on the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Shall not push you away. Let you make your own choices. Do not feel I am worth it, but have been wrong about so much else, probably wrong about that too. Do you think you could lead me through the paradox Pattern so we could save Smoke?"
[Laurel]
"I'll do that, Mom, if you're sure you're ready for it".
[Deirdre]
Deirdre tilted her head to one side as though listening to herself. "Curse took too much from me.", she answered finally, her pain starting to leak through into her soft, quiet speech. "Would not survive a walk."
"There has to be another way to follow... should I create a mirror? Would that help? Know you have magics with mirrors, which are complex and mysterious."
[Laurel]
"It's worth a try, Mom, if we've any idea of where we need to go, if I can work out the equations".
[Deirdre]
She turned her head towards Golan. "Being very quiet, windmaster...", she whispered softly. "Does the horror of my life distress you? My help is still yours, should you want me." She sounded her old self, filled with sadness.
[Laurel]
Laurel, too, looks at Golan.
[Deirdre]
"We need to go where Smoke is.", answered Deirdre reasonably. "We don't know where that is. So first we need to know where Smoke is. Golan, do you still have that trump for a magical link? Maybe we could use the signature to follow through shadow. Does the Mirrorworld work like that? Walking this Pattern strikes me as a very risky idea, on second thoughts. What you don't know can kill you. Look at my eyes for proof of that."
[Laurel]
"Uncle Madoc could do it, I'm sure" said Laurel. "Myself? I'm not sure. I can certainly try, and hope".
[Deirdre]
Deirdre hummed to herself briefly, and then asked quietly, "Laurel, would you please trump Celia for me? I need to speak with her and maybe get a trump deck I can use. Cannot use visual trump anymore, mmm?" She suddenly hugged her daughter. "Thank you for stopping my instinct to run and hide."
[Laurel]
"Yes, of course I'll do that, Mom". Smacking her forehead, "I should have realised that Aunt Celia would be able to help with that".
Returning the hug, Laurel replies "Thanks, Mom. I needed to hear that, to know that you don't resent my interference".
Letting go the hug, Laurel skims her trump deck, and pulls out Celia's trump. She concentrates on the card, seeking for contact.
[GM]
Celia responds to Laurel's trump call: "Yes, Laurel?"
[Laurel]
"Hello, Aunt Celia" begins Laurel, awkwardly. "It's been a long time".
A brief pause, then "Mom needs your help, Auntie. Please wait a moment, I'll try to link her in".
Laurel takes Deirdre's hand, trying to bring her into the trump contact.
[GM]
Deirdre's patched in to the trump contact.
[Celia]
"Oh no..." There is worry in the mental voice. "Laurel, quickly, what is wrong? I'm not... I'm not in the best situation to be able to help right now. I don't want you, or Deirdre, to get caught in the middle of this. Its not... its not that I don't *want* to help, but... if I don't have full concentration I'm afraid something could get out of hand quickly."
[Deirdre]
Deirdre stared into nowhere, bloody tears still trickling down her pale face from the shattered ruins of her eyes, hidden behind the bandage of black linen. She was huddled on the ground in the Grotto of the Pattern, her arms wrapped around her knees, fingertips red with blood. Her braid, also smeared with blood, hung limply down her back in tightly woven darkness. She was clothed in a white shirt, black trousers tucked into black boots, and a black overcoat.
"Hallo, Celia. Secrets had to be preserved, so I preserved them. Ty'iga in my mind raped all the secrets you and others have trusted me with away, so I crafted a curse for it with my blood and my pain. By my blood, by the anguished horror of my violated mind, I cursed those who have learned my secrets against my will to be unable to communicate them to others. I cursed them with the agony of helpless humanity and vulnerability."
"I cursed them to forever forget all the knowledge which was raped from me, to forget who they are, and wander through the worlds in endless misery and horrific anguish. Until the day they have learned their lesson and received my forgiveness, these curses will damn them, and they shall know the full horror of being helpless before those larger than them. Even then they shall never remember my stolen secrets, or the stolen secrets of those who have trusted me. Do you understand? Will you forgive me for what I have done? Did my curse catch Corwin in the backwash, as I suspect?"
[Celia]
"I may forgive you, when I can, Aunt, but not yet. Not now. Not when you may well have made me no longer exist." My voice is harder than usual, with a strange edge to it. "Yes, my father was caught in the backlash... And now, for your own safety and mine DO NOT CALL ME AGAIN."
The Trump connection closes down abruptly, and violently.
[Deirdre]
Deirdre did not seem even remotely surprised, and she did not speak after the trump contact closed. She simply huddled further into herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and smearing blood still further over her clothes.
[GM]
The Pattern that is on the ground begins to fade away, enveloped by a pink glow.
[Laurel]
"Mom, the Pattern's fading away. There's some sort of pink glow around it" Laurel tells Deirdre.
For a while, Laurel simply hugs her mother, giving what comfort she can.
[Deirdre]
"Laurel, which trump card did you use for Celia, and what did she look like?", Deirdre asked quietly a short while later. She did not seem upset, simply thoughtful and filled with sadness.
[Laurel]
Looking puzzled, Laurel replied "Why, I used Celia's trump from the standard deck, Mom. It was the deck I picked up from the library a while ago, when I was there a while back, before we discovered that Merri was missing. She still wore Aunt Fiona's body, as she did in the Grove".
[Deirdre]
Deirdre remained silent after her simple question and the answer. She did not move. She did not speak. She did not gesture, or summon whitegold light. She did absolutely nothing except huddle deeper into herself and her total silence. She did not even hug her daughter back. She seemed to be waiting patiently.
[Laurel]
Finally, she says "Mom, we need to look for Smoke. What can you tell me about her? Do you know her well? Can you give me an image? I might be able to do a scrying, if I can learn enough about her. Maybe get a mirror image of her, to use in the equations".
[Deirdre]
"Golan should tell you about Smoke. Will try to shape an illusion of her as I knew her, centuries ago, but blind it may not work."
Deirdre stretched out her hand, whitegold light flaring...
[GM]
Golan would probably insist on finding Smoke on his own.