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The Road to Rebma

All of them could now sense the oddness in Shadow-walking. It was amazingly easy for three shadows, then it felt like trying to Shadow-walk near Amber - exceedingly difficult, but possible, with enough will and time.

Malcolm's will and stamina sufficed, and the four natives began to see familiar sights. Finally, just as Malcolm's endurance wore down, the group found themselves in Arden. It was a clear, cool day, with a nice gentle breeze wafting through the trees.

"Damn," gasped Malcolm as he hunched over to suck in some air and catch his breath, "It wern't that bad last time. Next time we go to Rebma, though, we're going by boat. Least then I don't have to walk."

As he caught his breath he looked around and took stock of the enviroment, situation, and his companions.

Septima was nodding. It had not been nearly so difficult for her, as she was not shifting shadow, but all the same, if she had her way she would never walk through shadow. It should have been possible at least to ride.

"Shall we rest here a while?" she suggested.

"I am all for that," replied Malcolm as he straightened up, "We still have a bit of a walk before we get to Rebma. I like the undersea kingdom well enough, but I would prefer to have some rest before tackling the stair."

He still looked around warily.

Niall looked around, feeling only a little tired, but still he was glad for a break. Once more he tried to contact his man Mourn, back in Hy Brasil.

Septima reached up and massaged the back of her neck, a (seemingly) unconsciously seductive gesture. She was laughing quietly. "Next time we go on an adventure, I'm wearing something more suitable," she said, glancing at her long expensive gown and its small train.

Malcolm released a brief snort of laughter. "You should see what my Mother wears when she travels..."

"Ah, but your mother can assure herself of always traveling in style," Septima replied, still smiling. "Now, where is a good place to camp?"

Niall spoke up suddenly, the far-away look in his eyes gone as suddenly as it came, "There was a clearing over there that looked promising, and if I'm not mistaken, I hear running water near by. And Septima, if it would make things easier for you, you could ride Grey," gesturing to his horse. "I've not ridden him, he's well rested; I didn't want to get ahead or separated from Malcolm or Stephanie. I've simply been 'towing' him behind me. And in fact I've been wondering, can I take him to Rebma or is there some place safe to leave him near by?"

"You could," Malcolm started hesitently, "But it is an unusual enviroment and he may be uncomfortable."

"Well what do you suggest?" asked Niall. "Is there a village around here where I can stable him? Should I Trump Grey back to Amber?"

Catryzna smiled. "We can make sure he stays safe. Though, being an animal you've spent a lot of time with, I expect you'll find that he's quite capable of caring for himself."

Niall smiled and patted Grey on the nose, then reached in a saddlebag and produced an apple which he promptly gave to Grey to enjoy. Looking at the rest of his new-found kin, Niall asked, "Is anyone else hungry? I've got some more in here in one of the bags, and I'm willing to share." As Niall spoke he produced several small packets of bread, cheese, a small roast, and finally a wineskin. "It's from my own vineyards; not the very best, but it travels well, and goes down easy." With that he opened the 'skin and tipped it up, pouring some wine directly into his mouth. After a long drink Niall asked, "Anyone else? And I'm still wondering how Grey will be kept safe; though I do agree, he's very capable of caring for himself."

Malcolm signalled to Niall that he'd be more than happy to help him deplete his supplies.

"Well, this is Julian's domain... Does anybody feel like talkin' to him?"

Malcolm scanned the woods again.

"Although I am surprised that none of his Rangers has shown up yet."

Septima, who had come to make friends with the horse that Niall had offered for her to ride, glanced up at the mention of Julian. "On my way to Amber," she said, "I found this road blocked... I wonder..."

Malcolm looked over with interest. "Please continue."

"I'm only speculating, so it may or may not be of use," Septima said, biting her lower lip. "But Niall... you suggested that to get to Amber from your country you needed to go through Tir Na Nog'th - air... For me to reach Amber I had to go through Acheron - the reflection of fire. I do not think I found what I was meant to find there, for my mind was bent on my destination. Also, if the voice in our head is to be believed, whatever is there is not for me. It is... somewhat disquieting as well as admittedly fascinating that we seem to be a part of an arcane treasure hunt set to us by unknown parties. And more so that we seem to be blocked from the reflections holding that which is meant for each in particular... I could not shift this close to Rebma for example, but Malcolm can. Indicating that we were meant to work as a team." She paused, brushed a strand of hair from her face and shrugged, making a few notes in her everpresent notebook. "Mere speculation of course. The blocking of my road could have been merely a normal difficulty to obtaining Amber by land... I have no doubt your constitution exceeds my own, Malcolm."

Malcolm favored her with a full smile, the one that charms dragons and calms manticores.

The smile seemed to create a warmth in Septima which they had not previously seen. Against her will, her returning smile was youthful and complete.

"Well, with shadows acting up, anything is possible. Our relative stamina may, or may not, have anything to do with it. I am well travelled... well, the more accurate appraisal is that I spent most of my adult life practically as a nomad. I have had lots of practice... with lots o' things."

He rubbed his jaw.

"Hang on to that theory though... it may help us sort this mess out."

"Well, I'll continue to work on it, anyway," Septima said, "it is what I do."

Niall didn't appear to pay attention to anyone for quite some time, then suddenly he scowled, looking directly at Septima and Malcolm.

"Does anyone hear what anyone else is saying? Septima through from Acheron, the reflection of fire, and Malcolm needs to find the City of Brass, which according to most mythologies resides in elemental plane of fire, and I'm told to seek the Flame. Is there a lighthouse there in Acheron? And if you had to go through Acheron to reach Amber, what then is your home Shadow? Is there a Pattern there as in the Tir?" Niall paused suddenly, then spoke again, "I'm sorry if I seem upset with you, I'm not really. It's just that I hate being lead around in this fashion. Frankly if the first image the Primal Pattern hadn't shown was of water, and thus we're assuming it meant Rebma, I'd suggest we head instead to Acheron!"

"My Lord Niall," Septima said coolly, "you may of course head wherever you so choose. But I have been to Acheron, and I have no desire to return there. Rebma is what I seek. I come, as I have said, from Mythgaerd, where my father Lord Aurelianus was Duke. I achieved Amber through Acheron because, as I explained, when I tried to travel by land my road was blocked. I was led or forced to a ship which took me to the reflection of the Pattern in the fire - Acheron. I believe you are correct in suggesting that this is where your Flame resides, and perhaps Malcolm's City of Brass. If you wish to journey there, I would suggest taking a boat from the Lighthouse of Cabra, shifting with that in mind. I will go on to Rebma."

Malcolm's face visibly darkened and he took on a more regal and intimidating appearence as Niall went on with his tirade.

"Lord Niall," he stated rebukingly, "Art thou not a Scion of Dworkin, The True Creator of All? Does not the Blood of Amber course through thy veins? If thou feelst that thou art being manipulated and lead falsly then thine anger is not misspent. Thine repentence is unwarranted and belittling. Methinks, however..."

Malcolm seemed to calm and return to his usual slouched appearence and mannerisms.

"...that since we're here anyway we should all take a look at Rebma. We can go to Acheron next, then Tir, etc... 'cause I'm getting the notion that we have to go to all of the Elemental Patterns anyhow."

He grinned.

"Ready when you all are."

Septima regarded Malcolm with a certain interest as his entire bearing changed for the moment. Then she smiled. "At your leisure, my lords and ladies."

Niall just looked at Malcolm then at Septima before replying, "How many sibs do either of you have?" He held up his hand suddenly. "Never mind, I don't care. I have forty-four living sibs, of which about a third are at least mildly insane by any standard you care to use and all exceedingly dangerous in one fashion or another. What you consider apologizing, is for me simply avoiding having to kill another sib; again. The majority of my sibs duel at the slightest provocation, and since the majority return to life after being killed, and I don't, you learn how to handle a bunch of murderous kin. As for being a Scion of Dworkin, the first I heard of him was when I met him for the first time earlier today...if today it still is. Powerful, and either insane or so preoccupied, that he's damn near incomprehensible." Niall mutters to himself, "Not that's particularly strange to me,... but" now speaking firmly to the rest, "if giving any appearance of being apologetic is against the rules of the House of Amber, then I can be," and here Niall takes on an equally regal and dangerous mien as Malcolm had moments before, "as hmm, noble, as any other who has walked the Pattern and survived."

Then Niall smiled slightly, relaxing momentarily, then became very serious. "And as for being manipulated, what else is new. If Amber is anything like Anwwn, elders always use youngers as pieces in their games. And I'm sure, that in Amber as in Anwwn, the pieces can and do turn upon the player. So by all means let us travel the path set before us and see what mischief we may do along the way."

"Oh, Ho!" responded Malcolm boisterously and with good humor, "Now you are thinking like an Amberite! Whether or not you see this as an improvement is up to you but I feel that grand mischief has been set before us so what little we cause will be of no consequence."

Septima regarded Niall in turn for a moment, thinking about his words. Then she nodded. "It is a hard thing for a powerful man to be manipulated, but I suggest that you both consider the possibility that this manipulation is benevolent. I do not know what the voice in each of your heads said, but to me the suggestion was that I may find a gift in Rebma. Perhaps we are being helped, not hindered."

Malcolm paused and stroked the hilt of his sword thoughtfully.

"'Beware strangers bearing gifts,'" he intoned solomly then, "'Never look a gift horse in the mouth.'"

He smiled, "So much for guidance from the the wisdom of the universe. Are we all ready?"

A soft footstep was all the warning they had - but when they turned, Stephanie, Malcolm, and Catryzna knew that they'd been given that warning deliberately.

Julian stood beside the trail, his long hair barely moving in the light breeze. He gazed at each of the group impassively. "Quite a busy day for Arden. Move along - you're disturbing my hunting."

Septima froze. She recognized him, of course, but had no idea how to read this man or move him.

Coming to a decision, she rose, offered Julian a deep curtsy and said, "Of course, sir."

She looked at Malcolm.

"We did not mean to intrude, Uncle," Malcolm said pleasantly with a courteous nod, "We are on our way to Rebma and paused here to decide what to do regarding Niall's horse, Gray. We're sure that we could take him with us but we don't want to make him uncomfortable."

He paused very briefly as if he had a sudden thought.

"Any insight you could grant us would help speed us on our way and allow you to return to hunting that much quicker."

Julian looked at Gray, then moved over to the horse and spoke softly to it - those close enough could tell he was speaking in Thari. He stepped back. "He'll go to the Amber stables and wait for you there. One of my hellhounds will go with him, both to assure his safety and a space in Amber's stables."

Niall nodded then removed his saddlebags from Gray's back. He then spoke to Gray, saying "It's alright old man, I'll be fine. You go back to Amber and rest up."

With that he patted Gray's flank to send him on his way. "My thanks sir, for coming to Gray's aid. He and I go a long way back; in fact his entire line and go way back. Again my thanks."

Niall then looked to Malcolm and the rest of his cousins saying, "So how do we proceed from here?"

"That-a-way," Malcolm indicated by throwing his thumb over his shoulder towards Rebma before he continued speaking to Julian.

"Many thanks, Uncle," he said formally, "Is their any new information or do we lack sufficient time to parlay?"

Julian raised one eyebrow and seemed about to turn away without speaking, but he shrugged instead. "The same. The same since Random took the throne. Most of us are busy, putting a cap on the intrigue. Bleys and Caine still play, though."

Malcolm laughed heartily.

"I guess that proves that some things do not ever change," Malcolm added merrily, then added on a more serious note, "I wonder which game they're playing this time."

He paused allowing for Julian to answer if he wished.

Septima listened curiously, unwilling to interrupt the conversation.

Julian shrugged eloquently. "The same one they've ever played. See who can make things more chaotic, and how. They've merely increased the stakes."

"Oh, really," stated Malcolm with apparent lightness, "What prize have they set their sights on this time?"

Septima raised an eyebrow at her cousin. She thought the answer was fairly evident.

Niall just waited and listened. While he wanted to quiz Julian to see if he knew anything about the goings on in Fairie, he had long ago learned the lesson of silence and patience. So he waited...

Julian's eyebrows also rose, but he shook his head. "Not the crown, no. Bleys would take it if offered, but knows he would not survive it if he stole it. Both, however, enjoy causing trouble, and would delight if such trouble gave them their desires."

Septima hid her disappointment at being wrong quite well. She simply cocked her head a bit to one side, one cool hand massaging the back of her neck and then reaching up to pull out the one silver pin that held her mass of auburn curls in place. She was tired, obviously, or she wouldn't be jumping to conclusions, and the pin ached against her scalp.

Malcolm messaged his temples and sighed.

"Oh well. We'll just have to keep a look-out for their various and sundry manipulations... as always," he added with a grin.

"Thank you, uncle, for your time and knowledge," he said more formally, "and for assisting us with the horse. Fare thee well and good hunting." He ended as a farewell.

Julian turned his back on them and disappeared into the forest.

"Well," Septima said in irritation, rubbing her neck for another moment, "he was certainly a joy to meet."

Niall shrugged. "Could have been worse, he could have given misinformation, and played us as others may have done. Instead he has essentially ignored us. Now shall we go on? Malcolm, I believe you were going to led us onward, or do you prefer someone else for the final attempt to reach the undersea city?"

Septima shook her head at Niall, but all she said was, "Forgive me - I suppose I was hoping for a warmer reception from an uncle I've never met. Perhaps it's the end of the day talking."

Malcolm laughed warmly.

"My dear cousin, from Julian, that WAS a warm reception," he grew dark for a moment, "If he decided we're a nuisence he would have not bothererd to talk to us at all, or if, Unicorn forbid, he was opposed to us we would now be Hell Hound chow."

He turned to Niall with a grin.

"I am ready and willing to continue to the undersea kingdom. If you all would be so kind as to follow me..."

With a grand gesture he began the final leg of their journey to Rebma.

Amber was always Amber. The journey to Rebma was quiet and uneventful. It took a bit of time, but that was usual. Finally the beach came in sight, and the four could see the beginnings of the Faiella-Bionin, the water-stairs leading into the ocean towards Rebma.

Upon arriving at the beach, Malcolm spun around and waved his arms. "Ta-DAA!!!"

He grinned mischievously and added, "Now we just have to go down about a thousand stairs under the water and we are there."

He appeared to be eyeing his companions critically. Almost as if he were assessing their ability to continue and the like.

"Your pardon, but the enchantments that allow one to breathe underwater on the stair and in Rebma - do they extend to keeping one's clothing from becoming heavy and unmanageable?" Septima gestured again to her long brocaded gown. "Or should I... adjust my dress somewhat?"

"Water still acts like water," Malcolm answered as he took out his side-arm and wrapped it before placing it in an inside pocket of his coat, "Your movement isn't really all that encumbered but it takes some gettin' used to. The less frills and accessories the better I would guess."

He made sure all of his pockets and straps were closed to ensure no trapped air would cause is clothes to float.

"Oh, yea," he added as an apparent afterthought, "stay on the stair or all bets are off."

Niall looked up from his preparations, and asked, "And what bets would those be cousin? Does then the water pressure crush the poor fellow who fell off the stairs? Lovely."

"Ain't you just full of love and sunshine," responded Malcolm with a sarcastic grin, "Naw, t'ain't that deep, at least not to those of us who are pretty durable 'cause of our parenting. I'd be more concerned with the sudden loss of the ability t' breathe -- 'less, of course, you can grow gills 'cause one of your parents was a fish."

He started towards the stairs while whistling tunelessly.

Septima had quietly begun to tear her gown along its seam, and once she got it to knee length, she took out a small knife and cut a remarkably even hem. She was wearing flat slippers that matched her dress.

She then quietly returned the knife to its sheath in her sleeve, and followed Malcolm toward the water.

The stairs were not guarded, and the four started down them easily enough. In fact, it was amazingly like air, aside from a slight push against their clothing. For those who had been to Tir, the feeling was much the same - the stairs, while comfortable to their feet, seemed to move them greatly through the water with each step.

Eventually they came to a gate, where they finally saw guards, who stood alertly but not threatening as the quartet approached. One stepped out as they exited the stair and nodded. "Scions of Amber, what is your purpose here?"

"I am Lady Septima," Septima said, smiling at the guards. "I have quarters within that I would like to visit, if that is acceptable."

Malcolm held out his hands in a gesture of peace as Septima spoke. He waited to see if the guards required a response from all of them or if they would except Septima as their spokesperson. After all, they were travelling together. Malcolm's stance, alert with a slightly lazy slouch, seemed to express competence but that he was also completely harmless due to lack of motivation.

Niall just waited patiently, letting Septima do the talking for them.

With Stephanie staying quiet as she was recently wont to do, the guards took in each person's demeanor, then stood aside. "Enter into Rebma the Divine in good will, and leave in good will. Take no actions that reflect poorly upon your station, and do not anger the City of Cities.

Septima nodded regally to the man and swept through the gates.

Malcolm nodded to the guards then followed Septima in without a word.

Niall followed in his cousin's wake.

Rebma had a feeling to the quartet similar to that of Amber - which, given that they were nearly mirror images of each other, wasn't surprising. The palace of Rebma stood exactly where the palace of Amber would, in the same situation.

Septima's gaze took in everything as she approached the palace, differences as well as similarities. She noted the people's coloring and clothing - "practical" was the word she would have written in her notebook had she not been underwater.

"So cousins," says Niall prosaically, "I'm not familiar at all with this place, who do we see to visit the Pattern here, and any guesses as to what it will cost us to do so?"

"Diplomatically speaking... As well as just bein' respectful and courteous... We should call upon the Queen," said Malcolm as he began making his way towards the palace, "After all, she is the one who controls access to the Pattern here in Rebma."

Septima glanced back at her cousins. "Would you mind terribly if I did visit my quarters here before we assay this Pattern? I've a curiosity to see what is waiting for me, and I doubt we'll return from our more strenuous expedition."

"As you wish," shrugged Malcolm, "We could all do with a moments peace. It would also give us time to make ourselves presentable. I'm guessing by now that she knows we're here and may even have a suspicion as to why."

Niall nodded, then asked Septima, "So how do you have quarters here, Lady Septima? I thought your statement to the guards at the city gate was sheer bravado; and nicely done too, I may add. But I was under the impression that this was your first time here in the undersea city." He waved his arm about gesturing to the city as a whole.

"I do not know how I came to have quarters here," she replied. "But the voice that rang in my head when we attempted to contact Princess Deirdre indicated that I did. I wish to see if the voice can be trusted. You are all, of course, quite welcome to join me." Septima now led the way to the gates of the Palace, head held regally high. She did not look as if she expected to be stopped a second time.

Malcolm turned to the others before following Septima and grinned, "I love travelling with a princess, don't you?"

With his coat, now a cloak, fluttering behind him, he donned a similar expression to Septima and followed her as if he owned the place.

"When in Amber," muttered Niall to himself, "or Rebma as it were." Niall then shrugged and walked as if he were back in one of his domains, and planned on reviewing the guard.

The quartet quickly approached the palace, unhindered by any guards until they came to the gates. Standing where the guards would usually be was a woman of average height, green hair and pale skin with a greenish tinge. She held a crossbow lightly in one hand, unstrung. She could only be Llewella.

Llewella nodded to the four. "Welcome cousins, to Rebma. I'll venture a guess that you're not here for purely social reasons."

"Regrettably, you are correct, dear cousin," Malcolm stated smoothly, "But that does not mean that we do not enjoy the pleasure of your company."

Septima curtseyed gracefully to her aunt, the movement slowed but not really impeded by the water. "An honor to meet you, Princess Llewella. May I ask how you recognized us as cousins of the Blood?"

Llewella shrugged. "How could I not? Few, save those of the Blood, come to the Blessed City, and fewer still walk through her streets with such familiarity and sense of ownership."

Malcolm's grin indicated that he did not totally believe her answer but that he would play the game as it is supposed to be played. With a grand flourish he formally introduced his cousins and ended with...

"...and I, of course, am your dearest nephew, Malcolm the Rogue, Son of Florimel the Beautiful."

He gave her an extravagant bow.

"You are correct that this is not a social call. By your leave, may we enter the palace?"

Llewella smiled at the four and nodded. "You're here to walk Rebma's Pattern, and you want to know whose permission you have to ask. Why do you want to walk the Pattern? Every one of your elders is - at least a little - afraid of it, myself included. You lot seem almost eager."

"You misunderstand me, Lady," said Septima. "I wish only to access my rooms here... Walking Patterns fatigue me, I'm afraid."

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders in dismissal. Whether it was for Septima's statement, their apparent eagerness, or lack of fear was left murky.

"May we continue our discussions inside? Perhaps in Septima's rooms... if she is willing to play hostess, of course?" he ended with a grin towards his cousin.

To be continued...

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