I spent the next month furnishing and re-decorating my apartment to suit me.

            The sitting room contained a “L-shaped” leather couch with an end table, a reading chair facing the couch and a center table with a blue Corellian throw rug underneath it all, two bookcases, one just inside the door and the other beside the end table, a roll-top desk with a chair and a liquor cabinet in the corner opposite the couch.

            The bedroom contained a chest of drawers with a wall mirror, and a cedar chest from the Endor forest, and a queen size four posted canopy bed from Alderaan. There was a window on each side of the balconies and Corellian silk curtains hung over each, as well as one across the balcony openings, covering the large wooden doors.

            I sat on my private balcony taking in the tranquillity of the gardens below, and searching my soul for direction, again for the first time in years as a duchess of Amber. There was something missing, but I didn’t know what at the time. I felt a now familiar sensation, a Trump call. I answered.

            The image before me was a tall, muscular, brown haired, green-eyed man. His hair was just longer than shoulder length and tied back in a tail. He wore Victorian Era clothes: white shirt, black breeches and high boots, and a brown longcoat. He spoke with a Gaelic accent.

            The truly odd thing about this man was his features, they were almost the mirrors of mine and he seemed shocked that I was talking to him via Trump, even though he called me.

            I pulled him through and presented him to Random, who examined him as he had me a month or so ago. The man, who had introduced himself as Owen Cedric, according to Random and the Jewel of Judgment, turned out to be my fraternal twin brother, whom I’d forgotten.

            Owen showed Random the Trump he had used to contact me. Random recognized the card to be Mary Bleyson’s handiwork. I knew that name and shuddered at the sound of it, but who why I could not recall. He requested us to undertake a quest to capture the renegade Amberite and bring her back to the castle, alive.

            Joining us on this adventure, which began with a Trump sketch by Michael, to Owen’s home Shadow, were Valian Julianson and Anthony Julianson, a.k.a. Titan a real “comic book” hero, and there was Belle.

            Valian had grown up in Amber, although he was hidden in a shadow of Amber during the Patternfall War. Julian had adopted him as a young child. No one knew for sure who his parents were. He wore green with white trim, in much the same renaissance style as the rest of Amber. In his true form, he was 6’ tall, about 230 lb. with a broad build, brown hair, and hazel eyes. Valian was also a shape shifter. In his Chaos form he was 8’ tall with green scaly skin, four arms--two spikes protruding from each--bigger and broader, razor-sharp, sabre-tooth tiger like teeth, 6” razor claws, large spiked black bat-like wings, backward facing knees with a spike on each, and Valian’s cute boyish features.

            Titan had grown up in Shadow, in fact he had only come to Amber a month or so after I did. He had Julian’s features, but normally kept himself hidden away in a blue and blue-gray suit of armor. He looked more like a droid than a man. The armor gave him the ability to fly, Shadow Seek, stupendous vitality and strength, made him invulnerable to all conventional weapons, the ability to regenerate, and contained numerous lethal weapons. He also had the ability to transfer some of his nano-probes into another’s body to aid in their regenerative healing.

            Belle is a Faerie. She has a pale complexion, pale golden hair, blue eyes, and is adorned with magnificent white gossamer wings. In her home Shadow she’s about 6” tall (where the rest of us would also be in a world of giants), in Amber and most other Shadows she stands about my height with a 32-28-33 figure. She wears a mint-green dress made of spider-silk from her home Shadow.

            Belle was created as a blood creature of Brand, a playmate, by Oberon. When Brand outgrew his friend, she went off into Shadow.

             In Owen’s Shadow we could feel the presence of Amberites and others he called Immortals as if by a danger sense. In this Shadow the Immortals were fighting each other for a mythical prize which would give the winner, id. est. the last survivor, the power to rule the universe. The only way to kill an Immortal was decapitation, as a result they all carried swords or similar sharp objects of primitive destruction.

            These Immortals also possessed the ability to conceal these weapons in ordinary clothing, almost as if they were pulled from Shadow as any Amberite could do with their personal items such as Pattern swords, and personal Trump decks.

            Amberites fit into this world well, we all carried blades of our own. Why? Even in a Shadow where metal turns to rubber a weapon that can inflict lethal damage still delivers even if it is made of rubber.

            Owen said there was only a handful of Immortals in this Shadow, although there was a chance of a new one being born out of every twenty billion people in the world. The older Immortals could sense the “unborn” and kill them before their rebirth, and some did.

            Michael concluded Amberites registered as Immortals because this Shadow had adapted to Owen’s presence.

            We used this sense to track Mary with aid of a spell cast by Michael which added Trump power to his sense.

            During our search we encountered a demon spirit called “Jack the Ripper.” It would have taken Titan if Michael hadn’t found a way to trap it in a wine bottle and safely lock it away.

            When we found her, we realized she was too powerful for us to bring back to trial alive, unless . . . I took a chance and called upon the Dark Side. I used it to weaken her and place her in a forced hibernation trance.

            We brought her back to Castle Amber where she was imprisoned, still in stasis. Unfortunately we now had to find her brother Jonathan before he found a way to free her.

            Fiona set up an intravenous nutrient drip to keep Mary alive. I had set the awakening conditions as only King Random could order her to come out of the trance.

            I took some time to show my brother around the Castle, and introduce him to the Elder Amberites I knew. I told him what I knew of Trumps, Shadow, and The Pattern. He in turn gave me a few pointers on the fine art of sword combat.

            The blade he carried was styled after the swords of the Samurai of Shadow Earth. The construction rivaled the best blades in Amber. The hilt was carved to resemble a dragon with its head facing the pommel. It had two rubies in its eyes and was carved of pure ivory. The blade was the finest steel I had ever seen.

            He seemed to prefer the dull earth tones brown, black, white, and some greens. We all, even the Elders, had certain color preferences, which acted like a kind of heraldry. Renaissance period clothing seemed to be the general style of Amber, and Owen with his late Victorian style stood out in a crowd despite his colors.

            I tended to wear my blue, living-silk dress, a black hooded cloak, black or brown lace up sandals, and my a brace on my right wrist to which my lightsabre magnetically attached, that also contained my comlink and microcomputer.

            Owen provided no clues about our parents, he was raised in Shadow as I was by people he believed to be his birth parents. Was one of them our real parent? Was Lurlyne? No one in Amber seemed to have that answer, or was willing to share it.

            We took a tour of the bars and taverns of the City Amber to learn more about the differences of each others lives, trying to find some connections.

            While Michael devised a plan to find Jonathan, I visited Shadow Earth. While there, I posed for a gentleman’s publication called Playboy. I thought it would be fun to give the men of that Shadow a cheap thrill. How often do they get the chance to lust for something that real? (Nov. 1994: 2403.1 d’L maga <//)

            I only regret they made me wear colors other than blue and black, but they said those colors were too over powering. There is something to be said for the Amberite creed of never compromising on your colors.

             I returned to my apartment in Amber where only a few days had passed, but on Shadow Earth it had been over a week.

            Belle had returned to her home Shadow.

            I sat at my desk composing this journal when I felt a disturbance in the Force. I honed in on the location to find Owen walking out of a broom closet. He later told Random he had been in the Hall of Mirrors.

            Random cautioned us about becoming involved with the Hall of Mirrors. He also insisted we search Mary’s apartment for anything that might aid us in finding Jonathan.

            Our search revealed a Trump sketch of the Pattern carved into the back of her door. Fortunately it was only a sketch and could be destroyed. Our search also uncovered a notebook, apparently written by Dworkin, on how to draw Trumps. I borrowed it to learn more about the workings of the family’s favorite playing cards.

            Valian or Titan found a deck of Chaos Trumps. The deck had been used as a trap for a creature which called itself Julia Blaze. It appeared as a shapely woman wearing motorcycle leathers with a flaming skull. She thanked us for freeing her and shape shifted into a red-haired, flame eyed, 32-year-old, 36-28-34 inch, 6’ tall, woman in the same black leather outfit.

            With nothing else of consequence in Mary’s apartment, we left to find the Hall of Mirrors. The only easy way to find it was the Pattern. Owen and Titan had not yet walked it. Titan was hesitant at first, but decided to try it. Owen just wasn’t ready to accept the power.

            Our plan was to walk the Pattern, then Trump Owen to the Hall of Mirrors when we reached it. The whole venture turned out to be a mistake.

            We ourselves became mirrors. I couldn’t see Michael or Valian, but Titan appeared as a shiny, two-dimensional version of himself. From the mirror across the corridor, from the wall where I hung, I saw my reflection. I was a 154-centimeter tall dressing mirror with a frame shaped like a tree holding a lightsabre high in its branches.

            I saw Titan’s mirror shatter. I heard two more I assumed Michael was one of them. Valian lay before me, as a shape shifter he could reform himself, a pile of broken glass slowly transforming into a pool of molten liquid, then into his own human form, however, still mirrored.

            There was a presence in the corridor. It was dark and mysterious, but not quite evil. It gave me the impression its secrets were to be revealed at a time of its choosing. The next thing I knew I was in my apartment back in the Castle, in my own true form.

            Owen contacted me via Trump. Michael was seriously injured. He had appeared in the infirmary, shortly after his mirror shattered by my calculations much like I had appeared in my chambers.

            Owen Trumped me to the infirmary, beside Michael’s bed. I used the Force to expedite Michael’s healing and even transferred a bit of my own life energy to him.

            Valian returned from the Hall of Mirrors. With him was a fragment a Shadow version of himself, which assumed a miniature version of his Chaos form and began to attack us. We imprisoned it, or rather Owen, and Titan did, and locked it away in the dungeons.

            When Michael fully recovered, we related our experiences in the Hall of Mirrors to Random. Random said we should forget the corridor and continue our search for Jonathan.

            As we left the confines of Forest Arden and the proximity of Amber where Shadow was more easily manipulated, walking that is since there was no great sense of urgency, the question of transportation came up. Someone suggested a tank. I began leading us toward an Imperial AT-AT.

            We ended up on Hoth, in a Shadow near my own, during the invasion.

            One of the massive dinosaur-like walking machines malfunctioned nearby. We boarded it. After a brief battle with the snowtroopers inside, made briefer by Titan’s superior weaponry, we repaired the damaged motivators and began traveling. I looked out the main viewer to see the foreleg come down on Commander Skywalker’s snowspeeder.

            The intercom crackled, “The shield generator has been destroyed. You can start your landing.”

            I felt his presence. I shuddered. He was coming, Lord Darth Vader, more evil, more powerful in this Shadow than my own.

            Titan, who had left the walker as soon as it began moving, flew up to attack Vader’s shuttle.

            I heard a thump. The faint whir of a recoiling cable. The distinct snap-hiss of a lightsabre and an escape hatch opening. Commander Skywalker was attempting to destroy our AT-AT with a thermal detonator as he had in my Shadow, only this time the deadly weapon conveniently rolled out of the walker a safe distance away from both us and Skywalker, before detonation.

            Titan destroyed Lord Vader’s shuttle, but the Dark Lord of the Sith survived the crash.

            Darth Vader had felt our presence and was coming toward us. The AT-AT malfunctioned, with the aid of the Sith Lord’s power.

            Valian assumed his Chaos form, a large, four armed, winged creature covered in deadly spikes with elongated fangs in both upper and lower jaws. He glided out the open hatch in an effort to engage the Dark Lord.

            Vader caught him in a crushing telekinetic grip at his throat. Valian gasped for air as his body struggled to shift into another form.

            I used the Force to disable Vader’s life-support systems. His grip on Valian instantly released.

            Titan swooped down and blasted Vader’s life-support controls before the Dark Lord could

reactivate them.

            The rest of us had vacated the useless assault vehicle and were tending the unconscious

Valian.

            Owen, Julia, and Michael began making an emergency drag for Valian. I turned to Titan and ordered him to help me repair Vader’s life-support systems.

            “Let the bastard die,” Titan said.

            “I can’t,” I replied. “He has a destiny to fulfill. Besides, can’t you feel it, those who can manipulate the Force are more real than other creatures of Shadow?”

            He relented and we repaired Darth Vader’s systems, enough to keep him alive. I also set a delayed timer on a homing signal beacon without Titan’s knowledge, giving us just enough time to reach the troop transports over the next ridge.

            Once aboard a transport, we convinced the captain to drop us off a Bespin. We took Valian to the Cloud City Hospital to recover. The rest of us secured a freighter to use to shift to our next Shadow.

            The stars shifted as we entered hyperspace and continued our Hellride. My left hand grew numb and the ship’s power went out. My fear of encountering an anti-tech Shadow had come true.

            We shifted Shadow again and everything returned to normal. The scanners picked up a ship ahead. A “sailing ship,” the kind you would expect to find in an ocean, not space. It fired upon us.

            Titan went out the airlock to engage it. His pulse-bolts bounced off their shields. Michael negated the magic of the ship and it went adrift, so did its crew.

            Eventually we boarded the ship once the magic negation wore off. Michael became the new master of the “helm” called Atlas.

            The helm was the center of the ship as the term implies, but this sailing vessel of the stars was sentient. The helm was a magical artifact that created a life-support bubble and shielded the ship as well as moved it through space. It required a mage to link with it psychically in order to propel itself or make tactical maneuvers, but aside from the symbiotic aspects seemed capable of self-awareness.

            Michael directed it to set a course for its home planet, a world in the Damarys system called Mistyque.

            We landed at the seaport of Galston, with a little help from Michael’s Trump artistry.

            Owen and Titan paid the berthing fees, while the rest of us found a tavern.

            In the “Porker’s Sterne,” we separated and began inquiring as to the whereabouts of Jonathan Bleyson.

            Owen found a barmaid by the name of Corson. She was taller than I, standing 5’9”, with dark brown almost black hair. Her eyes were the color of ice diamonds, and her skin the color of pearls.

            One thing the comely wench didn’t mention to Owen about Jonathan was the fact she was carrying his child. The Force was very strong in this Shadow and I could already feel the child’s mind.

            Titan followed a lead to a tracker named Webster.

            I used the Force, to Farsee our path, since we had confirmed Jonathan was here, to discover he was not traveling alone.

            Darvin the son of Benedict, Xavier St. Cloud the son of Mandor, and a Dark Jedi, named Lord Nor, whose presence made me shudder more than the Emperor’s had. They also had a company of troops with them.

            We outfitted a group of horses and Michael took the image of their location from my mind, then teleported us some twenty-miles behind Jonathan’s party.

            Owen sent Titan ahead to cause a diversion to slow them down. Somehow, Titan managed to “scoop up” the very ground Jonathan’s party was on and dropped it killing the armed troops and their range guide. The Amberites of course survived, and the Dark Jedi as well.

            Michael cast his trademark Electrified Lava spell at the Dark Jedi. The Force Scream released, involuntarily, by the Dark Jedi caused Michael to miss his target; however, Jonathan was vaporized.

            Valian entered into a melee with Darvin, and Owen took St. Cloud’s head.

            I was in a state of shock due to the Force Scream and the overwhelming evil, so some of the details are lost to me. Michael and Julia somehow managed to destroy the Dark Jedi.

            Once back in Amber I regained my senses.

            One day soon I must return to that Shadow. I have to steer the child of Jonathan and the wench Corson down the path of enlightenment. Time flow in that Shadow is one year for every 30-hours here in Amber, which only gives me a couple of weeks before she was ready to train.

I sat on my balcony, staring out at the grandeur of the deep rich colors of the real world trying to compare them to the Shadows I knew, when there came a familiar knock on my door. It was the Royal Court Jester, Droppa Mapantz. “Duchess, the King has requested your presence in the yellow room, immediately,” he said in a very serious tone.

            Out of instinct, I picked up my lightsabre and placed it on the magnetic clip of my wristband/comlink, thanked Droppa for the message and headed down the stairs. Once at the yellow room I saw two guards at the door. Each was armed with an automatic rifle, the ones left from Corwin’s assault on Kolvir years ago.

            I knew they were Benedict’s men and if they were armed with guns this was serious. They stopped me at the door, “Who goes there.”

            “Jessica Damaris,” I said. “I’m here at the request of the king.”

            The guard on the right of the door opened it and signaled me to enter. Two more guards waited, on the inside, of the door. Benedict stood to the right of the throne, his one hand (left) resting on the hilt of his sword, leaning against the wall ready to spring upon any threat to the king. Random sat quietly on the throne, his life-force inside the Jewel of Judgment held up before him.

            “He’ll be with you in a moment,” The eldest Amberite spoke, breaking the silence. I almost drew my lightsabre at the sound, I hadn’t realized until then I had not been asked to surrender it at the door as per the law, that had been one reason for my tension.

            I continued across the room cautiously. The tension mounting with every step. I reached the customary distance from the throne, curtseyed, and knelt as ladylike as I could upon the pillow at Random’s feet.

            At this close proximity, I could feel him and the Jewel. There was a comforting, intimate feeling in the air, no in my soul.

            Upon exiting the Jewel, Random said, “Jessica, your lightsabre functions normally hear in Amber?”

            Caught off guard I could only nod.

            “Is there a ruby red crystal, like this at its center?” Random asked holding up the Jewel of Judgment.

            “Yes, milord,” I managed to choke out.

            “May I see it?”

            “Of course, sire.” I responded and began removing the access-plate on the hilt.

            I reached in and removed the shard of the Kaiburr Crystal. I had forgotten the sensation and passion that comes from direct contact with the Crystal. My Jedi weapon was powered by a mere fragment, but I had held the whole Crystal once. I became homesick . . . longing to hold it again as I had when I was a child.

            Dutifully, I handed the shard to Random. It felt as if I were handing him a piece of my soul. As he took it, he examined it through the Jewel of Judgment. Held them together. Then finally asked, “Have you ever seen the whole crystal? Did it have a hole the size of the Jewel?”

            “The whole Crystal? Yes, sire. It is about the size of a small skull or large fist,” I responded. “I can’t say for certain, it has been sometime since, but I believe it may have had a small flaw about that size.”

            “The complete Eye of the Serpent,” he mused. “Have you ever heard of the LocNar?”

            “An orb of pure evil,” I said, “the Sith version of the Crystal.”

            “The Serpent’s brain pearl . . . I want you to find the Crystal and bring it back to me. If it is the Eye of the Serpent, it’s too dangerous to be left in Shadow.”

            “If it is that powerful, we may be in more danger than you realize,” I cautioned. “There is a Dark Jedi in my Shadow who may be looking for it. I accidentally made contact with her while I was trying to learn Trump Artistry. Her name is Belledonna.”

            “Belledonna?!” Benedict exclaimed.

            “You’re a Trump Artist?” Random asked, surprised.

            “Yes . . . I guess so . . . I mean I’ve been studying the art. I don’t know what compelled me to draw hers, but it was the first that worked.”

            “Get your companions together and find the Kaiburr Crystal!” Random ordered handing me back my fragment. I curtseyed and took my leave.

            Random, like myself, referred to my group as companions, mainly because no one really knew where Owen and I fit into the family tree yet. We were also the only generation of Amberites so far known to get along despite our parents.

            Using the life-bond I’d established through the Force, I called the others. Once I explained the situation, we Trumped to my “cousin’s” ship in my home Shadow. I figured it would be easier to explain Amber to a Jedi, than a tramp freighter pilot like Scandal.

            Jesse Damaris, the true child of Lurlyne, had also been instructed by Malina in the Jedi Code. Some Amberites might say he was this Shadow’s true version of me. Physically we were the same, despite the obvious gender differences, our features, hair, eyes, in fact we were more alike than my true brother Owen.

            Jesse was flying through the Alderaan asteroid field, pursued by Imperial fighters and a lone Star Destroyer. His ship was a modified YT-1300 freighter, like most independents, with three gun pods, named the White Witch.

            Owen, Julia, and Michael manned the guns. Valian and Titan exited through the airlock and engaged the T.I.E. fighters and the Star Destroyer head on. Jesse maintained the pilot’s chair, while his R5 unit and I handled repairs.

            The hyperdrive motivator and the navi-computer blew out. We were in deep trouble.

            Just when things looked hopeless, Titan and Valian somehow managed to take out the Star Destroyer. They also managed to skip us across the energy wave created by its explosion.

            Jesse was knocked unconscious. I used my Jedi instincts to set a course for a place to repair the White Witch. Corellia was six hours away, but I wish I had opted for Tatooine.

            The New Republic had an Interdictor cruiser, the Yavin, which hailed us upon entering the Corellian system. We were ordered to heave to and prepare for boarding. I complied, sensing no danger at the time.

            Almost immediately upon being boarded by the New Republic security team, I was arrested. The charge: The murder of Darius Hunter . . . the son of Belledonna . . . a crime committed nine years ago, on Mimban.

            I was of course innocent, nearly ten years had passed since Michael took me to Amber, as a Jedi I had faith justice would prevail.

            I was taken before the magistrate. My companions followed. Fortunately, New Republic laws gave me the right to prove myself innocent. The magistrate, my companions, and I took the Yavin to Circapous IV . . . my homeworld.

            We were attacked shortly after landing by a Bogworm. Titan wounded it, but it destroyed our transport. It was too dangerous to travel across the land without it, and I chose to contact my nemesis directly . . . she was an initiate of a Broken Pattern, as I had once been. It was this power she used to frame me.

            I knew she staged the whole murder, and with the permission of the magistrate I used the Force, and Michael’s magic to prove it. Then we sent the magistrate and his guard back to the Yavin and continued our mission.

            I pulled her Trump from my deck and made contact. She was waiting for that, and she’d trapped it. I don’t know what’s happened to my companions . . . but I seem to be in some sort of well.

            My lightsabre provided me a means to climb to the top, by carving small hand and foot holds along the walls, but I cannot penetrate the barrier. I can’t Trump out, nor do the Trumps even grow cold. Are they all dead? Or am I? My only companion now is the dark. The Dark Side of the Force, that is, calling me to succumb.

            I sit on a ledge with my feet dangling over the edge contemplating my fate. Do I fall to my death or to the Dark Side . . . or perhaps there is a way out that I’ve yet found?

            DAMN the day I ever heard of Amber . . . or should I curse my Amber parent . . . was it my father or my mother? How much of my life is a lie? They say Amber is the “real world,” but what is reality? Even Amberites can be killed in Shadow. My world was in turmoil, but it was real to me.

            I reached out through the Force for the Crystal . . . “Climb!” a voice said. I began climbing . . . pushing through the barrier of blackness, much as I had the Veils of the Pattern. I don’t know how far or how long I climbed when I heard the second voice say, “Join us, it would be easier.”

            It felt evil, as black as the abyss I was pressing though. “NO!” I replied, “I’ve walked the path before, never again. The universe is full of opposites. There can be no light without darkness . . . no good without evil . . . I choose to walk the path of light!”

            Suddenly without warning, I burst though the barrier into the temple of the Crystal. My companions were being attacked by stone statues of the Sith Lords which had been on the walls. I drew my lightsabre to defend myself and my companions.

            One of the stone Sith Lords “fired” his lightsabre blade through me.

            My “living silk” dress grew into my wound to quell the bleeding acting as a bandage. This was the first time since I had put on this symbiotic plant material that it actually tried to save my life.

            Through the Force I kept myself conscious and accelerated my natural healing. Titan used his nanite probes to give me another boost. He then carried me and Julia out of the temple.

            We looked up to see a squadron of Imperial shuttles descending.

            I used the Force to accelerate the healing of my companions, while Titan began destroying the Imperial forces with his superior, albeit more personal weapons.

            I drew a Trump Sketch of the Crystal and we Trumped to it.

            Belledonna and her teenage son, Darius Hunter, guarded the glowing stone. I could feel Mandor lurking in the shadows.

            Owen engaged in combat with Mandor. Valian with Darius, Michael and Titan entered melee with Belledonna. I went for the crystal.

            As my hands folded around it as a mother might hold a child, I could feel the Force flowing through me. Healing me, strengthening me . . . I had the power to destroy Belledonna and her bastard son with a thought. I had the power to . . . “convince them the battle was over . . . leave now . . . you’ve won this one.”

            Belledonna stepped into a Shadow Crack as an Amberite would shift Shadow. Titan followed her.

            Many of the actual details of the battle are lost to me because of the sensations I felt with the Crystal. WE did win and return to Amber . . . or did I just teleport us back?

            We were granted an immediate audience with King Random.

            Benedict as usual was standing beside the throne. I stared at the stump of his right arm . . . I had the power in my hands to make it regenerate, but I knew he would not accept my offer.

            I curtseyed and kneeled before the throne holding before me the Kaiburr Crystal, which indeed had a flaw the exact shape and size of the Jewel of Judgment.

            Random took the Crystal and began gazing into it. Random, like all the Kings of Amber (Oberon, Eric, and Corwin) before him, was attuned to the Jewel and had seen the Pattern within. As he intensified his scrutiny of the Kaiburr Crystal, I was drawn in with him.

            There was a distorted reflection of the Pattern within it, surrounded by winking points of light, tiny flares and flashes, different curves and paths. He focused his will and I mine . . .         Redness and slow motion. Like sinking into an ocean of his viscosity. Very slowly, at first. Drifting and darkening, all the pretty lights far, far ahead. Faintly, our apparent velocity increased. Flakes of light, distant, intermittent. A trifle faster then, it seemed. No scale. We were points of consciousness of indeterminate dimensions. Aware of movement, aware of the configuration toward which we advanced, now most rapidly. The redness was nearly gone, as was the consciousness of any medium. Resistance vanished. We were speeding. All of this, now, seemed to have taken but a single instant, was still taking that same instant. There was a peculiar, timeless quality to the entire affair. Our velocity relative to what now seemed our target was enormous. The little, twisted, maze was growing, was resolving into what appeared a three-dimensional variation of the Pattern itself. Punctuated by flares of colored light, it grew before us, still reminiscent of a bizarre galaxy half raveled in the middle of the ever-night, haloed with a pale shine of dust, its streamers composed of countless flickering points. And it grew or we shrank, or it advanced or we advanced, and we were near, near together, and it filled all of the space now, top to bottom, this way to that, and our personal velocity still seemed, if anything, to be increasing. We were caught, overwhelmed by the blaze, and there was a stray streamer which we knew to be the beginning. We were too close--lost, actually--to apprehend its overall configuration any longer, but the buckling, the flickering, the weaving of all that we could see of it, everywhere about us, made us wonder whether three dimensions were sufficient for the senses-warping complexities with which we were confronted. Rather than my galactic analogy, something in my mind shifted to the other extreme, suggesting the infinitely dimensioned Hilbert space of the subatomic. But then, it was a metaphor of desperation. Truly and simply, I did not understand anything about it. I had only a growing feeling--Patterned conditioned? Instinctive? --that I had to pass through this maze also to gain a new degree of power that we sought.

            Nor was I incorrect, Random knew this for he had been here before. We were swept on into it without any slackening of our apparent velocity. We were spun and whirled along blazing ways, passing though substanceless clouds of glitter and shine. There were no areas of resistance, as in the Pattern itself, my initial impetus seeming sufficient to bear me throughout. A whirlwind tour of the galaxy? A drowning man swept among canyons of coral? An insomniac sparrow passing over an amusement park of a Victory Day evening? These thoughts as I recapitulated my recent passage in this transformed fashion.

            ...And out, through, over, and done, in a blaze of ruddy light that found me regarding Random holding the Kaiburr Crystal sitting on the throne with me kneeling before him, then regarding the Crystal, the Pattern within it, within us, everything within us, us within it, the redness subsiding, down, gone. Then just us, the Crystal, the Pattern, alone, subject-object relationships reestablished--only an octave higher, which I feel is about the best way to put it. For a certain empathy now existed. It was as though I had acquired and extra sense, and an additional means of expression. It was a peculiar sensation, satisfying.

            I knew I could use the Pattern to send me anywhere at this moment, but returned to my place before the throne.

            Random handed the Kaiburr Crystal to Benedict, with instructions to secure it in a safe place.

            King Random congratulated us on a job well done and dismissed us.

            I returned to my apartment. Darius and Mandor were waiting for me. They drugged me, somehow, and carried me off through Shadow.

            I have touched the dark powers of the Sith, so I knew what Darius was trying to do. What I didn’t know was how long I could resist the Memory Wipe? How long would I remember my control of the Force? Of Shadow? The Pattern? Anything?

            Mandor wanted a child of the Force . . . one with the Blood of Amber . . . and I was to be the mother of that child, even if it meant losing my mind.

            Darius’ control of the Force was so strong that I forgot how to use my Alter Powers almost before we left Castle Amber. Control was the next group, followed quickly by Sense. I could feel my companions trying to reach me via Trump, but I was unable to respond.

            For an instant I made contact with Michael, when we reached the “gateway” to the Shadow of their desire. Darius had momentarily turned to focus on the guardians of the Shadow and eased up on his control of my mind.

            As we passed through the gate, however, all contact was lost.

            We were in a Shadow much like my own, maybe even nearby, but by now I had forgotten how to manipulate Shadow.

            We were on a planet, in a heavily guarded private military installation, I think. This was where the humiliations . . . violations began.

            They began conditioning me with droids. The first was designed with lifelike hands which fondled my breasts, while two vibrating appendages penetrated me. One of them in my anus; the other my vagina. The thing also has another device which tickled my clitoris at the same time.

            Its movements were precise and calculated, for all its probing it didn’t break my hymen. It even forced me to suck my own excretions off of its appendages.

            After what seemed like days, it stopped. A new droid was brought in. This one was anatomically correct. Darius took control of my mind again and commanded me to kneel before it.

            He commanded me to take its penis into my mouth and suck it with careful instructions as to how. I can’t recall how long I endured these tasks, or whether they were repeated any number of times. I no longer had the will to resist, but I knew every pain; every humiliation of it all.

            Mandor stepped forward, dropped his pants to his knees and ordered, “Now mine!”

            Dutifully I knelt before him. I pumped him with my hand as I had been taught, and lowered my mouth to engulf his head.

            He put his hand on the back of my head and jabbed his penis down my throat, his heavy testicles banged against my small chin.

            What remained of my own will, screamed for him to stop, but he just pumped away, moving his hips so his hard penis glided down my throat. I could not utter a sound with my mouth stretched wide open, nor could I resist Darius’ control over my mind, nor could I help feeling some of the desire they drew from the moment.

            I kept sucking and listening to his moans and groans. Suddenly, Mandor began pumping thick spurts of semen into my mouth. I almost gagged. Darius’ voice in my head told me to relax and swallow slowly. That was the final humiliation . . . I was lost. A single tear began to roll down my cheek.

            I could feel Darius’ desire and frustration in my mind as he levitated me onto a lab table. I almost had the desire to alleviate his frustrations by offering to suck his throbbing penis, but Mandor’s voice ended any desires we both might have had.

            “After I have finished with her,” he said, “you may have her, but the CHILD is mine.”

            My nipples were so hard they hurt, but Mandor ignored them. He hiked my dress up to my waist. Lifted my legs above his shoulders, took his penis in his hand and prepared to plunge it into me.

            I was no longer sure whether out of desire or fear, but I waited in anticipation for his entrance.

            Was that an alarm? Guards in the next room? An explosion?

            I felt his warmth touch my trembling body . . .

            “Darius, Voile!” an echo . . . or a voice?

            “Voile!” echoed several times in my head in at least three distinct voices.

             I heard Darius’ name and other words shouted by the same voice and I felt him no longer in my mind. That same voice called Mandor’s name . . . I knew the words, but the language was now unknown to me.

            “Jessica, Zzaaq!” came another voice. I felt my psyche surge, but all I could do was cry.

            I felt a new presence probing my mind, but this one was kind, gentle, warm . . . familiar. It was joined by another, but though I could see them I could not name them. They were intending me no harm. They were searching for some knowledge . . . some hint of a power . . . the power to heal myself? It was something I no longer had.

            The second presence took me over his shoulder. He began walking a narrow winding path . . . all around us was a red light. I had been here before, but when? What was this place?

            “Valian, I need your help,” cried out the one carrying me, Michael was his name. We had reached another barrier and it felt as if he were about to drop me. I knew somehow that would be fatal.

            We were soon joined by two others, who’s names I now knew to be Valian and Titan. We were walking, mentally at least, something called the Pattern, or an image of within a ruby red crystal.

            Kaiburr Crystal . . . a fragment of it . . . the Jewel of Judgment . . . the Eye of the Serpent, I had done this before. The Pattern . . . Amber . . . the Force. It all came back to me as we pushed through the third and final veil. We reached the center.

            We were in Castle Amber. My apartment.

            I began sobbing. Between sobs I could hear myself saying, “Never again . . . I’ll never use it again.”

            My friends, companions, family, all this they were and more. They stood around me, offering support. None truly understanding what had happened to me.

            “We all love you, Jessica,” Valian said. I cried harder.

            Finally I said, in the caring embrace of Michael, “My body is no longer pure. My spirit, my soul, is damaged by what they’ve done to me . . . I can’t use the Force again.”

            The ghostly glowing form of Malina appeared before me, as I have often heard Jedi Masters do after death. In her same calm, tender, musical voice she said, “What was done, was beyond your control, against your will. Your purity is measured by your own actions, not those of others.”

            Michael interjected, “This was rape. You can’t blame yourself.”

            “All wounds heal in time, Jessica,” Malina continued. “Your heart is pure. The Force is still yours to command and serve. The Force will be with you, always.”

            Titan remained silent. Michael, Valian, Owen, Julia, and Belle echoed the words of my Jedi Master as she vanished like the wind.

            “I need time,” I said choking back one last tear.

            Titan handed me my reassembled lightsabre, which I could not even remember losing, but I knew it was the shard of the Kaiburr Crystal it held which we used to return to Amber.

            As they turned to leave, I asked Michael to stay. I wanted to delicately ask him, but there was no way to do it. “If sex itself won’t ruin my purity,” I said bluntly. “Show me what love feels like.”

            “Jessica? You’re my cousin at the very least, maybe . . . ”

            “Please, Michael!” I begged, “We’ve both wanted this for years. Please, teach me to enjoy the touch of a man, not to fear it.”

            I could feel his desire for me from the day he found me. All our growing up years we both wanted this, now that I gave him the chance he dreamed of he feared it. Still, Michael took me into his arms and kissed me.

            My body trembled, but he calmed the storm within my tortured soul. We had one long, delightful kiss that put us in the mood for love.

            We moved over near my bed. I slipped out of my dress, taking it off very slowly, partly from hesitation due to my ordeal, yet seductively. Odd how the Force turns things, Malina saved me once from becoming a sex toy, and now I have been one and she saves me again from myself.

            Michael looked down at my naturally hairless vaginal area. It was already a virtual steam bath between my legs, natural fluids already making their way out. The sensations rippling though me made me feel weak in the knees. Every second seemed like a century as he admired every curve of my shapely 34-22-34 figure.

            He approached and began licking my teats all over. He took them into his mouth, slobbering all over them, making them rise to attention. While he licked my breasts, he stuck three fingers into my sopping vagina. I could have released right then. He had me on the verge of a nipple orgasm. I’d heard about them, never thinking it possible. I became a believer at his expert tongue work.

            I was temporarily dizzy from the rush of sensations consuming me. This was a moment I was not about to forget! Sweet juices raced from me as he brought his tongue to my vaginal crease. And then he stuck his tongue against my velvet rim, sending my body into immediate spasms!

            I was shaking all over, making the bed rock with my motions. All my fears and hesitations were washed away. All my fantasies could not have prepared me for just how wonderful it was.

            He slid his tongue along my rim, content to work at a slow pace. This was a man who cared about a woman’s pleasure, wanting to offer her the highest form of stimulation.

            He fingered me while he licked my labial rim, then he stretched my vaginal lips apart like he was opening a pair of curtains. With a quick movement he pushed his tongue against my clitoris! I saw stars flashing before my eyes, almost immediately. I will admit that from time to time I did masturbate using my fingers, but self-stimulation cannot compare with a loving cousin licking your clitoris.

            He worked all over my clitoris. It pulsed, like a heartbeat, as he made love to it. He licked from every angle, making it turn bigger, the size of a cherry pit.

            But he didn’t stop there. He offered the same loving stimulation to my labia and vulva. The sensations of ecstasy escalated as his tongue moved faster and at a more erratic pace. I spewed my discharge over his tongue, making my pathway all the more slick.

            I humped my body forward, forcing his face further into my crotch. I could barely catch my breath under the circumstances. My chest thudded like a jackhammer as the sensations intensified. Michael licked me over for ten minutes until I was begging him to bring me to climax.

            “Michael, make me cum now!” I screamed. “Please, Michael, let me cum now!”

            When he heard that command, he licked with more force; causing the exquisite sensations to escalate inside me. It was soon time for me to experience sweet release. He licked my clitoris again, playing with it like a kitten and a ball of yarn. I cradled the back of his bobbing head as I exploded, cumming in ways I never imagined possible.

            The first rush of climax hit me like a thunderbolt. I started spilling sticky cum into his mouth. Then the orgasms kept coming, turning more intense by the second. I lost control of my body as it spasmed for well over a minute. One orgasm gave way to an even more breathtaking one. Michael couldn’t possibly keep up with the river of fluids flooding from my vagina. Hot sex juices dribbled down his chin as the vaginal quakes continued. I thought they were never going to stop. I was a victim of the orgasms. It was as if I’d been saving up that one orgasm all my life, saving it for the right guy. I never wanted it to end.

            But it eventually did, leaving slight aftershocks that were just as wonderful to experience. Finally, he raised his head. Plenty of cum glistened on his chin like glue. I motioned for him to move closer to my face. When he did, I licked my oils off his face. I’ve licked my fingers many times when I masturbated, but I could not recall tasting quite that sweet.

            Now it was his turn. I removed his pants and kissed his penis all over. Sure I wanted it inside me, but it was only fair. I took him as far into my mouth as possible without gagging. He made grunting sounds once I licked the length of his shaft. I went down a few inches to lick his testicle and took each bloated ball into my mouth. They were swollen, heavy with semen. From the size of them, I doubt it would take much to coax a gallon of cum from his rod.

            I kept up the same skillful sucking procedure, listening to his sweet moans and groans. That was an indication that he was about ready to pop off. I needed to taste a true lover’s cum on my tongue. And I got my wish when Michael began pumping thick spurts of cum against my tonsils. I swallowed slowly, polishing off the last of his sperm. I kept his penis in my mouth a while longer almost hating to part with it. But there was another part of my anatomy . . .

            I reclined on the bed, legs spread wide. Barely able to say the words from my state of excitement, “It’s time to fuck me, Michael. Make love to me now.”

            He thrust into my vagina, pushing his penis inside very slowly. I braced myself for pain, but there was only pleasure to experience. Soon his entire shaft was inside me. Michael kissed my mouth while he drove his penis in and out of me. I was so slippery with oils that he slid in without much effort. My muscles worked their way around his penis anxious to draw every ounce of juice from it.

            “By the Force, I love it!” I screamed raking my nails up and down his shoulder blades. The blazing fires within me turned to scorching infernos as my darling cousin taught me what it felt like to be loved and not just fucked. Soon, I got into the rhythm, pistoning my hips into his, bodies slapping together in unison. My musky juices drenched his shaft as we held on tightly. I rode the wave of passion, knowing that Michael couldn’t hold on forever. Or maybe he could; he is an Amberite.

I begged him to fill me with his cum. His body went rigid, just as he plastered my insides with lots of cum! I joined him with another involuntary release, all those oil gushing like Raven Falls on Endor! It was such a beautiful moment hat it brought tears to my eyes. I held him inside me a while longer, wanting him to never pull out. But finally he did.

            “Thank you,” I whispered. I drifted off to sleep soon after, completely exhausted. I awoke wondering if it was all a dream, but the sweet smells that still lingered in the air told me it wasn’t. Then I began to question whether Michael did it willingly or if I had controlled him as Darius had me?

            I certainly knew how. I had tasted the Dark Side on more than one occasion, even before Amber. I decided not to ask.

            Michael got up, went showered, and left to get breakfast for us. I had changed the bedding and cleaned up myself by the time he returned. We ate in my living room and discussed the events which led up to last night.

            “At least I understand,” he said, “some of it anyway.”

            “Michael, would you ever consider doing that again?” I asked letting my dress fall from my shoulder and left breast.

            He slowly rose and moved toward my chair. He knelt down beside me and kissed my turgid nipple gently. I knew it wasn’t me controlling him this time, this was pure male lust. The question of our blood relationship was the farthest thing from his mind, and mine. This was absolute carnal desire. He wanted me and I wanted him. Until Michael, I had been a virgin in the pure sense of the word, having never been with a man in a sexual relationship, now my feelings were confused. Was this love or sexual desire I was feeling? Adoration or affection? What was to become of this relationship?

            All those thoughts and more crossed my mind as he tongued my nipple, but as quickly as they had come they were gone. We were naked again, this time on the floor of my living room with my Corellian rug for a mattress.

            We took a walk in the gardens surrounding the Castle after that tumble. We stopped below my balcony and Michael promised me a private garden, here, where we were standing. A garden that I could see every time I looked out my balcony and ponder on our love. He even promised me something special, which no other garden in Amber had. Nothing could have prepared me for that.

            I wonder what the rest of the Royal Family thought of our relationship, if they knew. Who did know? Had anything like this happened before in Amber?

            Slowly I began to recover from my ordeal, but now I had another problem, I was becoming a nymphomaniac. The problem being, I only desired my cousin, Michael. And I had it bad. I got to the point where I fondled myself pretending it was him, when he was gone, almost never leaving my apartment.

            A few weeks later we were all sitting around the table in the Great Hall at dinner, when Julian came through with one of his hellhounds under his arm. It was dead. He slammed the doors behind him shouting back, “Son, come here!”

            Both Titan and Valian rose from the table to follow him, not knowing if he meant one or the other.

            A short while later they returned. They informed the rest of us, “The hellhound was killed by

a werewolf.”

            “What the Hell is a werewolf?” I asked. All my years in shadow I had forgotten this as well as my previous life in Amber.

             Valian answered my query by shape shifting into one, going through the various stages from human to full lupine. He returned to what he said was the most common form for a closer examination. It was a large, hideous creature with the body of a man, but the head, hair and claws of a wolf, even a tail. Werewolves were also known as Garou.

            Julia pulled her Trump of Owen, whom they (Titan and Valian) said had left Amber in pursuit of such a creature raiding in Forest Arden. As she did, I put my hand on her shoulder to get a look at the Shadow for a Trump Sketch later.

            A number of werewolves were devouring a bovine and Owen was being attacked by two more. Julia Trumped Owen back to Amber and the hand of one of the creatures was severed trying to follow, as the gate closed, leaving it in Amber.

            While I made a sketch the Shadow Owen just came from, Titan analyzed the severed hand. Michael gave Owen his sword which had been removed from the gelatinized body of Mandor.

            Mandor had stolen Owen’s katana during their fight on Mimban. Michael had transformed Mandor into gelatin during my rescue, and had just retrieved it.

            Owen noticed an etching on the blade. Apparently Mandor had begun a trap for Owen using his own sword.

            We Trumped to the scene Owen had just left to find the carnage still raging. One man cried out in pain; a man with a severed hand. Titan blasted him with his weapons.

            Owen drew his sword and one of the creatures shouted, “Wyrm blade! Flee!”

            Only one werewolf remained to fight. It turned invisible and began attacking from the darkness. It struck Titan in the back actually damaging his armor.

            “Coward!” Valian called out to it, “Fight us in the open!”

            “If you wish a fight, take me,” I cried out. “One on one. In the open; a fair fight.”

            It became visible again. Valian shouted, “Garou schang!”

            It turned into a less lupine, more human, but misshapen creature, not quite fully human. It lowered its weapons and called for a truce. I complied by lowering my lightsabre.

            “Why do you fight with a demon and the wielder of a Wyrm blade?” he asked. “You are unblemished by the Wyrm.”

            “The one you call demon,” I began realizing Julia had been fighting in her true form, “serves us as a friend. She was imprisoned. We set her free and now she fights alongside us of her own free will.”

            “And the wielder of the blade?” the man-beast grunted.

            “He is my brother,” I answered. “A spell was being cast upon his blade to trap him, but it is not complete.”

            “Why do you hunt us?” he asked.

            “Why does your kind raid Forest Arden? Or kill its guardians?” I responded. “They are not creatures of evil, but creatures of the hunt, put there by Julian of Amber to protect the forest.”

            “I would touch your mind to learn the truth of what you say,” he said.

            He returned to his lupine form and slowly approached me. I knelt down, lowering my psychic shields, and embraced the wolf as one might a lost pet. I didn’t know it then but in my depression I was trying to get myself killed.

            Within moments each understood the other’s truth. Each regretted the misunderstandings and deaths which had been caused. He wriggled away and resumed his natural misshapen form.

            “Would you like the blade cleansed?” he asked Owen.

            “Can it be done?” Owen asked caught off guard.

            “Of course, but not here,” the Garou (he does have a name, but it’s too difficult to put into script, even Thari) replied. “May I take it?”

            Owen complied, handing the Garou his katana. Almost immediately, he vanished as if by Trump, but not. I used the Force to find him and slipped into the place he called the Umbra behind him.

            Valian made Trump contact with me and I brought my companions through.

            The Garou had drawn a circle on the ground and marked it with runes and a pentagram. Three symbols glowed, the silvery color of the moon. He began chanting and placed my brother’s blade upon the pentagram. The ground began to smolder. Then the Chaos inscriptions shot flames into the sky like flares, even into the ground. When the fireworks were over, he handed the dragonhead katana back to Owen.

            The misshapen Garou asked permission to make a formal apology to the guardian of the Forest Arden. He asked to form an alliance between his people and Amber.

            I removed Julian’s Trump from my deck. Regarded it until it grew cold, movement, contact. “Uncle, this Garou would like to apologize for the death of your hound,” I said.

            I turned the card so the Garou could see the image and it began to make its peace in its native tongue, which Julian appeared to understand. When the Garou finished his conversation, Julian broke contact.

             I returned alone to Amber. Julia had gone with Titan to his home Shadow. Owen had gone “headhunting” in his home Shadow. Valian and Belle were trying to out drink and out shape shift each other. No one quite knew where Michael had gone.

            Two of the Elders are missing. The Hall of Mirrors has appeared twice with a “thunderclap” and they were compelled to enter according to witnesses. If the Elders can be compelled, what about me? I’ve been dominated once, who’s next?

            Which of the Elders do I blame for my state?

            Not Julian, certainly, or else Valian would have said something by now, and he calls me cousin. Not Eric, for Michael, too, calls me cousin. Random treats me like a daughter or an equal, but I think not. I’ve become, too, close to him, and by now he would have betrayed it.

            That leaves Benedict, Caine, Gerard, Brand, Bleys, Corwin, Dierdre, Florimel, Fiona, and Llewella, or maybe even one long forgotten like Osric or Finndo, but which one? Why didn’t I listen to my instincts and remain in my home Shadow? I might be dead by now, but at least the nature of things there made sense to me. I understood who I was and what I was.

            The woman who I ‘remember raising’ me as my mother was insane with the Dark Side, but I understood her. I never had children of my own, but there I cared for one as deeply, until Prath killed her. That sent me to the Dark Side, and it took me years to come back, but those things I understand.

            I’d always felt something missing from my life. Now that I’ve discovered part of that puzzle . . . Damn the day I came to Amber!

            ‘Excitement, adventure, a Jedi seeks not these things.’

                       – Master Yoda

            Damn the day I walked the Pattern!

            I left Amber for 28 days, one week Amber time, and returned to my home Shadow. I spent the time with Commander, or should I say Master, Skywalker trying to regain my confidence, but to no avail. He gave me the same encouragement speech my Amber relations had, but I still felt violated, no there was something else.

            I wasn’t long back in Amber, when Michael invited me to a secret garden of his own design. He asked me to close my eyes as he sat me upon a stone bench. When he told me to open them, I was staring at a sapling. A sapling formed from the mythical tree Ygg, also known as the Tree of Life.

            “Michael, why?” I asked almost in tears. “Where did you find it?”

            “I took it, with permission, from the Ygg itself,” he responded. “I did it for you, because Amber needs you. I need you.”

            “Michael, I . . . I can’t. I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I replied. “Thank you for the gift, but my confidence, my faith, is gone.”

            “Wasn’t it Yoda who said, ‘Try not, do or do not, there is no try’? Jessica, you can’t give up. You can do it.” He reached under the bench and produced a picnic basket and two bottles of Corellian wine.

            We ate, talked, and kissed. I got a bit drunk off the wine, but when Valian called Michael by Trump, I used the Force to throw off its effects.

            I could feel the sapling. It gave me strength and began to restore to me that which had been lost, as Michael hoped it would. It also reminded me of my failings and my vow of celibacy taken all those years ago. I can’t risk becoming another Belledonna or Lurlyne Damaris.

            I do love Michael, but I can’t . . . not yet anyway . . . give myself to anyone. I can’t risk becoming a mother. I must learn to love myself again, before I can learn to love another. To trust myself, believe in myself again.

            How do I tell him without breaking his heart; look at him without remembering? And there is something else not quite right about all this.

            Valian had informed Michael he had been hearing voices calling his name, over and over. Titan has heard the same chorus calling his given name.

            Julia and Belle led us on a Shadow Seek for the source of the chorus.

            We were led to a desolate planet, another damn desert, and a city under siege. I could feel a great evil behind the mob. They slaughtered everything in their path, burning everything behind. Into the fray we leapt.

            Lasers, bows, swords, spears . . . flashed and clashed. Hundreds, even thousands, fell before us, and they died. Michael was wounded and I stopped to heal him. Still they died, even without our help.

            An explosion echoed . . . a shock wave like that of a nuclear blast . . . a cloud of smoke . . . 1000 kilometers away. Titan had sacrificed himself to destroy the evil behind the mob, but a spark of his life force lingered; perhaps there was hope.

            With the evil gone the fighting stopped. Michael was too weak to teleport us there, Valian could only teleport back to Amber . . . by the Force if there was only a way I could teleport us all to Titan’s aid.

            “We must get him to his home Shadow,” Owen said. I looked around, laying before my companions was the twisted and broken armor of Titan. I had done it.

            “They have the technology there to save him,” Owen continued.

            We spent over a month in Titan’s home Shadow, and indeed he was healed, his armor repaired, better than before, almost cloned.

            Michael and I had gone off to a cabin in Oregon, alone. I had decided to give him one final tumble, before I broke his heart. Before we got too involved, however, I heard the distinct sound of an Incom T-65, an X-wing class starfighter. I felt a disturbance in the Force. I grabbed my lightsabre and ran out of the cabin to face the pilot, naked as a newborn babe.

            “Who are you? Where have you come from?” I asked.

            “Jesse Hunter, Jedi Knight and lately martial arts’ instructor, defender of this world.” He replied, “I felt a disturbance in the Force and tracked it to you.”

            I knew him now. He was from my Shadow, father of Darius Hunter, brother of Belledonna. He must’ve accidentally shifted Shadow and ended up here when he disappeared years ago.

            As he stood still, lightsabre in hand, admiring my every virtue, I asked in an alluring tone, “Now you’ve found me. What are your intentions?”

            “At the moment,” he sighed. His mouth watering with desire, “to look at you.”

            Michael stepped out into the doorway, nothing but a sheet around himself. Jesse’s heart skipped, his passions sank and blew away with the wind.

            “It’s alright. We’re family. Jesse Hunter, meet my cousin Michael Ericsson,” I almost laughed in spite of myself.

            Poor Michael was crushed, and the cynical little bitch I had become thought it quite humorous. I invited Jesse into the cabin to talk of home.

            I told him of his son, the New Republic, Luke’s Jedi Academy, all I knew of the world he left behind, but I left out the details of Amber, of Shadow, for he had no hope of returning. I controlled that Shadow now, he was no longer a part of it, and I wouldn’t let him go back.

            He told me of his own fall from light, his continuous struggle against the Dark Side. This conversation alone, just his presence renewed my faith in myself, the Force, Amber, everything, but one thing remained . . . Michael.

            After several hours Jesse Hunter boarded his X-wing and departed in friendship.

            I felt a ‘Force Scream.’ It was weak, as if it had rippled a great distance. It carried, with it, a feeling of familiarity. A presence I had felt before, a long time ago, so long ago I had all but forgotten it. My mother . . . my “real mother,” it had to be.

            Owen had felt it too.

            We all gathered a Julianson Enterprises California, in San Francisco. Titan was not yet fit to travel, and elected to stay behind. I removed the Kaiburr Crystal fragment from my lightsabre and Michael and I walked the Pattern within.

            Once at the center, we had the Pattern send us to the Shadow where the Force Scream initiated.

            We Trumped the others to us then looked around.

            It was a desolate dry planet, with three moons. The stars and moonlight shifted and shimmered as if the Shadow were unstable. A Shadow too close to Chaos for anyone’s comfort, even Julia. The Force plays nasty tricks on us, I was raised on a wet, arid, muggy planet, but I can’t seem to avoid deserts.

            The life web of this planet was weak, barely enough to even feel. The air was cold . . . the two smaller moons merged and became one. The air grew colder rapidly. We had to find shelter, quickly.

            We traveled to a village that had to be nearby. The Force gave me the ability to endure the cold, but even Julia with her flame-based powers, Michael with his sorcery, Belle and Valian’s shape shifting weren’t enough to keep us going for long. My dress had grown up around me, covering me like a thermal suit, and it was suffering in the extreme cold.

            The village was a greater distance away than we thought, but once there, we met an elderly woman with a nominal control and understanding of the Force. She told us of her encounters with the Lords of Chaos, of Lord Nor the Dark Jedi Master imprisoned at Castle Amber, and of Belledonna. She gave us food, shelter, and clothing to protect us against the cold. We thanked her and continued our search for the source of the Force Scream.

            Even Owen could feel it now as I did. It was here on this world, but still a great distance away.

            A chasm filled with electrified lava, possibly the source of Michael’s magical spell, stood in our path. It stretched from horizon to horizon, with no visible way across. Michael cast a flying disk spell and instructed us to climb aboard. Julia attached a mystic chain between the disk and her flaming motorcycle, pulled from Shadow, as any Amberite might pull an object sacred to them, such as a personal deck of Trumps, Lord Corwin’s sword Greyswandir, or my lightsabre.

            Julia mounted her motorcycle and rode it through the sky over the chasm, towing the disk behind her.

            Over the center of the chasm, a Logrus tendril reached up and grabbed Julia and her flaming motorcycle, from within the lava. Julia was engulfed and pulled into the electrified lava. Another tendril hit the disk, and it vanished.

            I grabbed onto my falling companions and attempted to telekinetically levitate us across the chasm. Valian assumed his Chaos form and swooped down taking one of us in each of his four arms. He flew so fast; we all passed out from the G-forces.

            Using the Force, I regained consciousness and put up a “Force Shield” around us protecting us from further effects of the G-forces and the tendrils attempting to pull us down.

            I used the Dark Side to create a Force Wind to help push us along. We soon cleared the chasm only to be faced with a fast moving, deadly storm.

            The storm was full of hurricane force winds, acid rain, and deadly lightning. I summoned a Force Storm, but only held it in place. We had to wait it out or go past it.

            Owen remembered a small cave at the edge of the chasm, our only hope for shelter. I knew the storm would erode much of the cliff, so we went, as deep, into the cave as we could. Our only light was my Jedi weapon.

            I stopped trying to hold back the storm and let it come. It washed over us in seconds, taking with it six meters of the cliff face and the cave. In its wake, it left a toxic permeation on the ground. Owen and Michael choked on the fumes.

            Valian and Belle shifted their lungs to breathe the toxins. I used the Force to control my breathing, then tried to expand my power to include Owen and Michael.

            Belle covered the opening of the cave by shape shifting into an air filter for the toxins. I relaxed.

            A pulsing of light and sound began. Slowly, very slowly, the air began to grow less toxic. It was Titan . . . technology over nature and time.

            This shadow had rendered Michael and Belle without magic, powerless. The Trumps were useless. Even the Pattern was difficult to use. Only the Force seemed to work here, and the Dark Side was decidedly easier and more seductive than ever.

            The sunlight shone through Belle the air filter. I turned off my lightsabre and removed the Crystal fragment. I began to walk the Pattern within, in hopes that I would have the power to get us out of this. In his own turn each followed me . . . Michael, Valian, even Owen.

            I reached the center and waited for the others. It had been harder to reach this time than even the real one in Amber, I was exhausted. I rested as I waited.

            Darkness . . . cold . . . anxiety, anger, fear . . . I could feel their emotions as they walked the Pattern. I could taste it. The draw was too strong to ignore. It began to fill me with power. I was feeding on their negative emotions. I wanted more . . . I gave into it!

            Michael stepped out into the center. This was no longer a path to Power over Shadow, it was mine alone, a Sith Temple bathed in the blood red light of the Crystal. Dazed and confused, he glanced around and asked, “Jess? What’s going on?”

            “Welcome sorcerer,” I said wickedly. “In a short while you and all your friends will call me Master. You wanted to learn about the Force? Kneel and surrender yourself to me!”

            “No!” He responded, “Jess, this is wrong. Don’t give in to it . . . ”

            “I said, KNEEL! You are now mine!”

            Caught off guard, and practically powerless in this Shadow of Chaos, Michael was soon reeling in pain as I twisted his will to mine.

            I could feel Owen approaching. I offered encouragingly, “Come, brother, you can make it. A few more steps, come on.”

            He was struggling. I had warped the integrity of the Pattern so much even Random would have difficulty with it. He knew it meant death to stop. I knew I needed him . . . his servitude as I did Michael’s. I could feel Valian behind him. Titan in the rear . . . his thoughts were to reach the center and find Belledonna. From where I stood, the Dark Jedi seemed a mere fledgling student by comparison.

            Owen crossed into the center of my Temple. I stood in the blood-red glow basking in the glory and power of the Dark Side. Michael was on his knees at my feet sobbing, “No more, please, no more!”

            “On your knees, brother,” I demanded. Owen glanced at Michael, then to me. He looked as if he was going to comply, then he hesitated, grabbed the lightsabre from my wrist . . . knocked me across the room . . . removed the crystal from it . . . dropped it on the floor and crushed it under the heavy heel of his boot . . . everything went black!

            I awoke from the nightmare, still in the cave. The Crystal fragment a few centimeters from my outstretched hand, as if I had dropped it. Dark, cold, lifeless as any gemstone, as any jewel that never knew the true power of the Force. Instinctively I replaced it in my lightsabre, but it was dead. My Jedi weapon, my symbol of power, my only true possession, was nothing more than a fancy glowrod.

            Valian sat talking with Belle near the mouth of the cave. Michael cringed in the corner, pathetically, muttering to himself. Owen, only a meter or so away, glared at me with burning hatred in his eyes, hand on the ivory dragon hilt of his sword. Titan was nowhere to be found.

            I knew full well what I had done, but I hardly felt remorse for any of it. The influences of the Dark Side still pulling at my ‘strings.’ I could not feel pity for Michael, or even care that Titan was gone.

            I knew where we were bound, a dead city. I attempted a Trump Sketch in the dirt floor, while Owen held my ‘glowrod.’ The Trump of course failed, like all the other efforts I had made in this Shadow.

            We had no choice but to travel under Valian’s power, protected by my force shield and Belle the air-filter. Once clear of the toxic fumes, Belle assumed her true Faerie form and flew alongside Valian.

            The plateau upon which the city sat came into view on the horizon. The evil influences withing could be felt even at this distance. It was too much for the Faerie to bear. She vanished into Shadow. If only, I had that innocence back.

            The tug of the Dark Side grew stronger as we neared the dead city. I could feel the emptiness, yet there was a spark deep within. The city was carved from the plateau itself. The architecture was a mixture of styles, but all carved from a single stone, all at once it seemed. There were no physical barriers in the doorways or windows, just open apertures, and it appeared none ever had been.

            The air was still. A disturbance, like someone “walking over your grave,” almost a cry for help . . . no, not help . . . a child begging to know ‘why?’

            I could feel her. Valian could hear her. Owen saw her as a ghostly apparition. Michael followed us blindly, pathetically, feeling only betrayal.

            The apparition led us to a dark foreboding structure in the center of the city . . . a Sith Temple, the same temple I created in the Crystal. Once inside we could see and hear her: A young girl no more than 10, no less than six years of age, wearing a white ceremonial robe. Her banshee like cry sending chills down our spines, “Why-y-y-y-y?”

            She stood near her physical remains.

            I used the Force to Farsee the past . . . travel back and view her fate . . . the fate of this city.

            Ten years ago, Shadow time, Mandor, Belledonna, and Darius Hunter came to this living, breathing, thriving city. They drained the life from everyone within the walls. The young girl was the last to die.

            I knew I had to cleanse this city and free the lost souls trapped within and cleanse myself in the process, but how? Alone I lacked the power, and the Crystal was dead. NO . . . not dead, drained!

            I took the lightsabre from my wrist and turned it on. I concentrated on the Kaiburr Crystal fragment within. I felt it, felt the power of the whole Crystal, I had damaged it. Wounded it with my desire, my dark half, now I would heal it. I transferred a piece of my life force into the shard I possessed.

            ‘Snap-hiss,’ my lightsabre ignited with life, the power of the Force flowed through it once more.

            I concentrated on creating harmony, a balance in the Force. I could feel all the trapped spirits within the city. I channeled myself through the Crystal. The feeling of anguish was replaced with peace. They were free.

            Two demons suddenly approached. Valian and Owen sprang into battle, but they could do them no harm. I summoned the Dark Side again, to control them, to make them attack each other. One grabbed Valian to use as a weapon against the other; I stopped this immediately. Finally, one killed the other and it turned on Owen. I convinced it we were false images left behind . . . it crashed through the wall in search of where we had gone.

            We continued on deeper into the temple. We entered a dimly lit chamber, where Owen and Valian were possessed by two demonic spirits. Owen turned to attack me, while Valian effortlessly ripped Michael’s throat out.

            I leaped out of sword range and managed to remain so. The out-of-control body of my brother hurled his katana and struck me in the side.

            Only the Force knows what caused their dispossession. My living silk dress grew into the wound like a bandage, as it always has since I took the Pattern in Amber. I turned to Michael. His wound was serious, barely alive. I had to try to save him. I passed out.

            When I regained consciousness Michael was barely conscious, Valian was gone, and Owen . . . behind a wall? No, not a wall, a hologram.

            On the other side of the holographic wall was a chamber lit by torches. A shrine to Princess Dierdre, tapestries and statuettes depicting her life lined the walls. Her body lay atop an altar.

            Tapestries chronicling Owen’s life and mine also hung on the walls. This was our birth mother, our connection to the royal blood of Amber.

            A strange compelling sensation came over me to transfer a portion of my life energy into the lifeless body. She awoke. A few brief moments of explanations and introductions, Dierdre rose and smashed the shrine, then led us out of the chamber.

            We came out in a ruined castle, not the temple, in the Courts of Chaos, Mandor’s castle. Michael and Valian soon joined us.

            Next we faced the tendrils of the Logrus itself. The guardian/keeper of the Logrus, Suhuy, sized us up, then insisted we join him for dinner and rest. As much as we despised the idea, we had little choice, actually less than that.

            I feel it necessary to point out that Suhuy bears an uncanny resemblance to the father of Amber, the mysterious Dworkin. I also found it odd that he knew all of us by name. I didn’t think we’d made that big an impact in the politics of Shadow.

            At dinner in the grand hall of the Castle of the Lords of Chaos, we met Mandor, Darius Hunter, Dara, and Merlin, son of Dara of Chaos and Corwin of Amber, along with many other prestigious members of the Courts. Most of those around us were not pleased with Suhuy, and only Dierdre was accepted with open arms. There was another presence lurking in the shadows, always out of sight, and psychically well protected against my Force enhanced probing.

            After dinner, we awoke suspended over a bottomless pit. Each of us bound to the wall by chains around our waists, wrists and ankles, even around our necks. The food, obviously had been drugged, only Dierdre avoided this fate.

            I began the painful Jedi trick of contorting, dislocating, softening the bones of my ankles, feet, wrists, and hands to escape. Michael cast his flying disk beneath us. Valian shape shifted out of his bonds. Owen began contorting his own body. Julia also hung there with us, and she like Valian shape shifted her way free.

            A Chaos demon stopped on the metal grate covering the pit and prepared to urinate down on us. Valian flew up to attack, and I used the Force to push up on the grate. The grate flew up knocking the demon unconscious. Finally, we were all free of our chains and Michael began lifting the disk. Once at the top we stepped off the disk and into a tunnel or corridor . . . hard to tell the difference in the Courts of Chaos.

            Damien Omega guarded the storage area that contained our personal things. Aided by a contingent of Chaos soldiers he held us in combat. I used the Force to create a whirlwind of flying objects as a distraction, careful not to intentionally harm anyone. Among the debris was my lightsabre and Trump deck, which I quickly retrieved and stored away.

            Having retrieved our personal belongings from a storage area, we raced out of the castle. We soon found ourselves staring over the edge of the Abyss. Using Julia’s Chaos Trumps we went back to Amber.

            Things in Amber were quiet for a month or two after that, almost too quiet. I was recovering from my depression, in fact except for my unholy desire for Michael, I was almost back to my old self again.

            I spent a great deal of time in the library reading Corwin’s Chronicles of Amber which had been written by a man named Roger Zelazny. There was even a rumor that Roger had been to Amber, maybe even was tucked away in one of the dungeons.

            Corwin’s tale told of the Patternfall War, which came about when Oberon disappeared and Eric, Michael’s father, had declared himself the rightful heir. Benedict of course was the eldest, but although no one knows just why was not in the running for the throne.

            There was even a partial collection of a series based on Merlin’s involvement with the family. I also found a book called, Roger Zelazny’s Visual Guide to Castle Amber, which is a remarkably accurate and detailed account of a tour led by Florimel.

            All of these books had been published on Shadow Earth and were taken for fiction. As someone once said, ‘Truth is stranger than fiction.’

            Perhaps someday I’ll find my journals of Amber published on some Shadow somewhere. Maybe they already have been, after all, everything is possible in Shadow. If they have been, they’ll eventually wind up here, all roads lead to Amber.

            King Random had been stabbed and left for dead. The Jewel of Judgment was gone. The Kaiburr Crystal was beyond reach. Rebma, the mirror image of Amber in the sea below Kolvir, was under attack.

            Titan under the control of Belledonna attacked Amber itself. I freed him from her control through the Force, and she was soon destroyed.

            The Elder Amberites, who had gone missing, were defending the Primal Pattern against Brand. The evil, twisted prince of Amber, thought to be dead all these years since the crowning of Random, had returned to finish what he started. He had become a kind of living Trump, and he had Random’s Jewel.

            Dierdre Trumped us to the Primal Pattern to help.

            We stood on a perfectly level area which appeared to be solid, unfractured rock-roughly oval in shape, a couple hundred meters along its major axis. Beyond its rightward jutting there was nothing-that is to say the land fell away in steep decent toward that particular sea.

            And, continuing, all three dimensions seemed to reassert themselves once more. The sun was a great orb of gold. The sky was a deeper blue than that of Amber, and there were no clouds in it. That sea was a matching blue, unspecked by sail or island. I saw no birds, and heard no sounds other than our own. An enormous silence lay upon this place, broken only by the sounds of battle between the elders, this day. In the bowl of my suddenly clear vision, the Pattern at last achieved its disposition upon the surface. I thought at first that is was inscribed in the rock, but as I drew nearer I saw that it was contained within it--gold-pink swirls, like veining in an exotic marble, natural-seeming despite the obvious purpose to the design. It looked as if someone had shaved the top off Kolvir at about the dungeon level, where the Pattern lies.

            This was the real Amber. The Primal Pattern first drawn by Dworkin, in his own blood.

            In the awe of our location and the speed at which the events occurred I can remember all the details . . .

            Julia rescued one of the Elders, by flying her motorcycle over the Pattern, which Brand had dropped over it from high above.

            I somehow secured the Jewel of Judgement from Brand. Finally he decided to spill his own blood on the Primal Pattern. He set one foot on the Pattern, and Valian yanked him off.

            Immediately, the sky began to darken directly overhead. But it was no cloud of water vapor which had begun to coalesce. Rather, it was a perfectly circular formation which had appeared, red at the center, yellow near the edges, turning in a clockwise direction. A sound like a single bell chime followed by the growl of a bull-roarer suddenly came to our ears.

            The roaring increased in volume and small lightnings began to play at the heart of the red thing above us. A rattling noise caught my attention at that moment, and I glanced downward to discover a purple griffin has slithered past and moved to interpose itself between us, all but Brand, and the loud red phenomenon. It crouched like a gargoyle, facing away from us, watching the spectacle.

            A funnel descended from the noisy formation-bright, flashing, wailing now, and tremendously fast. It touched Brand, and for a moment his outline expanded enormously, becoming increasingly tenuous in direct proportion to this effect. And then he was gone. For a brief interval, the funnel remained stationary, like a perfectly balanced top. Then the sound began to diminish.

            The trunk raised itself, slowly, to a point but a small distance-perhaps the height of a man-above the Pattern. Then it snapped upward as quickly as it had descended.

            The wailing ceased. The roaring began to subside. The miniature lightnings faded within the circle. The entire formation began to pale and slow. A moment later, it was but a bit of darkness; another moment it was gone.

            No trace of Brand remained anywhere I could see.

            I held the Jewel of Judgment before me. The temptation of walking the Primal Pattern with it was almost too great.

            Fiona demanded I hand it to her, refusing, I Trumped to Amber and returned it to the King.

            In reflection, it seems strange how seemingly unrelated things circle back upon one another. Brand had learned a long time ago; the Jewel of Judgment and the Kaiburr Crystal were both a part of the Eye of the Serpent. It was he, who sent Lord Darth Vader to find the Crystal all those years ago. He sent Belledonna after it. He was responsible for the Pattern-fall War and the most recent attempt . . . what other aspects of my life were shaped by the elders of Amber?

            I am beginning to understand a statement once made by Corwin of my mother, “I trust her like a brother.”

            By the Force I pray I never bring a child into this family of cutthroats, but even that is in the hands of the Pattern and Amber it seems.

            I did return to the Primal Pattern, unknown to the others, and I walked it using my Crystal. I felt as if I had the power to recreate the universe as I did so, perhaps I did, I don’t know.

            The Pattern was more than a series of lines on the floor which imbued us with power, it was almost alive. Or am I just dreaming again? Did it actually have a will of its own?

            Instead of returning me to the Amber I left, the first city of Amber, I found myself in a ruined castle, a Shadow of what might be or could have been. All possibilities exist in Shadow if one seeks them out.

             All the elders were dead, their bodies lying all around in the rubble.

            Rebma had survived somehow, Llewella still lived. Random was unaccounted for. The people of the City Amber held the royal family in contempt.

            I went to visit this Shadow’s version of my Aunt Llewella, in hope of discovering what had happened and possibly answer why I was here.

            She told me of a mysterious, moving, black fortress that came through and destroyed Kolvir. A young girl was reported to be held within, a young girl of royal blood. Her powers were being used to destroy the world.

            I asked to walk the Pattern in the dungeons below the castle as a stepping point to find this black fortress. Aunt Llewella agreed.

            Once inside the black fortress, I found Darius Hunter and a Chaos Demon using Joanna, Jonathan’s daughter by Corson of Mystique, to forge a path of destruction to Amber itself.

            I Trumped my companions to me, and together we destroyed the fortress.

            We took Joanna back to Amber, our Amber. I took the violet-eyed, auburn-haired, frightened ten-year-old before my Uncle, King Random.

            “Uncle Random, this is Joanna,” I stated. “She is the daughter of Jonathan. My proposal is this please allow Princess Dierdre to take her and raise her. She is the only elder with knowledge of the Force, which Joanna possesses, and it would give her a second chance to be a mother, the chance she was denied with Owen and myself.”

            Random agreed, and Dierdre thanked us for the opportunity. For the first time in my life, Dierdre hugged me and gave me a tender motherly kiss. I watched her take Joanna’s hand and lead her out of the room. Her long black hair, blending in with the elegant black gown, she wore, stopping just short of the silver girdle at her waist. My eyes filled with tears, why I’m not sure, perhaps I was thinking of what might have been.

            How much different would things be if I had been raised in Amber? Would I still desire to be worthy to be called Jedi? Or would I use my powers for my own gain?

            Rediscovering my homeworld of Mimban, with my new found control over Shadow, I felt a disturbance in the Force. A Force Wind . . . a dark power of the Sith . . . a Super Star Destroyer shifting Shadow?

            My companions were in danger. I removed a Trump I had recently completed from my deck, one which depicted all of us, possibly the most dangerous card ever drawn, and Trumped them all to me.

            The evil behind their peril, Prath, my personal nemesis. An alien student of the Force, I had almost forgotten loose in Shadow, no longer confined to this one.

            Belledonna, some time ago, had transported Titan’s lab to a Shadow near mine. Prath now had control of that lab, a very real technology that could be used against Amber.

            Valian and his brother Titan foolishly jumped, into the fire, without thinking of the consequences as usual. We lost contact with them.

            The rest of us set out on a Hellride to find them. Our journey ended back where we had found my mother, the place we had coined Sith World.

            Valian and Titan were being held in a detention cell, of a Super Star Destroyer, on the far side of a moon.

            Prath wasn’t alone. Another Dark Lord was with him, Damien Omega, my one time friend. Damien and I traded blows using the Dark Powers, finally I beat him, and we entered the ship.

            Valian and Titan had freed themselves and together my companions and I set out for the bridge to confront Prath himself.

            Prath held in his hand the LocNar, brain-pearl of the Serpent, but not for long. I took possession of it while Valian and the others distracted and attacked him.

            Pure unadulterated evil . . . absolute power . . . finally, I could have my revenge against Prath, and anyone else who . . .

            Gone! Valian had teleported it to the Abyss. I tried to call it back, but the pull of the pit was too strong. It fed on the LocNar, and the LocNar fed on it.

            However, the dark power I had called upon gave us the means to destroy Prath, or rather, his doppleganger. The real Prath taunted us over the intercom as he set the Super Star Destroyer for auto destruct.

            I called on the Force to teleport me to Ygg, the tree of life, the boundary marker set out by Oberon, the center of the Force as I had learned from the sapling planted by Michael.

            I had suffered from my confrontation with Prath, his life-drain and the ease which that Shadow gives in to the Dark Side, which I gave in to it. I could feel the pull of the Dark Side, drawing me nearer, calling like a lost companion, begging me . . .

            I sat at the base of the tree, naked with my back against it. I held the Kaiburr Crystal fragment in my hand, focusing through it, searching for the light. Begging the Force to heal me, body and soul. Wondering if there was a chance for redemption.

            As the grip of the Dark Side slipped away, I felt a presence, very near, and a tiny telepathic voice, “More power, mommy.”

            I was pregnant. Michael’s child, my daughter, and my second cousin since Michael was Eric’s son and Dierdre, my mother, was Eric’s full blood sister.

            I named her at that moment, Michaela Jesslyn, after both of us. I teleported home, to Mimban.

            I altered time . . . accelerated her growth, teaching her the way of the Jedi code. I had already exposed her to the full power of the Dark Side. I had to teach her about the light and responsibility of power.

            She was fourteen, a Jedi Knight and Sith Lord, as I had become. I only hoped she would maintain her dedication to the Jedi Code. Only one thing remained.

            I called Michael via Trump and asked him to go down to the Pattern Room, then Trump me through when he was inside.

            He did, and Michaela and I stepped through.

            Before he could ask or say anything, I said, “Michael, cousin, I thought you would like to be present when OUR daughter walked the Pattern.”

            He was speechless. I smiled wickedly, reveling in his dismay. I had told Michaela of her heritage and she wanted the power of the Pattern and knew the risk.

            I admired my daughter’s grace and beauty as she circled the room to the beginning of the Pattern. She stood 5' 7½” tall, with light brown hair, light blue eyes, a unicorn-head shaped birthmark on her left ankle, and a milky-white complexion. She had two hearts and, like her mother, no body hair. Michaela wore a short skirted black dress that hung off her right shoulder and a flowing black hooded cloak. A silver belt, a band on her left arm, and a plate shield on her right thigh were her only other adornments. Her lightsabre hilt, she carried in her hand, resembled the hilt of a two-handed broadsword. She stepped barefoot onto the Pattern . . .

            As the sparks began to engulf her, I wondered, what parts of her young life she saw in the Pattern’s strange method of revelation and where would she go upon reaching the center?

I knew not. Her life was her own now.

            She would have power over Shadow, power over the Force, and the free will to choose her own path.

            Michaela completed the Pattern and was gone.

            I went to the garden Michael had planted for me below my balcony. I sat in quiet peaceful meditation. Titan came up behind me, but until he spoke I paid him no heed.

            A storm rolled in. Rapidly, fiercely, with the intensity of a Force Storm, but more controlled, focused. Focused on Amber! The temperature dropped rapidly, four or five degrees per second.

            I could not focus on the source, even with the aid of my Crystal and the Pattern lens. My bio-mechanical hand offered only momentary protection, against the intense cold that overcame the Crystal. The synthetic flesh covering my hand crystalized and began to flake off. I returned the fragment to my lightsabre and teleported to my apartment.

            I discarded my lightsabre on a table where it froze. I felt Random attempting to hold back the storm with the Jewel of Judgment. I knew the only way to get to the heart of this present danger was the Pattern, so it was there I headed.

            Somewhere along the way down the long spiral stair, Valian teleported behind me in mid-stride. A lightning bolt from the storm struck my cybernetic hand, passing through the walls of the castle, rendering it useless. I called on the Dark Side, and channeled Force Lightning through it, giving myself limited use of my hand again.

            Valian panted, “Lightning, the storm at the Primal Pattern.”

            I teleported myself to the Pattern. What I saw reminded me of a Bogworm pinned to the ground, somewhere near its center. The Pattern flashed, blinked as if threatening to go out of existence.

            I teleported to the Primal Pattern.

            The tree of Ygg was encased in ice and frost. The Pattern was broken! I threw up a Force Shield around myself and the tree, barely noticing my living silk dress had shaped itself into a full, body-stocking. I began to use the Force to warm the air within the bubble I had created.

            The tree thawed, grew stronger, as did I. I reached out to find the source of the storm . . . a Super Star Destroyer, hovering over Amber. I was right this was a Force Storm, Prath was behind it.

            “Great Tree, forgive me,” I said as I hurled a Force Storm of my own back upon the Star Destroyer. Behind the storm I began an assault of Force Lightning bolts. Next I used the powers of the Sith to reprogram the electronic systems of the ship . . . including Titan’s enhanced technology. I instinctively began feeding on Prath’s hatred of me and the life around me in the valley of the Primal Pattern.

            A focused attack against Prath, two Force Lightning bolts . . . one through the bridge of his warship, the other through him. I reached out to crush his brain telekinetically, but he stepped into an area shielded by a Ysalimari . . . the only thing in all of Shadow, my shadow, known to block the Force completely.

            A creature native to the planet Myrkr. A world, which I might add, had been recently devastated by Prath. The world from which Oberon had taken the first sprig of Ygg, but I had control over that Shadow’s destiny . . . I could rebuild it.

            If I could not use the Force against him, I would use it to bring his ship down around him!

            He was dead? They had killed him, Valian and Titan, I could feel their triumph through the life bond I created awhile back.

            The tree was safe, temperatures were returning to normal as quickly as they had dropped. Prath was gone, or at least this doppleganger, but the Pattern was broken. The last time this had happened, it almost destroyed everything.

            It had to be repaired, but only by walking the Pattern with the Jewel of Judgment could that be done.

            Or with the Kaiburr Crystal? The Pattern must be remade in MY IMAGE . . . none could stop me! Amber was rightfully mine!

            I summoned my lightsabre from Amber, and removed the Crystal. I stepped onto the Patterns . . . the Primal Pattern before me and the virtual Pattern of the Crystal.

            I don’t know how deep into the Patterns I was before Valian stepped on behind me. He tried to use his psyche to focus through my Crystal to stop me.

            With a passing glance, I severed his connection to my crystal, severed the life bond forever. He could not stop me.

            Michael teleported to the center of the Pattern, using his fragment of the Kaiburr Crystal, on the end of his staff Escrima, which he never had explained getting, began retracing the original image of the Pattern the end to the beginning. The lightning strokes and the breaks were nearer the third veil than the second, which I was approaching, he would reach them first.

            Valian was closing in on me.

            “Valian, Michael, LEGANT!” I shouted. Their concentration was broken but not enough. Michael cast a spell and the Force was gone to me. Severed, beyond my reach, for now.

            I knew if I completed my quest I could find it along the way. And in the process rid myself of two opponents to the throne.

            It became a psychic duel between me, the Pattern, the Crystal, and Michael, with Valian pushing up from behind. I would regain an instant’s control of the Force; Michael would knock it down. I was fighting a losing battle, but I refused to surrender.

            Michael had repaired the broken sections of the Pattern, and made himself intangible, allowing me to pass through him as we crossed paths. I had my chance, a momentary lapse in his defenses as we crossed on the narrow path, I could use the Force now to destroy him . . . but I was too weak, instead I drew upon his life force to heal myself.

            I pushed through the final veil, the center of the Pattern, home!

            Valian was right behind me. My Stormtroopers assaulted him, but his natural armor was too strong for blasters, the laser bolts bounced off him.

            I was exhausted, I fell unconscious.

            Not realizing it, my true nature had actually restored the Pattern, but I still felt dirty, the Dark Side still blackened my spirit. Was it a dream? No I was back at the tree. Or had I ever left it?

            “This is the last time I cleanse you, Jessica,” Ygg said to me. “You have called upon me too many times.”

            “I saved your life! I saved Amber and all life in Shadow, the Pattern . . . and you dare!” I said angrily. “I’ve only asked your help once, the first time, the sapling did it on its own!”

            “Corwin’s Pattern remains and there part of me grows with it,” Ygg continued. “Balance would still be maintained.”

            “What choice did I have? No power in Amber could stop Prath, only me, only by using his own powers against him!”

            “You had none. And this IS the last time.”

            I woke beneath the tree, fully clothed, my lightsabre on my wristband as usual. The Primal Pattern was whole. I was no longer under the influence of the Dark Side, but . . .

            Years ago, when he’d murdered that young girl, Silisity, Prath said, “One day I will turn you to the Dark Side . . . ” He was right.

            “A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack,” a wise Jedi master once said.

            No Jedi, save me, ever faced Prath. None ever walked Shadow as a Duchess of Amber, and none ever will. I’m no Jedi. I have the knowledge, the Power, but not the discipline.

            It is said that if a fallen Jedi is confronted by another he can be brought back to the Light, but I don’t have that luxury. There are no Jedi to pick me up when I fall. Now I don’t even have Ygg.

            Between the combined talents of my relations, my friends, could they create something that

could substitute for the wise ancient master, I wonder? An amulet, an earing, anything that could snap me back the way Skywalker once did Omega? The way he did me once? But it would have to be something that would start to work instantly until the threat is gone.

            Or should I go home and leave Amber forever?

            I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but I remember him, the vampire. It’s too dark to see clearly, but I’m chained to a wall. I’m too weak to contort my body to escape. My only chance is to attempt a Trump call. It is said a Trump Artist can make contact by memory . . . its time to test that power, before he comes back. My only hope is my Life Bond Trump, the one I made of all of us.

            I could use the Dark Side to escape, but . . . he’s coming . . . “Michael, Valian, Owen, Titan, Belle, Julia . . . help me. Hear me.”

            He took me. First lapping at my clitoris to get my “blood flowing,” then he bit into my upper thigh, into my femoral artery. I could feel his emotions as I fell into the rapture. To him the artery had a robust, full-bodied taste, a lovely main course. The flow was strong, but not too strong. My oxygen-rich artery was almost intoxicating to him. He wanted all that I had . . . power over Shadow . . . power to rule Amber.

            He dared not kill me for even the blood of Amber would fade, but he would make me part of his herd or even a ghoul. He had not yet decided my fate . . . to keep me as a source of power or to make us bonded by blood and mutually dependent on one another.

            I hoped my cry for help reached out . . . I was going unconscious again . . . the ecstacy . . . the rapture . . . my life to his . . . take me master . . .

            His name suddenly almost on my lips . . . by the Force, it can’t be . . . ooh . . . sweet ecstacy . . .

            When I regained consciousness, darkness still all around, I thought aloud, “Had I dreamed it?”

            The dry, raspiness of my voice was almost as horrifying as my realization, that Lord Nor, the Dark Jedi imprisoned in Amber since we first set out in search of Jonathan, was not only free, but a vampire. What’s worse, I was now his slave.

            As my eyes adjusted to the sudden blinding light, of course any light would be at this point, I saw Michael and Valian. They had heard me, and apparently forgiven me for what I had done to them. They released me from the chains at my wrists and lowered me to the ground.

            Julia had found my dress and lightsabre in Shadow with her Logrus tendrils. Apparently during my absence she had acquired a new status among the Courts of Chaos and been allowed to walk the Logrus, which gives Chaosites similar powers to the Pattern.

            The light I saw came from Michael’s staff Escrima, from the Kaiburr Crystal fragment, which was giving the shape shifting staff a life of its own. Soon it would leave its master, and travel shadow on its own via the living Pattern in its very being. This was a foresight I elected not to share with Michael, he might think I had something to do with it, after all only he and I possessed fragments of the Kaiburr Crystal, aside from the Jewel of course.

            Suddenly we were standing before an unknown Pattern, at least unknown to me, Valian instinctively began to walk it, as if drawn to it. There was a figure already on the twisting curves of light, Merlin, Prince Corwin’s son. I realized this must be Corwin’s Pattern, the other Primal Pattern. Fiona was there, too. But why were we here? Wait, Prince Corwin, in trouble?

            Abruptly, as if by Trump, my companions, all but Owen, and I found ourselves in a dead, more precisely an undead city. There was no life immediately around us, at least not in the sense I understand life, not for long anyway.

            The air was swimming with Man-o-war like creatures, which fed on the brains of the living. A black ooze covered much of the ground, buildings, walls, devouring almost everything it touched, reanimating humanoid tissue as a kind of zombie.

            Magic, Trump, the Pattern, the Kaiburr Crystal, even the Force have little power in this Shadow. Merlin and Julia were still able to employ the Logrus to some degree, but we were still trapped.

            Technology still worked, my lightsabre functioned as would any other, but without the “warm fuzzy feeling” of the Crystal. Titan’s armor functioned normally, if only we had Owen we might stand a chance. Owen was our generation’s answer to Benedict, a combat master.

            Lord Corwin and a small band of humanoids, raced toward us, battling the undead, zombie things.

            They came from everywhere, the mummified corpses of the once living inhabitants of this world, almost as if it were an infectious disease, rising to walk again to make others share their fate.

            “Father,” Merlin called, “over here!”

            Corwin and his dwindling number rendezvoused with us. He ordered us to follow him to a troop sized shuttlecraft. We boarded with all the surviving humanoids and blasted off into space.

            We docked the shuttlecraft in the hanger of a warship called Emprise, the last warship under control of the living. The Emprise under the command of Lord Corwin of Amber, led a rag tag fleet of ships in search of the mythical planet Valhalla. During our flight from the surface to the Emprise, Lord Corwin explained the situation as this: this fleet contains all the known survivors so far of the growing forces of the “Horrors” and we were apparently in a shadow of his Pattern, escape from which even he can’t find. Valhalla seems to be the only way out, if we can survive long enough to get there.

            Our next stop was a hyperspace jump to an agriculture world. The planet itself was devoid of human life; however, on the orbital space station, two humans were trapped near the central core. Titan, Valian, and I took a shuttlecraft to the station to rescue them.

            We managed to secure a freighter docked at the station from the Horrors occupying it by dumping them into space, and blasted the central core destroying the station.

            We piloted the freighter to one of the abandoned cities, and began to load supplies from a warehouse into the cargo bay.

            Michael, Merlin, and I searched the city’s libraries for any clues to the mysterious Valhalla. Michael found one obscure record in an old, dusty, book. The book was badly water damaged, and broken at the spine, but it contained a starchart with Valhalla marked on it in Thari. This was the final piece of information Corwin needed. All we needed now was fuel to reach it.

            Back in space en route to rendevous with the fleet, the loadmaster became infected by the Horrors and we almost lost everything. Titan and Valian forced him into an airlock and blew him out into space.

            The food and supplies were distributed among the other ships in the fleet, as far as they would go.

            Our next jump was to Carrillon, a planet known for its fuel refineries. An armed resistance met us at Carrillon, not the Horrors, but a new race of creatures that resembled horned demons from a Shadow Earth fairy tale.

            Valian, Julia, and I led the ground assault on the mine and refinery, while Titan, Merlin, Michael, and Corwin defended the fleet against the DEMON WARSHIP.

            On the ground, we were losing the battle. Suddenly, as if in answer to a prayer, Owen and Belle appeared. While Owen took over command of the army, Valian, Belle, and I made an attempt to lead the mining slaves in a revolt against their captors. Among them we discovered a man called MegaForce, he possessed powers rivaling Titans, but without a battlesuit. The demons had placed a device on him which prevented the use of his powers. We managed to remove it during his release.

            The freighter was landed, loaded and returned to the fleet, with the aid of MegaForce. The fuel was distributed to all the ships in our fleet. Repairs that could be made were completed on all ships.

            The course was set. Our last jump, Valhalla, but what lay ahead? It wasn’t a short hop and hyperspace has a way of creating mishaps on older ships. Hell, some of these damn things wouldn’t even be used for spare parts in my home Shadow, and we’ve got ships almost 2000 years old chasing stars.

            Owen and Belle were with us now, perhaps, we had a chance, a slim one.

            Long space flights can be extremely tedious. After all how many card games can you play? How many drunken fighter jocks can you sleep with and how many can you refuse? With limited rations and even less variety, even eating gets boring. Space is no place for a Jedi like me, who likes to run barefoot and naked though forests and jungles just to become closer to the Force.

            Halfway to Valhalla, when suddenly from behind us comes a force of destruction. It was a kind of storm in hyperspace that we couldn’t scan through or around. It was gaining speed and closing on the fleet. Our only hope was to drop out of hyperspace and wait for it to pass.

            We located a planet near the point where we dropped out of hyperspace. The planet was devoid of Horrors and civilization, an oasis in the desert.

            My companions and I led a survey team to the surface. The planet was beautiful. Lush, green, rolling plains in a valley by a lake. There was no sign of the Horrors or any other inhabitants upon our arrival. This would be almost an ideal spot to allow our people to take a breather from space travel and wait out the hyperspace storm.

            A buzzing sound rose from the horizon. The sky grew dark with a swarm of migrating locusts devouring everything in their path. We dashed into the shuttlecraft, just as they swarmed over us. They were enormous, almost the size of small dogs.

            Communication with the fleet was impossible. After an hour the swarm passed. The shuttle was damaged, but not severely. In the wake of the swarm, they left behind an ideal picnic ground for our space weary travelers.

            We continued our survey of the area. A treacherous climb up a cliff, overlooking the lake, took us to a cave. Inside we discovered a tribe of bear-like creatures, reminiscent of Wookie-sized Ewoks. I relayed our peaceful intentions to their leader using a dialect of Wookie and Ewok, created on the spot.

            They were willing to share their land and provisions with our travelers, which I informed them would not be necessary, but the offer was very generous and appreciated. The leader insisted my companions and I at least share in a meal with them. We agreed.

            During our meal of grains, honey, and some exotic meats that reminded me of roasted Bantha (yuk), their leader cautioned us of the Ygsogoth living in the lake below. Almost as if summoned, the Ygsogoth attacked stretching its tentacles up from the lake and into the cave.

            Titan and Valian began attacking it beneath the surface of the lake, while Julia, Owen and I hacked at the tentacles from the cliff face. It turned into a long grueling battle. Valian was forced into a primal shape shifting frenzy. Titan was running low on power. Owen was covered in ooze from the things wounded tentacles, as was I. Julia attacked from her flying motorcycle, virtually exhausted. Finally, it vanished, defeated.

             We contacted the Emprise and told Lord Corwin it was safe to let our people down a few at a time.

            The sight of the children running and laughing again was beautiful, the most beautiful thing I had seen since arriving in this vile Shadow.

            Their parents frolicking alongside them. Teens and adults enjoying the simple pleasures of a day in the park. The Horrors we fled almost forgotten on this near paradise. The cave dwellers even came down to join us.

            The crew of the Emprise left behind, awaiting their turn on shore leave, monitored the storm. It had stopped, waiting for us to return to hyperspace and destruction.

            We devised a radical one shot plan for escape, a Trump Gate, a sketch to my home Shadow. Lord Corwin, Merlin, Michael, Fiona, and I linked our minds together, in a way only those with the Blood of Amber can, and I began to sketch in the air using my lightsabre as a pencil.

            I drew a scene of a forest outside the capitol city of New Alderaan. It was working. The scent of the grass and trees began to waft through the gate on a gentle breeze. The sounds of the city carried to our ears on the same breeze.

            We began to migrate our people through the gate. The scene reminded me of the Shadow Earth tale of the Exodus.

            The storm suddenly broke out of hyperspace and began devouring the planet. I stepped through the gate to stabilize it. My powers were far greater on the other side. Lord Corwin was the last through, but with him came a piece of the storm.

            Using my control of this Shadow’s destiny, I opened up a wormhole in time and space, sending the storm elsewhere, another Shadow. We were safe . . . for now.

            The people entered into the city, to begin a new life. Those of us born to power Trumped to Amber, but it wasn’t our Amber.

            Valian had been ordered into exile. Benedict had both of his arms again. Random had killed Julian and destroyed Forest Arden. Aside from ourselves, Gerard was the only other member of the royal family alive.

            Random floated over the center of the Pattern meditating on the Jewel of Judgment, attempting to undraw the Pattern. Valian teleported to the center to confront him. I tried using my fragment of the Crystal to undo the damage already done.

            Benedict made an effort to stop us. Titan and Owen fought him back. In truth, they killed him, this was definitely not our Amber. Gerard came to stop us and they held him off.

            I reached the center of the Pattern, but nothing had changed, except Random was gone. I teleported to the Primal Pattern. Random was there.

            Valian had retrieved the entire Kaiburr Crystal from wherever Benedict had hidden it. I took it from him, placed my shard in its place, and summoned all the missing fragments from Shadow, even the Jewel of Judgement.

            I walked the Primal Pattern from the center out, this time with the complete Jewel of Judgment, Kaiburr Crystal, Eye of the Serpent, whatever you want to call it. I would restore the order that was Amber.

            Mandor and a horde of Chaos demons came to stop me. They too were held back by my companions. As I walked the Pattern, I learned the identities of my parents. I was not born of one child of Oberon, but two, Dierdre and Brand. Brand had raped his half-sister while she was under a spell. This knowledge explained a few things about my brother Owen and myself. He inherited mother’s warrior fierceness and talent . . . I inherited the Force and my father’s gift for treachery.

            Legend has it, if one traces the Pattern using the Crystal, that any, one wish made will come true . . . unfortunately I chose the wrong wish.

                        “I wish Amber and all Shadows of this Pattern be restored to the balance before the events leading up to this throne war,” I shouted. A wise man once said, ‘be careful what you wish for.’

            My wish worked, but it was then I realized we were still trapped in the Shadows of Corwin’s Pattern. We stood in the great hall of Castle Amber, and Mandor was giving Merlin’s benediction. I decided to warn Random of the events to come, suddenly, we were back with Lord Corwin and the fugitive star fleet.

            The storm was approaching us, the first time. This time, however, it was smaller. We could avoid it in hyperspace, but what of the Bear-people? It seems only I remember the previous events, the effects of the Crystal and the Pattern? Should we stop or continue to Valhalla?

            Lord Corwin decided we would continue. If all went well at Valhalla, all this would be but a memory.

            Valhalla, finally, we arrived. A single city at the foot of a mountain, reminiscent of Kolvir, was the only sign of civilization.

            Lord Corwin led the Amberites on a reconnaissance mission of the city. MegaForce came along because of his extraordinary powers.

            The city was walled, with a single locked gate. The architecture was Greco-Roman. Once past the gate, we found no signs of life within the city. Titan’s scanners picked up humans in one of the buildings.

            The entrance of the building was barred by a stone door, with no apparent hardware. MegaForce smashed through the door without effort, or stopping to knock. I asked the others to wait outside while I walked in, seeing myself as the least imposing of our contingent. There were no visible signs of life, but I could feel them, something of the Force remained here at Valhalla.

            “You’ve no reason to fear us,” I called out. “I apologize for the rudeness of my brethren. We mean you no harm.”

            A nondescript man stepped out of the shades and said, “I know you Jessica of Amber. There is a prophecy of travelers from afar that will bring the destruction of our way of life. Their names are: Corwin, Fiona, Michael, Titan, Valian, Owen, Belle, and Jessica of Amber; also Merlin and Julia of Chaos. Yes, we have reason to fear you and reason to ignore you.”

            “How can this be?” I asked.

            “It is said that you will come to Valhalla fleeing from the Horrors of the Ancient Ones. You will enter the tower, and complete the great design which will return you home. That in turn will destroy all that remains.”

            “I am sorry,” I sighed sincerely. “I wish there were another way.”

            “The path to the tower lies behind the city. We cannot stop you, go quickly that we may soon face our destiny.”

            We climbed the treacherous, narrow path up the side of the mountain, a path effortlessly compared to the winding road from the shore to Castle Amber on Kolvir by Lord Corwin. At the top, a tower rose fourteen stories.

            The doors to the tower opened, too, easily. The foyer revealed a sitting room to one side, a spiraling staircase to either side of a set of double doors. The whole set up was too inviting.

            With a little effort I managed to open the balanced stone doors, revealing a dining room, conveniently set with a place for each of us. The doors closed as the last of us entered the chamber.

            Michael propped himself in a corner. Belle, Corwin, MegaForce, Fiona, Merlin, Valian, Julia, and Owen sat at the table. The plates and glasses before them suddenly filled with their favorite foods and drinks. The sights and smells reminded me that I, too, was hungry, but I hungered more for a way out of this Shadow.

            Never in my life had I felt so alone in a crowd. The Force was so weak in this Shadow I almost felt as if I were trapped in suspended animation or a very deep hibernation. Everything was out of balance. There had to be a way out.

            The doors we had entered were not going to reopen, at least not for me. Three recessed doors hidden in the walls revealed a kitchen, apparently occupied by spectres or some magical spell; a library or drawing room filled with any book one might desire and a terrace overlooking the cliff.

            I stepped out onto the terrace. Directly above was another terrace. Using my skill at acrobatics and summoning all the help I could from the Force, I leaped onto it. There I found the same cushioned stone benches, the same fountain, the same door opening into the dining room where companions sat eating.

            Valian flew up from the terrace below. Together we looked up at another terrace above, then at the one below. He took me in two of his four arms and we flew upward to the top of the tower. It seemed as if we flew past eighty terraces, all identical, before we reached the 14^th floor, the top of the tower.

            A lavish swimming pool, a changing shed with a separate chamber for men and women waited for us on the roof. I felt an urge to drop my dress and my lightsabre and dive in. But this whole setup was not right, and I wanted to go home . . . where the Force was alive.

            We found the access door and reentered the tower. The spiraling stairway seemed to take as long as the flight up. When we reached the bottom, we found ourselves in the same foyer, as I expected. I searched for the center of the tower, for the controlling element, using all the control of the Force I could muster . . . almost calling upon the Dark Side to boost my power, but not.

            A hidden, recessed door . . . another stair, this one winding down deeper into the mountain. Kolvir all over again. I entered the dark passage. An occasional torch and my lightsabre lit our way down the long spiral.

            At the bottom, a dark chamber exactly like the Pattern room of Amber. The power was there, but the lines were invisible. I removed the Crystal from my lightsabre, it glowed like it had when I repaired the Primal Pattern. Valian had walked Corwin’s Pattern upon entry into this world, he knew its layout. Together we linked minds and walked the Crystal and Corwin’s untraced Pattern. As we traced the undrawn lines, they appeared in our wake.

            Titan, Michael, and Julia entered the chamber while we were tracing the lines into the floor. As we walked, I could feel the balance returning to this shadow. I saw Valian’s life unfold before me, learning new things about my cousin I never knew. He was not Julian’s son, but Corwin’s by Julian’s consort. In turn, he saw my life through my eyes.

            Once the Pattern was completed, Michael Trumped Corwin and the others to our location. Michael handed Corwin the piece of the Kaiburr Crystal from his staff. Corwin took the Crystal and walked the Pattern to bring it to life.

            As he completed the Pattern, we realized Valian had vanished, along with Merlin and Fiona. I used my Pattern wish to call them back. A sense of danger overcame me as I felt Valian approach. “Valian, STOP!” I cried out, “Will yourself back!”

            Merlin and Fiona were badly injured. Valian was trapped at the center of the Logrus, only his shape shifting kept him alive. Julia was his only chance. She Trumped herself to the Logrus and returned to us with Valian in tow. She had successfully traversed the Logrus and now employed its power over Shadow.

            That gave us an idea, if Julia a blood creature of Chaos could take the Logrus, could Belle, a blood creature of Brand, possibly take the Pattern? Before she could decide for herself to take the risk, Titan grabbed her with his tractor beam and pulled her onto Corwin’s Pattern, now she had one choice, walk or die. She succeeded. We were all instantly teleported to our Amber, but none of us will trust Titan the same way again . . . especially not Belle.

            We were home, but now we wanted a vacation. I suggested we take a long sea voyage through Shadow, a seldom used mode of travel. A time consuming and relaxing way to escape the politics of reality, after all the once Crowned-Prince Corwin was loose in the Shadows of Amber again.

            We hired and outfitted a barkentine for our journey. Our excursion began by following the current south by southwest. Two day down the coast we turned away from the “Golden Circle” into the unexplored open waters to the west. A school of dolphins splashed playfully through the water in the wake of our bow.

            An old salt (sailor) paused, looking over the rail, and beamed a wry grin at me and said, “‘Tis a sign o’ good fortune t’ave the little darlins’ dance for ye ship like that.” With a wink he turned and stomped away. Indeed he was right, for three days the crew was in good spirits and the winds favorable.

            Just before dusk on the fourth day, however, we barely managed to avoid a sunken atoll. The next morning we encountered a ship flying tattered sails. A ship crewed by skeletons, ghouls, and captained by an undead mage of notable power.

            She closed for battle. The spectral vessel overtook us at remarkable speed. Owen leaped aboard her, sword drawn. Valian and Julia soon joined him in the melee. Michael began casting counter-spells against her captain. I held the boarding party off with my lightsabre, while my crew slashed at them with rapier and cutlass. Titan fired his pulse bolts at the ship, while Belle hovered above us all shouting warnings as best she could.

            The spectral ship burst into flames. A well-placed spell from Michael had destroyed her captain and set her aflame in the process. As she burned and sank we pulled away, well out of boarding range.

            A couple of days later, we encountered a small verdant island with a good harbor. The island offered fresh water, and fruit trees. We lingered a few days of the uninhabited, but lushly grown island to resupply. Then set sail with the currents.

            The next day a great storm broke out, an unnatural storm. The ship rocked. The waves swelled. The rain came down in sheets and buckets. The crew washed overboard . . . a dragon?

            I awoke in a small, sparsely furnished room. I was naked beneath a blanked, with a padded wooden block behind my head. The decor was vaguely reminiscent of Japan, ancient Japan of Shadow Earth. A small bowl of white rice, a small raw fish, and a bowl of tea greeted me as I woke. Shortly before I finished the small meal, a young girl, no older than 12-years maybe, knelt at my door bearing a basket containing my dress, which had altered to blend in with the style of this Shadow as usual.

            I would love to have seen the face of the person who tried to mend it after the ship wreck as it repaired itself.

            The girl greeted me in an ancient dialect of Japanese. I still find it astonishing how every language is a distortion of Thari, and how easily Amberites can comprehend and even converse in virtually any language. I responded to her in kind, in her own tongue.

            I asked her for a bath, which seemed to surprise her more than my ability to speak her language. She told me to wait and left the room. She returned with a robe of fine silk decorated with gold flowers on blue. I bowed and put it on. She picked up the basket containing my dress and insisted I follow her.

            The water was hot, but not as hot as the Japanese baths of Shadow Earth. I enjoyed having someone wait on me again, the same young girl stayed and washed me. She was a very polite and informative conversationalist as well. When I was finished, she dressed me and showed me to the small garden of the house. There I waited for my companions.

            Owen, Julia, Michael and Valian had all met with similar experiences as I later found out when the joined me. Julia had taken on Japanese features, as did Valian upon awakening, to blend in. Experience with ancient cultures had taught us the better you blend in the better you get along. And if this was a xenophobic Japanese Shadow, the more we fit in the better off we were going to be.

            My companions had all come looking for me, I thought they would, but honestly, in the tranquility of the culture around me, I all but forgot them.

            I had apparently been placed in the most well off household due to the nature of my clothing and other adornments; Owen next due to his sword I assume; the others were in roughly the same category. However, none of us had our personal belongings, except our clothes, of course they were probably close by. It was obvious by their (the native people) reactions to me, they considered me royalty, although somewhat lower class than their own, typical neo-Japanese culture.

            A small group of armed men came to escort us to the Jito, or estate manager, of the village. The leader of the group, a samurai named Heishiro, demanded, “Onushi ittai doko kura kitanoda? Doku no kuni no monoda?”

            That is: “Where do you come from? What’s your nationality?”

            “I am Owen, duke of Amber. They are my family and friends. Where are the others? Our ship?”

            “No other survivors. The ship was lost with all other hands,” Heishiro answered. “The Jito demands to see you. Come with us!”

            “We are lords of Amber, and demand some respect,” Owen continued. “Where are our weapons?”

            “The Jito, Yukinari-san, has your weapons. And I care not if you are kings of your own country, here you are alive by the will of Yukinari-san.”

            I know my brother wanted to strike out, but he thought better of it, even though he could have taken the rude samurai. Unarmed though, I doubt he could have taken the entire escort. We followed our escort to a large house on a small hill.

            Inside Yukinari’s house we were surrounded by his entire samurai entourage. I drew upon all my knowledge of court etiquette and Japanese culture, bowed lower than I would even to my uncle, King Random.

            “Lord Yukinari-san, I am Jessica, Duchess of Amber,” I began. “We wish to thank you for the hospitality of your village. Our ship crashed on your shores, we seek opportunity to serve you and make amends for the trouble we have caused.”

            The Jito said nothing, but sized us up as one might a potential opponent. “Milord, there is the question of two other members of our family and our personal belongings,” I continued.

            “Your weapons are secured here in this house,” Yukinari assured me. “Your ship is lost, and there are no other survivors.”

            A disturbance outside the gate drew even the most sincere samurai’s attention. Complete with sound effects, Titan came down an invisible flight of stairs. His armor had been transformed into samurai armor, in fact he looked like a mythical hero from Shadow Earth Japanese mythology. Even the Jito, bowed and scraped before the divine figure descending from the sky.

            “Titan, dear cousin,” I said sarcastically, and in Thari, “nice to see you finally. These kind people told us you were dead. Are you?”

            Before he could answer, the ground began to shudder, but not from an earthquake. Footsteps of a gargantuan creature coming out of the water were the cause of the trembling. The terrifying scream-roar that issued from its throat, the overall appearance, I could almost swear we were on the set of a Toho Pictures Gojira movie (a.k.a. Godzilla).

            Titan, the divine god of wind as some of the samurai were calling him, flew off to attack the creature. The rest of us ran for the gate, stopping at the guardhouse to pick up our weapons, to join the attack.

            Convenient? It was the most likely place to find them. Yukinari had said they were secured within the walls of his house, just not where. Wonderful thing about Shadow manipulation powers of the Pattern.

            Titan blasted the 100-meter tall gargantua with his high-tech weapons. Julia rode a flaming horse, weilding her deadly chains, and pummeled the creature. Valian changed into his Chaos form and attacked it with sword, fist and spike. Owen and I had to stay out of the way and try to coordinate the evacuation of the village.

            The creature responded exactly like the Toho Movie Monster: breathing fire and crushing everything in its path.

            Finally we drove it back into the sea. I used the Force in an attempt to convince it to return to its lair. During this attempt I sensed it was somewhat intelligent.

            The Jito informed us the creature came from “The Isle of the Gargantuas” off the coast of the island country of Wa.

            He also declared us heroes and welcome guests of his village. We were given the rest of our personal belongings and allowed to roam the village armed, of course I would love to see them try to disarm us.

            That evening Yukinari, at an elaborate ceremony, made us all samurai. Following that ceremony, Owen spoke of the rude behavior of Heishiro at the house of my hosts. Lord Yukinari asked Owen what discipline he would have for the uncouth behavior. A test of skill at arms, a duel for lack of other words, to teach the samurai not to judge all his opponents upon the color of their skin or perceived culture was Owen’s request.

            The samurai was given leave to choose any weapons or fighting style and granted no dishonor if he defeated Owen. Of course Owen won. Heishiro begged to become Owen’s servant or to die at Owen’s hand. Owen chose to take the samurai as a retainer.

            Each of us was granted a house in the village, and a number of retainers. The life of a samurai is a simple one in my opinion, but this is based on an Amber point of view, there are many who would disagree with me.

            Basically we could come and go at will. We could kill anyone beneath our station for any reason, even if it was just to see how well they died. We need only answer to the local lord or his superior, and for an Amberite only as long as we deemed it suitable.

            A few weeks later reports of a mysterious ghost castle and a group of raiders caught our attention. We decided to investigate.

            The castle was supposedly located on an island off shore and could only be reached during the rising of the moon, similar to Tir-Na Nog’th, when the stone bridge appeared. We arrived at the sight of the bridge a few minutes before moonrise and saw a ruined castle across the water on the island. The beginnings of the bridge lay before us. As the moon climbed out of bed into the sky the bridge and the castle began to take shape.

            We faced many dangers in the castle including ghouls, paper warriors, shades, and mad mages. Along the way we acquired seven needle-sized swords and a pendant in which they could be inserted.

            In the depths below the castle we encountered a Krakentua creature similar to one of the manifestations of the horrors from Corwin’s Pattern. This fearsome creature guarded a jade chest, which we acquired but did not open.

            We began our journey back to the village we were all but in charge of. As we did, I got that familiar feeling like we were being watched.

            Our path crossed with a raiding party and a beggar seeking the treasures we carried. We dispatched them with ease. Still the feeling persisted, by what or by whom I was unsure, but it was there.

            We were only a few kilometers away from our village when we met another beggar. He demanded the chest, the brain pearl within Titan’s armor and the black dragon-headed katana Owen bought in Amber before our departure.

            Owen, the arrogant son of Dierdre, refused to hand over anything without knowing, “Why? By what right do you demand anything of us?”

            “NONE of them belong to you. The chest contains an evil not yet timed to be released. The samurai whose destiny to fight it is yet born. Twenty-two suns from this will she come into the world of Kara-Toyo. Twenty-three revolutions from then will she face the evil within that Jade Chest you bear.

            If they are released now then you interfere in her destiny, and will spell the ultimate doom for that which you see around you,” the beggar responded.

            “ How do you know so much?” Michael asked. “Who are you?”

            “Who is this samurai not yet born?” inquired Titan.

            “Her name is Kara Seymour, of the Emerald Dragon,” the beggar answered. “I am Incognito, lord of KenLung, protector of Kara-Toyo, and messenger of the Celestial Emperor.”

            “The chest is yours,” Owen said. “The rest remain with us.”

            “The sword belongs to ME! The pearl belongs to the Celestial Temple!” The beggar said assuming his true form, a yellowish, 420-meter long, bearded Oriental Dragon. As he virtually blinked into this form, the jade chest vanished from sight.

            “An honorable combat then,” Owen asked, “for the sword?”

            “Agreed,” said the dragon. “Choose the form you wish to fight Owen of Amber.”

            “Samurai,” replied Owen.

            “I am not worthy to be samurai,” Incognito responded. He assumed the form of a red-skinned elf, wearing a white ninja uniform. “This will have to do, and to ensure a fair and honorable combat . . . ”

            A magical cage went up with the slightest gesture of the disguised dragon’s hand, surrounding all of us except Owen and the dragon himself.

            Michael began trying to undo the spell. Valian and Titan tried forcing their way out. The rest of us watched the combatants.

            The dragon-ninja was every bit as good as Owen, in fact, better. As I watched, I realized alone none of us would have a chance against him. I became so engrossed in observing my brother, hoping to learn some of his skills, that I failed to notice Michael, Valian and Titan penetrated the barrier, but the dragon did.

            He breathed a cone of cold wind at them and assumed his true form in the blink of an eye. Almost in the same motion, he clawed Titan’s armor and sent him hurling across the sky . . . backwards. Another enormous claw came down pinning Owen to the ground.

            When the dragon released him the black katana was gone. Owen got to his feet, almost embarrassed. He, the second best swordsman in all Amber, defeated by a dragon in an unexplored shadow.

            Titan came flying back, this time under his own power, and the dragon roared, “The soul of KenLung is mine again. Now the pearl . . . give it to me or you will die!”

            Valian teleported us all to a hilltop just beyond our position. Michael left behind a spell which triggered an explosion similar to a nuclear bomb. I looked down into the valley below . . . the dragon was gone . . . not destroyed, just not there.

            The disembodied voice of Incognito, Lord of KenLung, echoed around us, “I have orders to reclaim the pearl or destroy it. Until that is done, you will not leave this shadow, children of Amber.”

            “What do you offer in exchange?” Titan called out. Suddenly, we found ourselves in the center of the dragon’s coils.

            “In exchange?!” the dragon mocked. “I should crush you where you stand. I am older than Amber, older than the Courts. The Great Serpent and I played together as hatchlings. You, great-grandson of Dworkin, son of Chaos, dare ransom me?!”

            Although my companions will deny it till the end of Shadow, I could sense their fear. We all knew his words were true. Titan, son of Julian, the most arrogant, fool-hearty of us all, thrust out his chest, battle damage and all . . . and said, “Yes, what do you offer in exchange?”

            Laughing, the great worm resumed his ninja form and said, “A magic all your own. A gift from the Celestial Temple, not a trophy taken from a creature following its basic instincts.”

            “How can we be sure you won’t double-cross us?” Michael asked.

            “I am a creature of honor. My mission is to retrieve the pearl,” Incognito replied. “Besides, this no longer concerns you sorcerer.”

            “I will help you to ensure nothing goes wrong,” Michael insisted.

            “I advise against it Michael Ericsson,” he warned. “If you attempt to channel that kind of power you will doom your cousins to a horrible fate.”

            As Incognito began to withdraw the fragments of the brain pearl from Titan’s armor, I went into a Jedi’s Farsee Trance for a glimpse of the future he spoke of. The energy drain of this shadow caused me to black out. When I awoke, the deed was done, and the dragon/ninja was gone.

            I told Michael of my vision. Indeed we would have been slaughtered, because Michael would be out for days due to the magic drain. Our path would have been crossed by an army led by a wizard. Michael would have been the first to die by a magic fireball.

            We continued toward the sea shore where we found a sheltered cove and began construction of a ship we would call Corsair. The finished product contained a little of all of us . . . and was very much real and alive. She had the ability to change her shape to blend in with the shadows around us, and an image of the “LifeBond” Trump I had created, with it she could Trump all of us or any one of us out of danger at a moment’s notice. She was part technology, part magic, part stone age, and all loyal and devoted to the safety of her creators.

            Corsair assumed the form of a war galleon and we set sail across an unfamiliar sea of water . . . into a sea of stars, in a galaxy far, far away. Home . . . but who shifted shadow to bring us here? Me out of subconscious desire, one of the others, or someone else?

            A few days on Tatooine and we were getting restless. Michael had been playing Sabbacc with Lando Calrissian. The game had lasted so long that it was hard to tell when Lando had a Skifter or Michael tweaked fate. The would break only long enough to get about twenty minutes of sleep then continue.

            I spent some time with Mara Jade, who had taken over Talon Karrde’s enterprise since his untimely demise.

            Belle spent time enticing Lando and the Force knows what else. Owen and Julia I didn’t see much of. Titan it seems also made himself scarce, although he spent a great deal of time integrating technology into Corsair from the abundant supplies around him. Valian, however, was the scarcest one of us all.

            Valian entered the Mos Eisley Cantina perused by a bounty hunter. The Hunter had a data pad that held Valian’s image to match his shape shifting. Someone was tinkering with my shadow.

            We blasted our way out of the Mos Eisley Cantina toward the spaceport, with a platoon of Stormtroopers on our trail. We raced aboard Corsair, which ironically resembled a YT-1300 and barely cleared the docking bay doors. We quickly ordered Corsair to alter her form to that of an Imperial troop transport and left the system.

            Subconsciously I took control of Corsair’s navigation system. I knew where we were going; just not why? Our destination was Abyss, a planet near the core of the Empire, not the border of Chaos, where Palpatine’s clone had made his stronghold, a remote planet at its best.

            A squadron of Interdictor cruisers pulled us out of hyperspace. While I used my wit, charm and chutzpah to keep them from blasting us; Owen, Titan and Valian, et. al. went wreaking havoc on two of the seven warships.

            One Interdictor was enough to bring a single ship out of hyperspace and keep it there. With seven they must be planning or attempting to pull down whole fleets.

            One ship, the Aestar, began listing toward another . . . a third toward the first . . . a window of opportunity, as the gravity well weakened. Corsair Trumped the others aboard. Michael negated the gravity field with a spell he finished working up for the occasion. Once free of the Interdictors we continued on our quest.

            I stretched out across the void toward Abyss. A Dark Force web surrounded the entire planet. I had to push through, but instead of driving though it with my will I eased around it . . . allowing the Dark Side to envelop me for a moment.

            That was when Michael called on Corsair to project on the screen the images in my mind. In the wrong hands this ship could be dangerous because it seems to be a living Trump in contact with us all. By the way, once we cleared the Interdictors Michael reversed his anti-gravity spell and returned things to normal.

            Finally through the web, I found Palpatine, Vader, and several Amberites . . . namely Mary and Jonathan Bleyson, Valian’s doppleganger (a Chaosite called Volor), and Michaela Jesslyn . . . my daughter.

            I latched onto Michaela’s mind. She was being controlled, manipulated into using the Force against me, to control my shadow. I tried to gain control of her mind and push her back to independence. I could feel her anguish, her fear, hate, anger . . . NO! I let her go leaving her with the desire to regain control over herself, and the FEAR of a mother and goddess scorned.

            Corsair had assumed the form of a Lambda class shuttle, designation TK-421 LINAERA, a ship assigned to the unfortunate Interdictor Aestar that recently collided with two others.

            Julia was disguised as an Imperial pilot; Titan and Belle as Stormtroopers; Owen as an Imperial colonel; Michael an Imperial Lieutenant; Valian in his Chaos form with the added effect of chains on his four arms and his legs; and myself in the black uniform of an Imperial commander.

            In my mind I shuddered as a chill coursed my spine when I broadcast our ship’s i.d. codes and said, “Hail Palpatine, Emperor of the Galaxy. We have captured the criminal Valerion and request a landing permit.”

            A long pause and then a reply, “Shuttle Linaera, permission granted to land at docking port 3263827.”

            The capitol city’s main military docking facility . . . too late to turn back now . . . we’ve traveled too far.

            We landed. The docking bay was lined wall to wall with the white armor of Stormtroopers. I doubt even Benedict could have taken them all. The hairs on the back of my neck would have risen, if I had any, when a crimson clad Stormtrooper, flanked by two in black, strolled through the parting masses. It was more instinctive rather than true fear now, but the memories and stories of my youth made me what I am. And those can still make me shudder.

            They walked right up to us. I gave the customary Imperial salute and dutifully, but regretfully, surrendered my prisoner. Owen had vanished stealthily into the crowd, leaving me in charge. One of the black Stormtroopers injected something into Valian’s neck, and he fell unconscious.

            The rest of us were taken to debriefing. The Crimson Guardsman asked us to relate how we captured Valian. I told him how Valian boarded our Interdictor, the Aestar, and during the battle we managed to shackle him.

            We grabbed the pilot and took him to the nearest hangar when we heard the ship’s evacuation codes begin. Valian’s companions are assumed dead whereas after the collision and subsequent explosion of the three Interdictors there was no trace of their ship, which was all true, from a certain point of view.

            We were all dismissed, except the pilot, i.e. Julia, who was ordered to report for fighter duty. Julia made a quick doppleganger of herself, and left the garrison behind us. Once outside, we quickly got out of uniform and into something more suitable.

            We had barely entered the city, trying to decide how to get to the Imperial Palace, when a messenger tried to deliver an invitation to a formal ball in the Palace . . . addressed to Jessica Damaris. I denied my identity, assuming the name of Elisa Bridges (an old alias from the Rebellion), again.

            Julia shape shifted to resemble me and assumed my identity. She accepted the invitation for me. We all knew this was an obvious trap, and hoped by shifting identities we might be able to better prepare for it.

            We entered a clothier to learn the latest Imperial fashions. Michael had a blue and silver tuxedo style suit custom made. Titan, for whatever reason, had a black tux made for himself, although his colors were blue and blue-gray. Belle and I merely took note of the latest dresses and altered our living silk dresses upon leaving.

            Did I neglect to mention that during an earlier period I gave Belle a piece of my dress which she and Michael incorporated into her spider silk which gave it the same properties as mine? I probably did, but back to the situation at hand.

            Julia bought herself a dress made of black leather, which was even more form fitting than her biker leathers. She looked so good I almost got jealous.

            I changed my dress into a short black skirt, with a matching bodice supported by two wide blue strips between them along the sides, leaving my mid-section bare both front and back. My lightsabre was hidden within the folds of my skirt, as usual when I was in Imperial territory, in a hidden pocket formed by the dress itself.

            Belle wore a near sheer skin tight version of her usual dress, but with a much deeper neckline.

            Once the men were fitted, we decided to go to the most expensive restaurant in town. As we entered, I got dizzy. The wood on the walls, came from a distant planet in the galaxy, revered as the most beautiful ever used for interior design, was still alive. I could feel its pain, typical of Palpatine. I had to tune out my Force sensitivity in order to remain inside without causing a scene.

            We ordered one of everything on the menu, except Tauntaun. The stench of the creatures would almost turn a person’s stomach, alive. Their carcass gave an even more offensive odor . . . and cooked? By the Force even Corwin’s endurance would fail to save him from retching.

            Like true children of Amber, we began to pack away all that was laid on the table before us. I personally was famished, rice and fish for a month or so can leave you rather hungry.

            A gentleman in the corner kept glancing, no staring, in my direction. Were he twenty years younger I would swear he was Han Solo. I gave him a brief smile and finished my fourth desert.

            As we were finishing our last course, the waiter brought us a bottle of Corellian brandy . . . Old Republic year 130. “From the gentleman in the corner,” he said.

            A note attached to the bottle read: J. Good Luck. T.

            I tipped my glass in his direction, he smiled and reciprocated. Michael made a comment comparing the brandy with Bayle’s Piss, the best wine in Amber despite its name.

            MegaForce walked in with a ‘lady of the evening’ on each arm. He dismissed them and joined us. He ate heartily, but not near as well as we. The waiter returned later with complimentary cigars and cigarettes, which we gratefully enjoyed. Hell when you know they can’t kill you why not.

1900 hours: The gates of the Imperial Palace

            I had a bad feeling that our had was tipped. The guard at the gate accepted the invitation and scanned each of us for weapons. Then he let us pass . . . all too easy.

            The orchestra, all Bith, probably all slaves, played something like a cross between Beethoven and John Williams.

            Michaela Jesslyn danced with Jonathan. Vader and the Emperor sat behind a force field at the back of the room.

            The warlords that had tried to reform the Empire on their own mingled with Palpatine’s top brass and other invited guests. Among them were Captain Peleon, Admiral Dala, in truth the only surviving top-ranking Imperial officer, the only one I didn’t see was Admiral Dallas. She wouldn’t be far behind once the news of this nexus spread throughout the galaxy, unless she decided her own racketeering business was more profitable.

            The orchestra completed the piece they were playing and Vader made his triumphal announcement of the impending attack on Coruscant and the end of the Rebellion.

            The Emperor looked directly at me and ordered his troops to bear arms against me. I ignited my lightsabre and prepared for combat. Michaela stepped forward, with her Jedi weapon active. I pleaded with her to let go of her anger, to join me. She attacked.

            I could have killed her. She had power over the Force and Shadow rivaling mine, but not the experience. I shouted to no one in particular, “Behold your mighty Emperor! He sends a child to do his dirty work for him . . . my child!”

            I grew weary of the battle. There was no maneuver she could use that I could not counter. I found myself thinking, this must be how Benedict feels when fighting shadow creatures. I rendered Michaela unconscious and turned to face the Emperor.

             During my fight Vader had been revealed to be Valian, under Palpatine’s control. The real Darth Vader, or rather the clone serving Palpatine, was leading the attack on Coruscant and the New Republic Capitol.

            Titan, concerned with the impending doom of the Republic, teleported to Coruscant, with Corsair’s knowledgeable help. Suddenly, Palpatine along with the Bleyson twins were no longer in this shadow. I had control again. I put up a barrier to limit access, thus preventing their return and future alteration of my home shadow.

            I replaced Palpatine with another clone, just to keep thing balanced. And assured my companions the New Republic was capable of handling the Imperial forces attacking Coruscant. Control over the destiny of a shadow is a wonderful thing.

            We Trumped back to Corsair, where I used the Kaiburr Crystal to heal the damage done Michaela’s psyche by Mary, Jonathan and Palpatine.

            Soon afterward, Michael’s psyche vanished from his body. As the others began a shadow search for Michael’s psyche, I placed his body in hybernation-stasis. Our search took us to MageWorld, Michael’s personal shadow and a mystic crystal cave beneath a castle.

            The crystals of the cave reflected our worst enemies and fears. The demons we each had to face. Mine however held the key to Michael’s location. The Emperor had Escrima, with Michael’s psyche trapped within the Kaiburr Crystal fragment.

            I procured the staff, but Palpatine retained the Crystal. Escrima was a construct of Michael’s. It had the keys to Michael’s shadow. Knew it had limited shape shifting powers, and could take the form of a small wyvern or a dragon of sorts, but not without the Crystal fragment. I needed mine and was left with only one choice . . . the Trump I had drawn during the Quest for the Crystal.

            I placed it in the setting where the Crystal fragment would be, and the staff assumed its wyvern form with a new spine plate at the back of its head where the card should be. The staff and the Crystal had made their own contact with each other. Escrima was sentient.

            “Lady Jessica, we have never been formally introduced,” the staff thing said. “There is no time now. Follow me and I can get you all inside the keep.”

            “Couldn’t you Trump the fragment here?” I asked.

            “I hadn’t thought of that. I was going on your last impression of wanting a conflict with Palpatine,” Escrima said. “Of course I can.”

            The crystal fragment that had once been the crown of Michael’s staff was suddenly in the talon of the wyvern. He promptly flew to a great height and hurled the crystal against the wall of Mage Keep. Michael stood before us soon after. A brief rendering of what had transpired and Michael caused the trio of adversaries to appear before us.

            Mary and Jonathan made a hasty exit. Palpatine and I squared off. I defeated him, it was then I realized just how “real” even Shadow Creatures of the Force were.

            Michael and I found ourselves suddenly Trumped into a desert.

            We wandered the wasteland for hours in search of shelter, or water. I felt a Trump contact . . . without thinking I answered, it was Corsair, and I had just opened and closed the trap.

            Several more hours of travel across the desert, this time at least in a Windjammer. We encountered a small city built within the rocks of the desert, much like the Anasazi ruins of Mesa Verde. The humans that dwelt there reminded me of the Fremen of Herbert’s Dune.

            Their High Priestess greeted us as their saviors and told us of their fate. A millennia ago, Prath had come to this shadow seeking the Kaiburr Crystal. He brought with him all his remaining Super Star Destroyers. A great war broke out between his forces and those of the Alliance of Worlds that had been here.

            Prath found the crystal, but died before he could use it. He released a Force Scream and a curse damning all technology within this shadow with his bloody had on the Crystal. The electromagnetic pulse that rippled out destroyed all the high technology, magic, and influences of the Force throughout this shadow. However, it was Mary Bleyson’s dreaded Amber blood curse that sealed our fate.

            She and Jonathan would bring us here, with no way out but one. Trump contact was a one way trip, and anyone using one would be trapped here with us. The only way out was via a blood sacrifice on the Broken Pattern found somewhere within this shadow. Finally, if Anthony, also known as Titan, son of Julian entered this shadow with his armor it would be destroyed along with all his technology.

            The Priestess knew of the Broken Pattern and led us to it. It lay at the center of a ruined temple, within the only area of the planet that sustained life, an oasis in the desert. Michael and Valian attempted to restore the Pattern by retracing the lines in blood. No effect.

            Titan came up with the idea of a ritual sacrifice, possibly trumping one of our enemies and hurling them onto the Pattern. I suggested all of us cutting our wrists in a summoning ritual of a sort. It worked.

            I heard Michael utter something to the effect of ‘restoring the natural balance of this shadow, undoing Prath’s curse.’

            We were back in Amber. Titan was without his high technology, basically just another guy in a “tin suit.” He said his good-byes and walked off into shadow, hoping to find a way to rebuild.

            Michael departed to MageWorld and closed the doors behind him. Valian and Julia went Hellriding through shadow. Belle returned to her home shadow. Owen was still off in shadow somewhere . . . I went to my garden.

            It seems Mary’s curse took something from each of us. I could feel the Force flowing again, but the knowledge of the Sith Powers were gone. I knew the Dark Side would show them to me again someday, for better or worse. I should have been happy, but I felt alone. More lonely than I had ever felt before . . . It was then the nightmares began.

            (Mandor had awakened a clone of me Palpatine had made from my severed hand. During the time we were lost in the cursed world.)

            I sat naked in my garden, leaning against the sapling, that only a few months ago had been a mere sprig of the tree Ygg. I dreamed I was only a few inches tall and a sex slave to some unknown master. The nightmare continued and I became normal size, but still the sex toy of the same mysterious stranger.

            I am unsure wether it was part of the dream, or if it was real, but as I began to clear my head of the visions, a twisted, long-haired and bearded old man walked up to me. He said in a kind compassionate voice, “Do not despair, my child, with the Force and Shadow all things are possible. You will meet your friends again, and confront your nightmares.”

            He knelt beside me, touched my shoulder and kissed my forehead . . . then he was gone. I woke to a Trump call from Belle, still naked against the tree. I could still smell the musky stench of the unwilling sex, I shrugged it off and answered Belle.

            She, Julia, and Valian had found another lost daughter of the Unicorn. Her name was Jasmine, granddaughter of Fiona, and they were trying to explain her heritage to her. They insisted they needed my help. I grabbed my dress and other personal things and stepped through.

            There I stood in the middle of a city sidewalk naked. The city was not unlike one from Shadow Earth, only much darker, more gothic, more so than even London. I casually pulled my dress on, replaced my wristband with my lightsabre attached, adjusted my hidden pockets containing my Trumps and Shadow Currency, then casually picked up my lace-up sandals and held them dangling in my hand.

            I did my best to explain the concepts of reality and shadow, but to no avail. She asked, “Is that a lightsabre?”

            That was my cue. On Shadow Earth, as well as others, this one included, the adventures of Luke Skywalker had been documented as motion pictures, she obviously had seen or heard of this so I decided to take her HOME.

            Just as we were preparing to lead her through shadow, a costumed clown showed up. Actually he would be considered a super-hero in most shadows. He seemed to have spider-like powers and called himself The Spyder. He seemed too much like Spiderman from Marvel Comics for me but we took him along, he did register as a creature of power. He might be useful.

            The best place to start was the local theatre, which was probably showing one of the STAR WARS movies right now. The King Theatre around the corner was perfect . . . a marathon of STAR WARS movies was about to begin. I could burst a few bubbles, but I decided to use discretion.

            As the movies began, I started remembering those days, and in so doing, compared Jasmine to a student of mine. I had almost forgotten Jasmyn, she was a bounty hunter when I first met her during the rebellion. At wars end, I took her as a pupil trying to help Luke rebuild the Jedi. I last saw her when Prath killed Silisity. Perhaps my Padawan learner (apprentice) was a shadow version of my new found cousin.

            I began to affect minor changes to shadow as we entered the auditorium. The first thing I did was insure we had seats without the usual gunk and filth on the seats and the floor. Once seated I shuffled my feet and shifted in my chair, movie seats never are comfortable anyway. As I moved, I shifted a few more changes to shadow.

            The images on the screen became more vivid as the technology increased to a near digital audio-visual system. I had to go to the ladies room and on my way back to my seat I moved us a step closer home.

            Some may ask how I “carried” my companions through shadow, when I seem to be the only one moving? My reply: The Force is a powerful ally.

            Jasmine noticed the subtle changes but did not comment. I could read her thoughts every time she looked into my eyes. She believed it to be hypnosis of some sort or possibly that we’d arranged a “magic” show.

            During the intermission, between movies, we stepped outside for a breath of air and a cigarette. I made the final shift. We stepped out of the theatre into the streets of Coruscant.

             Jasmine’s jaw dropped to the floor. “You were telling the truth,” she said.

            We took the scenic tour of the galaxy. I took her to meet Master Skywalker, Han and Leia Solo and family, Lando Calrissian, et. al. I even let her fly an Incom T-65. She’s not a bad pilot.

            Finally, we decided it was time to see Amber. I shuffled my Trump and we stepped into the Grand Hall. Dinner time as usual in Amber. The whole family was there so introductions were easy. Fiona was taken aback to learn she had a granddaughter, but all went well.

            I didn’t stay in Amber long. Some might say I took the Royal Path, avoiding undesirable events, not really going anywhere just wandering through shadow.

            I stopped on a hill overlooking a castle. A castle made of gold by appearances. The sounds and smells of the city within the walls rode the wind to me. The scents of a simple time: bread, mead, horses, . . . reminded me of Amber.

            I must have let my guard down, because the next thing I remember is waking chained to the wall of a gypsy wagon with a half-dozen or so other women. The stench of sex all around. How long I had been in here or how much time had passed I was unsure. The light from the cracks told me it was near dark.

            The sounds of drinking and drunk men outside told me they were slavers and would soon be in to test their wares again. I knew I hadn’t been used yet, and wasn’t about to be now. I began contorting to escape my chains, when the sounds of battle began.

            A fair-skinned, dark-haired, young woman on the opposite wall began to struggle against her bonds at the sound. Obviously a warrior-type, she longed to be free to join the fight and earn her freedom. She had the bearing of a noble-born, but the hard muscles and hands of a soldier.

            The doors of the wagon burst open as I freed myself. Jasmine, Owen and Belle stood in the aperture, bloody swords in their hands. They freed the four women imprisoned with me. Once out of the wagon we treated the women for minor cuts and bruises.

            The dark-haired one told us, “My father will reward you if you take me back to Camelot. I am Ursulet, King Arthur’s daughter and lawful heir to the throne.”

            Jasmine had been going through the treasure trunks of the dead slavers and found a lovely red satin dress, a small ornate, although cheap, tiara, which she presented to the girl. “Take these your highness,” she said humbly. “It would not be proper for you to return to your father in your current rags.”

            Graciously Ursulet took the clothes and went into one of the slavers’ tents to change. Belle and Jasmine found suitable garments for the other women and Jasmine herself, who was still wearing her leather jumpsuit from her home shadow, and my lightsabre and wristband.

            Owen and I made-ready the caravan for its journey to Camelot. The wagons were cleaned up at the stream nearby, the horses brushed and the tents prepared for a peaceful nights rest. We promised each of the seven women we would protect them until we could get them home or reached Camelot, which ever they preferred.

            The next morning one of the women had left. The others agreed to follow us to Camelot.

            We rode for hours over a rocky road, a Roman road in ill repair. Reining in the wagons before descending the hill, I saw the golden castle I had seen before. This was not Corwin’s Avalon, but it was damn close.

            One of the women had used some of the scrap fabric from the slavers and made a makeshift banner for us to hang from the wagons. Its blazon would be described thus: gules on a bear passant or. For those of you who don’t speak heraldry: a golden bear walking on a red background, more or less.

            This was Ursulet’s standard. The princess proudly hung the banner from a pole and carried it herself leading our caravan on a gallant black stallion.

            We were greeted as equals before the Round Table. We were even offered places of our own as reward for returning Ursulet in one piece.

            A grand tourney was arranged in our honor. We were treated almost as well here as we were in the true city. The tourney began a few day after our arrival and continued for almost a week. Owen, of course, took honors in everything. Defeating all comers, including the legendary Lancelot.

            Merlyn took a special interest in me. I did my best to answer his queries, but some things are too complex even for him to comprehend. I finally tired of his questioning and returned to the shadow called STAR WARS, my home.

            I don’t really know why but I was searching for the knowledge of the Sith. I know its buried within my mind, but finding it was another matter. I sat in the Temple of the Crystal on Mimban, meditating on the question of whether the loss of that knowledge was for the better of worse of Amber?

            A Trump call from Jasmine broke my trance. She told me a large falcon landed on her shoulder bearing a note:

To All Knights of the Round Table:

Mordred has kidnaped Ursulet and

has mortally wounded Arthur.

This message may be my final conjuration

I am weary from battle with Morgana and

fear she has set a trap for me.

Seek the grail . . . save Camelot.

(signed)Merlyn

            Jasmine extended her hand and I stepped through to Amber. Owen and Belle received similar messages and met us at the Royal Stables. The Spyder followed along swinging from his webbing. We each chose our favorite horse and rode off into shadow. Along the way we passed through a shadow reminiscent of Shadow Earth, but there seemed to be no combustion engines; however, they had equivalent technology.

            Jasmine stopped in a shop to pick up some “Travel Music.” She purchased a CD-player and a CD titled, “Amber: the Adventurers Album.” There seemed to be a piece of music to match the persona of each member of my generation of Amberites. It seemed to be a companion piece to a book she found titled, “Amber: the Adventure Continues” by Robert Zelazny. A book that seems to be verbatim a copy of my journals including all the gaps between. It almost seemed to be writing itself as we rode on.

            Upon arrival, in Camelot, we find many citizens scrambling to leave fear of Mordred’s army. We also learned that only a handful of Arthur’s knights and men remained.

            Arthur had been cleaved with an axe. His ribs broken, lung punctured, liver cut and his intestines punctured. The wounds were festering. I did what I could to detoxify the poison of the infection and place him in a hybernation trance.

            Jasmine and The Spyder began preparing for “meatball surgery” using a medieval needle and some of the Spyder’s webbing. Owen added his medical knowledge to theirs. Our combined efforts managed to save his life. Although without Michael’s or Merlyn’s magic it would be sometime before he would be up and around.

            Owen found Merlyn’s spell book and opened a door to the infamous Crystal Cave via a mirror. Into the cave we took Arthur. There imprisoned within a crystal we found Merlyn. Alive but immobile.

            Once we managed to find a spell to release him, Merlyn told us we could find the Holy Grail in a druid temple near a circle of stones in Erin . . . a.k.a. Ireland. He also told us Mandor was behind Mordred’s coup and that he had released a flaming red bull to drive The Unicorn to the ends of shadow.

            “Find the Grail to save Camelot,” he said. “Find the Unicorn to save creation.”

            We opened another of Merlyn’s magic gates. This one to Ireland’s circle of stones. Belle and Ursulet were already there waiting for us.

            Owen used his knowledge of Celtic Lore to obtain permission from the head Druid to gain us entry into the circle of stones and the underground temple beyond. There in the depths we came to a solid oaken door. Above the door written in the swirling runes of the ancient Picts were the words: Only the pure.

            We all agreed that Ursulet should be the one to enter. She opened the door to reveal a dark room. In its center, upon a pedestal, the Grail was lit from a mystical source above. As she approached the sacred chalice, the sounds of movement came from the shadows. Jasmine and Spyder activated their glow rods and we saw a black knight moving toward King Arthur’s daughter. She was unarmed against a dark creature of the underworld.

            Owen teleported his sword into the hand of Camelot’s heiress. She fought bravely, with all the composure of a true Knight of the Round Table. A final thrust of the dragonhead katana and the black knight went down. Ursulet picked up the grail and rejoined the rest of us as the door.

            After Arthur drank from the sacred cup, his wounds healed. He ordered Merlyn to summon the remains of his knights and his army.

            On the horizon, an army stretched as far as the eye could see, the army of Mordred. Within the walls of Camelot, a few dozen knights of renown, my companions and I against them.

            Owen led the defenders of Camelot onto the field. The battle raged for hours. The ground covered in rivers of blood and sweat; still we fought. The knights and soldiers on both sides died, and died, and still they died.

            Ursulet and Arthur, both wounded continued to fight. Finally, Belle and Owen managed to kill Mordred. With their leader gone the army began to retreat. Soon the battle ended, we won.

            We took our leave from Arthur and went in search of the Unicorn. Our quest took us to a “shadow of the realm” near Chaos. Suddenly out of the forest came the scent of sulfur and smoke, a swirling ball of fire . . . a flaming red bull.

            Spyder tried to entangle it in his webbing, but the fibers disintegrated in the flames. Owen and I attacked it with our swords, but we could not penetrate is hide. Belle shouted, “MARSK!” A mystical word in Thari which sorcerers could use to weaken the structure of the intended target.

            That gave us the chance we needed. Owen and I slashed the creature in the throat. Jasmine threw an acetylene canister into the hole and the beast exploded.

            We followed the Psychic trace of the Unicorn to a ruined castle on a cliff overlooking an ocean.

            Belle flew over the wall and entered through a tower window. The Spyder shot a web toward the window and swung over after her. Owen, Jasmine and I entered through the front door. An aged wizard came down the stairs into the main audience chamber as we entered.

            “Ye must wait until the wine drinks itself, when the skull speaks,” the wizard laughed manically. “Wait for the clock to strike the right time, only they will you find the passage that leads to the Unicorn of Amber.”

            The old wizard vanished as an old man and a young knight entered the room. The boy looked like a younger Owen . . . or me. The old man turned into a demon as he and the boy attacked. The Force told me the boy was of true Amber blood and this information I quickly relayed to my brother with a glance.

            Owen rendered the inexperienced young knight unconscious and both of us turned on the demon. Jasmine took up the fallen knight’s sword and gave us a hand. A few minutes of battle against three Amberites and the demon died.

            Belle arrived to tell us of the riddle she had heard from a cat . . . the same riddle revealed to us by the wizard. Within minutes we found a chamber with an ancient, but broken clock, and a bleached skeleton atop a dilapidated fireplace.

            As we examined the clock, the skull began to laugh. “You’ll never find her . . . ”

            To make a long story short, we coerced the skull to tell us where the passage was. This was starting to sound like a Shadow Earth novel by Peter Beagle called “The Last Unicorn.” When the fog of the “time portal” cleared, we say her. The mother of Amber . . . shimmering white, as if covered with down rather than fur and maning; her tiny cloven hooves were golden, as well as the delicate, whorled horn that rose from her narrow head . . . chained to a wall by her slender neck and her forelegs. She was surrounded by lesser demons awaiting the time to strike the death blow. She fought against the chains, but there was something else wrong . . . she was in labor.

            We rushed to her aid. While my companions battled the demons, I helped the Unicorn through the Force with the birth of her colt. Her offspring was blue with red stripes, a golden mane, tail and a whorl on her head. Once the birth was complete, I freed her from her bonds, not having enough time before.

            Her horn glowed with an eerie light of true magic. The walls of the castle began to rumble. Suddenly we found ourselves on the beach beyond the cliff. With us was the young knight and a black unicorn. The stallion sniffed the colt, bowed to the Mother of Amber and departed.

            The Unicorn told us that the young knight was the son of Mandor and a clone of myself, whose existence I chose to ignore until now. She also warned us Amber was in grave danger and classic Trumps were not functioning. With this said she and her colt vanished.

            A long Hellride to Amber would consume too much time, so I summoned all the power the Force would lend me and teleported us to the gates of Castle Amber. The city and castle were under siege.

            An explosion rocked all of reality . . . a ripple in the Force . . . all the elders, except Corwin, fell unconscious. The Pattern was damaged. It seemed anyone who had not set foot upon Corwin’s Pattern was unconscious.

            I teleported myself to the Pattern chamber. The massive door was ajar, almost ripped from its hinges. Gerard lay in a pool of his own blood beside the Pattern. Blood that was flowing dangerously close to the Pattern. I stripped off my living silk dress to absorb and wipe the blood back. I did what I could to help my uncle with the Force, then sent him to my home shadow, via one of my Trumps, for medical treatment.

            I took the Kaiburr Crystal from my lightsabre. My dress still lay on the floor absorbing the blood pool my uncle Gerard had left behind. I walked around the room to the beginning of the Pattern. I looked out at the shimmering form in the floor. Stared at the burned spot near the grand curve. I knew the only chance Amber had was for me to retrace the Pattern with my Crystal and repair it.

            Volor, Valian’s evil, red-eyed twin, threw himself onto the Pattern, but Spyder used his webbing to pull him back just as his foot hit. As it had my father, the Pattern destroyed him in a whirlwind, but not before he uttered a blood curse . . . “You will never remake the Pattern!”

            At that moment, I stumbled. The original Pattern image was gone . . . I had no choice, I began to trace the Pattern in my own image. The Pattern was the soul of Amber, the very image of reality, without it all was lost. Besides if I stopped now, I would join my father and Volor.

            Someone revived Fiona and she rushed to the Pattern room. Seeing me tracing the damaged Pattern in an image unknown to her, she stepped onto the new image. Of all the elders she was the only one to see the Pattern as a living, breathing, part of reality. She also feared my having total control over this new Pattern and cursed my name as she began. I can’t say that I blame her considering my known potential for treachery.

            A man entered the massive chamber holding Jasmine at gunpoint. She was covering much like I was after my rape by Mandor. He too was thrust onto and ripped from the Pattern. As he died, his curse sang out, “Jasmine shall never recover!”

            Fiona was gaining on me, still swearing under her breath, it was faster without the jewel. Then I felt her, the clone through which Mandor fathered the young knight, Colwyn MacAndor. Jessiica Damariis and my old friend Damien Omega together using the Dark Side to stop me. My steps stuttered and the Pattern had a new flaw.

            I slowed my pace, with the Pattern already damaged what more could a slower pace do. Then I shouted, “Fiona, hurry I need your help!” Hers was the strongest Psyche in Amber, with hers joined with mine I had a chance to complete this. When she caught up to me and put her hand on my shoulder our psyches linked, now she understood what I was doing and was willing to help.

            Damien and Jessiica tried to combine their Dark Side powers to control and dominated my mind trying to influence me to create a Pattern which could be used by anyone possessing the Force and not just the blood of Amber. So I spat my blood curse, and another blight upon the Pattern, “Damien, Jessiica, you will NEVER take the Pattern!”

            That was the first “dark spot” on the new Pattern. Before Fiona and I completed it, I was forced to call upon the Dark Side myself twice to stop Damien and my clone.

            Michael and Valian arrived in Amber and saved us all. Michael cast his “Fly-In-Amber” spell and encased Jessiica Damariis and Damien Omega in two amber gemstones.

            Fiona and I completed the Pattern and rested at its center. Michael and Valian walked my Pattern with the Jewel from Michael’s dragon-staff Escrima, and the fragment of the Kaiburr Crystal taken from Damien’s lightsabre. Once they reached the center, the four of us linked our psyches and concentrated on restoring the Pattern to its true image, wishing it back to the reflection of the Primal Pattern it must be. The elders awoke, the tide of battle turned, order was restored to Amber.

            Michael gave me the gem containing Damien Omega. I returned via Trump to Star Wars and set him free. I made him forget Amber, and set a condition upon the shadow that he would never again leave it. I gave him back his lightsabre which contained a shadow copy of his Kaiburr Crystal fragment and only functioned in this shadow.

            The Pattern had revealed to me what Mandor had done to Trump. I drew a new Trump of his Skifter, an electronic Trump deck modeled after an illegal Sabbacc card from my world. A special device he had used to “blackout” all common Trumps. Then I traveled back to Mimban, to the Temple of the Crystal.

            In the tunnels beneath, as I knew it would be, I found a shadow pocket behind a small rock with an indentation the exact shape of my lightsabre. My lightsabre acted as a key to open the portal. No power yet known in Amber would function within the “wall safe sized” pocket universe. I concentrated on Mandor’s Skifter via the Trump I created. When I could see it, I reached out and plucked it from Mandor’s table. I then threw the Skifter, my Trump, and my lightsabre casing, with all the key components removed, into the pocket realm and sealed it forever.

            I constructed a new lightsabre using the key components from my old one. With the casing gone the door to the pocket shadow was forever sealed. My new design reminded me of a combination of Darth Vader’s and Luke Skywalker’s weapons, not quite unique, but mine none-the-less. Once that was completed, I withdrew one of the Trumps I had taken from the library and used it to return to Amber. It worked . . . but this was an ace I planned to keep from the others for a while. I had my own personal deck which I could use until the Elders discovered my secret.

            It had been almost a month since the attack on Amber by Mandor and his forces. Jasmine was still quivering in fear of the man who pronounced his curse upon her. I used the Force to calm her, to discover her dark secret.

            The man who cursed her had been her uncle . . . had raped her as a child. I used the Force to restore her sanity. “You’ve no need to fear him anymore. You can never forget, but you can learn and grow from the experience. You were too young then to resist, but now he cannot harm you ever again. He made you who you are, but only you can destroy the Avenging Angel [her ‘alter ego’ or super hero identity in her home shadow]. Mine is the voice of experience and wisdom. You control your own destiny and no man, real or shadow can change that! You need never fear him again! Fear is the Dark Side, along with anger, aggression and hatred. Turn against these feelings, do not give in to them and no harm can be done to you by his presence, give in and they will consume you. With this knowledge you are whole, awake and resume your live as his curse never was.”

            Another month has passed since I restored Trump, and still no one has figured it out. I was finishing the last card in my personal deck, a complete copy of Dworkin’s tailored to me as a contingency against a recurrence of Mandor’s trick, when there came a knock at my door.

            “Enter,” I called, but the knock repeated. I got up from my desk and crossed the room. I opened the door. Benedict, his right arm finally grown enough to be in a sling, had been banging on my door with his left hand holding his ancient Japanese katana.

            “Trouble, General?” I asked using his formal title since he was flashing his bare blade before me.

            “Report to the Great Hall in thirty minutes,” he answered. “By Random, King of Amber.”

            Benedict wasn’t normally so formal, but he seemed to be on a no-nonsense mission and wasn’t in a talking mood. I acknowledged the order and closed the door.

            I jumped into the shower, fully clothed. I gave my dress a quick, but thorough spray, before I removed it and hung it over the towel rack to dry. I stepped back into the stream of water to wash myself drawing the curtain closed.

            Vanity, my one true Jedi flaw and virtue shared with most Amberites, caused me to stand before my floor length mirror admiring my naked beauty. I brushed my long red hair while admiring my own natural features. I still wonder why the photographers of Shadow Earth had airbrushed hair around my vaginal area; why they added an airbrushed navel and tan-lines on the photographs, they published in Playboy years ago. I always thought my more exotic features were among my most alluring. I had no unsightly hair that plagued most women, even Amberites, in fact below my neck I had no hair at all. I also had no sign of an umbilical cord, no navel at all.

            I set my brush down and began caressing my smooth skin, rubbing a sweet smelling, all natural lotion to restore the oils I lost during my shower. Visions of sexual fantasies passed over me . . . through me . . . I shuddered. I felt as if I was being ravaged. No it was more like rapture . . . I used the Force to regain control of myself. Whatever was happening it wasn’t real. Was it?

            I quickly finished brushing my hair and slipped on my living-silk dress. I altered it into a more formal, courtly design and Trumped to the Great Hall.

            The air was heavy with the stench of Chaos, Lord Swaytin of the High Council of the Courts of Chaos stood beside King Random. Even with the one-armed Benedict, the best warrior of either royal house, behind him, I could sense Random’s discomfort at Lord Swaytin’s presence. But it wasn’t because of the Chaosite, exactly.

            I approached the throne, and curtseyed. Fiona, Merlin, Corwin, Belle and the Spyder entered the chamber before I returned to my feet. Following the courtly graces of the new arrivals. Random formally introduced Lord Swaytin.

            The Lord of Chaos related the tale of woe that had brought him to Amber. After hearing his news those of us present knew the source. The Horrors had used Valhalla to escape Corwin’s Pattern and were raging across the shadows of Dworkin’s Pattern. They were destroying everything in their path en route to Chaos. We were also surprised to learn Lady Julia Blaze now occupied the seat in the Courts once reserved for Mandor. Mandor had been renounced by the council and even expelled as the head of his own house, instead his daughter Julia now occupied his seat.

            Those of us present had witnessed first hand the Horrors and were being requested to share our knowledge with the Courts of Chaos. I Trumped us to the Castle of the Courts. Once there, we spent several hours hacking out the details of the current situation and comparing them with our previous encounters.

            A disturbance in the Force told me the Horrors were tearing through the Shadows near my home. We Trumped to a shadow where evil was good and vice-versa. A topsy turvy version of my home. Here we could hold off the Horrors until the Council could gather the Logrus masters and pull the Horrors into the trap we planned.

            The evil Emperor Luke Skywalker and I used the “Light Side” of the Force to destroy the Horrors with the aid of President Palpatine and his Padawan Anakin Skywalker. We used the Death Star above Endor to destroy the forest moon and a large number of the Horrors. Strangely, in this upside down world, I felt good when the home of the Ewoks vaporized.

            Julia summoned a Shadow Storm in the wake of our impending defeat. I trumped us all to Owen’s shadow, specifically Owen’s apartment, the Dark Jedi Luke Skywalker jumped though with us as the Shadow Storm erased his world from existence.

            Julia trumped us back to the Courts. The Horrors began manifesting in the courtyard of the council’s castle. That was when I felt it. A single controlling mind . . . no a thought behind the Horrors. A Blood Curse almost forgotten, “If I can’t rule . . . no one shall..”

            I made a call to Random and told him my theory. He agreed it was worth trying. I extended my hand and the King of Amber stepped onto the battlefield that was the Courts of Chaos. The King knelt before his elder brother Corwin holding the Jewel of Judgement and the crown of Amber before him. Humbly he said, “Lord Corwin of Amber, I abdicate the throne to you.”

            All within earshot hesitated, even the Horrors, in shock, except me. Corwin dropped Greyswandir and his jaw reaching out to touch the shoulders of his “demented” brother. I touched his instead. “Lord Corwin, what were the exact words of your curse?” I asked.

            “If I can’t rule in Amber . . . ” Corwin whispered.

            “I repeat: I abdicate the throne to you Lord Corwin, King of Amber,” Random insisted.

            Corwin took the crown and placed it on his head, then the Jewel around his neck. The Horrors were gone! Vanished without a trace . . . short of the damaged already done. As soon as they vanished Corwin said, “Random, take these back I don’t want them anymore. The throne is yours.”

            Perhaps I am a Jedi; a peacemaker, defender of truth. I have thus far saved Amber or its citizens from at least three blood curses . . . and this recent one being the darkest and most dangerous of all. I have seen the Dark Side and overcome it. Perhaps, Jessica Damaris’ ultimate goal is accomplished, I am worthy to be called Jedi!

            With this thought in mind I decided it was time to venture off on my own through shadow. Time to enjoy the adventure of life . . . time to begin a new life . . . my true life, as Jessica Brandier. Like the rest of my generation I decided to take a “Surname” based on the name of my Amber parent . . . or in my case plural parents . . . Brand and Dierdre, Damaris was the name of a woman in shadow I had believed raised me due to my mixed up memories, but not my mother or even remotely related.

            I walked shadow en route to Amber searching for a jungle, like Mimban, but a bit less dangerous. A jungle where not everything wanted to kill you. A shadow where survival was a way of life, but not the only way. For once it would be nice to be the predator and not the prey. Then a familiar feeling came over me . . . I was being watched.

            Over the last month I have been pursued by a creature I cannot see. I can feel its presence, hear its breath, but it has perfect camouflage. It’s armed with a blaster of sorts and a laser targeting system, but my superior skills have kept it from catching me. Somehow it was following me through shadow.

            It pursued me through wild and urban jungles. Finally I grew weary of the chase. I began to feel as if I were being herded. It pursued me into a cave in an unfamiliar jungle. I felt it coming. Another pursuing its prey approaching from behind . . . a trap.

            I ignited my lightsabre and stood ready. I shouted, amplifying my voice with the Force, “I grow weary of this game. The hunt is over! Let’s finish it!”

            Its eyes glowed for a moment, three laser targeting dots centered between my breasts. It fired. With one swift stroke of my sabre, I deflected the laser bolt back between its eyes. It screamed and fell from the tree it was perched in. Its invisibility screen had been damaged and I finally saw the hideous beast that had pursued me for so long, but it would no more.

            Spyder came crawling out of the cave, but I never saw the second hunter behind him. Jasmine called me by Trump, but we could not use it to travel between shadow. A Logrus tendril reached out and touched Spyder. Lady Julia Blaze and Jasmine followed behind it.

            No sooner did they arrive, when two of the hunters attacked from the trees. The new attackers were just out of range for Jasmine’s Blastec DL-44.

            The sounds of a crowd cheering and the evil insane laughter of a commentator echoed all

around us. We were apparently in a type of arena, with cameras everywhere. The commentator said, “Place your bets. Who will win this round? Predators or prey? Ha-ha-ha-ha.”

            “I know that laugh,” Spyder said. “It’s the Goblin, an old adversary of mine.”

            Jasmine had been examining the equipment and body of the hunter I’d killed. She discovered it was a methane breather and could only see in the infrared spectrum. Armed with this knowledge, I used the Force to lower my body temperature to that of the ambient air. Then I adjusted my eyes to pick up the distortion field produced by their cloaking devices. Locating them, I used the Force to entangle one with the vines of the trees.

            Jasmine and Spyder were moving toward the struggling Hunter. The second rushed past them. Spyder pursued. The first cut itself free, with a blade weapon on its wrist, but not in time. Jasmine was now within blaster range.

            The second, followed closely by Spyder, rushed past Julia and I heading deeper into the cavern. We followed.

            Spyder caught it with a web, forcing it against a wall. Julia used the Logrus to render it unconscious. Jasmine had caught up with us and probed its unconscious mind to learn the Goblin and another of Spyder’s foes, a Symbiote creature had joined with each other and the Logrus to destroy the Spyder . . . the rest of us were convenient sport . . . and there was one more hunter . . . the leader.

            A shot from his blaster ricocheted off the wall. I used the Pattern to short out his camouflage equipment. Now we could all see him. I lowered the temperature of my lightsabre hilt and hurled it at him, using the Projected Fighting techniques of the Jedi. Jasmine opened fire with her blaster.

            I searched for a weak spot in his armor with the Pattern. I found one. There I targeted my lightsabre, just below the base of his skull. Upon impact the weapon activated. Telepathically I twisted the angle of the blade until it was driven through its brain. It died. Unfortunate, but it would have killed us given the chance. Not the best option.

            Our audience was gone . . . the game was over. I felt a Pattern door open, we could leave now.

            On the way back to Amber we encountered a Shadow of the Realm, where all the elders, the guards . . . everyone in Castle Amber were dead. The Pattern of this Shadow was reversed, and at its center was a large humanoid figure dressed in black with a long black riding coat and a wide-brimmed hat.

            It turned to us in recognition, but it knew we were not the ones it had killed. It smiled, revealing its bloody fangs. A vampire, but not like any we’d met before, this one wanted Amber. A vampire with power over the Pattern, but how long could “Shadow Blood of Amber” keep him real enough to use it?

            Lord Corwin, to the surprise of us all, called me via Trump. I hurriedly insisted he bring us through to Amber. Once there we related our tale. Corwin had been reading a book left in the library by Jasmine. A book that chronicled the adventures of my generation, so he knew about Lord Nor, but this new “Pattern Charged” vampire actually made him shudder.

            Jasmine and Belle went to warn Random and Queen Vialle of the new dangers, when Corwin asked for a moment in private with me. He told me the book, “The Chronicles of Amber: The Next Generation,” had explained in detail about my recurring ‘nightmare’ and its cause.

            As he mentioned it, I began to get the feelings of sexual arousal again. This time I was wide awake and knew it. I could feel the mysterious hands caressing me, I could smell . . . Corwin continued to explain. By the Force it was hard to concentrate on what he was saying . . . but before he could finish explaining I knew.

            Michael had freed her from the amber gemstone. He kept her for his own personal lover. I suddenly realized I had to sever the link between the clone made from the severed hand of the failed Jedi Jessica Damaris. We were psychically connected through the common DNA and the Force. Unlike most clones she had been generated by a Chaosite using my actual hand and not just a few cell samples taken from it, but actually grown around it. It was almost as if I had regenerated my entire body from that hand.

            Her fantasies were my nightmares, it had to end. Every time Michael fucked her I felt it. I could not blame him for still being in love with me . . . her, but I was being violated.

            I hoped I had enough time. I thanked Corwin for the information, took my leave of him and Trumped home. Once there I found the best medical facility in the New Republic. I then used the Pattern, the Force and a Trump of myself to summon Jessiica to me.

            Michael’s defenses were good, but my exceptional control of the Pattern and the link between us allowed me to penetrate them and make contact with my clone. Immediately upon her arrival the medical droid sedated her.

            I had found the droid that had originally replaced my hand and he accessed his database to help undo his work and remove from Jessiica only what was mine.

            He restored my severed appendage and gave her my artificial replacement. Together we altered her neuro-pathways, the droid using technology and myself using the Force, the life bond between us was gone. She was her own person now. Her memories intact, except for my involvement in her receiving the artificial limb. I gave her a new memory for that, it was an accident during the battle at Amber. Michael replaced it before he freed her from his spell and never told her. I returned her to MageWorld.

            Michael wanted Jessica Damaris, now he had her . . . all of her, and her flaws. A copy of the original, but just as real. Jessiica Damariis was alive and contentedly in love with her cousin Michael Ericsson; Jessica Brandier was now free of that cycle. Free to begin again.

            For me it was over, Jessiica Damariis was the shadow of who I had been. May the Force be with her. She had her life I had mine; and mine was back in Amber.

            I felt a disturbance in the Force, near the Pattern of Amber. I teleported within the Chamber.

            Lord Nor crashed through the heavy steel door, not quite the vampire I was expecting, but a threat to Amber just the same. He tried to intimidate me using his Force enhanced vampiric abilities, but that was another life. I am a Jedi and a Duchess of Amber, the woman he knew was gone, and I am not easily intimidated.

            I knew a prolonged lightsabre duel or even a battle of psyches would take too long, and there was the possibility he could defeat me, however remote that chance was. I summoned Force Lightning and reduced the undead Dark Jedi to ash.

            The tingling sensation of channeling the Force Lightning through my own hand, a living hand, rather than the cybernetic one, was almost pleasant. I could hear the Dark Side calling me to use it again. This time I was strong enough to resist and begin my penance instantly, cleansing myself of its influences.

            During my brief absence, while I was making myself whole, my companions had chased the vampire, now known as Vanclor, to a shadow they named Masquerade.

            The technology was roughly equal that of 20^th Century Shadow Earth, but no fossil fuels were used. The primary transportation was horse drawn wagons, steam engines or an occasional diesel engine using a non-petroleum based fuel. The clothing styles were pseudo-Victorian. People carried swords of all shapes and sizes in a manner reminiscent of the classical old west or musketeer genre.

             Historical notes in reference to Shadow Earth: The Republic of Texas retained its original boundaries and included New Mexico. The Republic of California controlled all of the west coast. The “Manifest Destiny” of the United States had stopped dead at the Mississippi. The Coalition -- a nation of Native American tribes - controlled the rest of the North American continent except for Quebec and Ontario. Then there was Mexico which controlled all of Central America.

            Vampires had virtually wiped out the Garou or werewolves and most other gothic horrors. By 1941 A.D., the Kindred Wars had reduced the Garou population to around 1000. An unnamed, reportedly immortal, scientist gave the Garou a silver antigen, along with the formula to create more, and virtual immortality. The year we arrived in San Antonio de Bexar was 2001 A.D. and the Garou population continued to decline, at best seventy-five were left.

            The architecture was heavy in Spanish-gothic influences. Even more so than the San Antonio of Shadow Earth. We took the Imperial Suite in the Quacoatl Inn. We dressed appropriately for the shadow and took off searching for a way into the Kindred society.

            Most of us went to a nightclub called Los Diablos. I found my way to a higher class establishment called The Rose. Once there I made myself a target and soon found myself before the “Prince of the City” a handsome, vampire named Travers Rodriguez-Lopez-de Santa Anna-Dickerson.

            In this shadow it seems vampires are born of Kindred and human mating as well as by blood exchange from sire to neonate. Most vampiric researchers can find references to such creatures, though they are generally considered rare. Traditionally they were vampire hunters, the sons of gypsies and Kindred, most often called Dhampir. It seems the prince was the son of Lieutenant Dickerson’s daughter and the grandson of Generalismo Antonio Lopez-de Santa Anna, turned vampire.

            I learned he singled me out because I had what he called ‘Potent Blood’ and had the scent of Kindred about me. After all this time scent of Lord Nor still lingered on me . . . at least among the Kindred.

            I was left alone with him in his private chambers. He locked his gaze upon mine . . . a mistake on his part . . . I turned my superior Amber Psyche against his. I learned he knew Vanclor and hated him. I learned Vanclor’s weakness was his sense of superiority, not only among his own kind but toward all creatures. At least now I understood why he wanted Amber.

            I used my Amber borne powers and the Force to affect his memory, drawing upon my knowledge of Lord Nor’s reactions, to make him believe he had actually tasted my ‘Potent Blood.’ The memories were so vivid, I actually found myself desiring to experience the rapture again. From his mind I could tell he not only desired my blood, but my physical body as well. Physical and emotional pleasure at once . . . he wanted me. Not just for herd stock or a daily meal, he desired me as an equal . . . a mate.

            I uncovered my breasts, but just before his tongue and fangs could touch them, a Logrus tendril grabbed me and I found myself with my companions. The spell was broken, but not forgotten.

            My companions had gathered the same information from a Garou named Antonio Cloud-Walker MacEwen. He was a crossbreed between a Native American, the Celtic and the Royal Garou clans. His occupation: Vampire-hunter. [He also provided us with the background information of this shadow.]

            Together with the aid of the Garou hunter we trapped Vanclor. Owen alone stood against the vampire, while the rest of us dealt with the minions who followed the Pattern-charged monster. MegaForce was brought down by a follower of Vanclor, believing himself damned he gave himself to his vampire attacker.

            No one else seemed to notice the Kindred slit his own wrist and offer it to the fallen hero, turning him into a Kindred neonate. I saw Mark St. John’s instinct for survival join forces with the combat rage of his alter ego MegaForce, under those influences he entered what the Kindred call a Frenzie. He drained his sire dry, his natural powers overwhelming the ‘dying’ vampire, becoming a vampire of equal stature as the one who created him, sending his sire to a final death.

            No one witnessed the tragedy, for better or worse, there was a new vampire among us. No one but me. MegaForce had been a friend, for now I’ll keep his secret.

            Returning to Amber, I learned more disturbing news, Jessiica Damariis escaped MageWorld and according to Michael she had a piece of the Kaiburr Crystal; Escrima, Michael’s staff-dragon, has gone off on his own; and I don’t recall anyone retrieving the Jewel of Judgement from Vanclor.

            Jessiica was becoming my Darth Vader, and like Luke Skywalker, I must confront her someday . . . turn her or destroy her . . . alone. She is part of me, but separate. She IS what I might have been or could yet still be. Every bit as real . . . every bit as dangerous to Amber.

            As a Jedi I have my work cut out for me . . . for it seems not only must I act as guardian of peace and justice, but defender of Chaos, Amber and all of Shadow against the consequences of my very existence. I wonder if Michael ever regrets taking me to Amber as much as I now regret having gone with him?

            A proverb from Shadow Earth: “You’ve made your bed, now sleep in it.”

            Its gonna be a long night. I might as well make the most of it.

            I’d been roaming shadow enjoying life as an Amberite to its fullest potential. In a shadow similar to Jasmine’s home, I met a young woman named Alanna Buchanan. She was taller and heavier than I, standing 5'11" and weighing about 145 pounds, solid muscle. She had long, black hair that fell between her shoulder blades. Her accent was Gaelic, though she spoke perfect “English.” She was a “Gothic Hunter” by trade. Which meant she didn’t discriminate, she hunted all the traditional gothic horrors. Seemed to me, she was the perfect companion for my search for knowledge in dealing with such creatures.

            One afternoon, I was lying naked atop my bed, in the two-bedroom apartment we’d rented, with the windows and doors of my room open to let in the warm breeze. No artificial air circulation systems were developed in this shadow and the last days of Spring were a bit warm. I heard the front door to the apartment open, I felt her presence. I knew it was Alanna, so I thought nothing of it. She was no threat.

            Our rooms were separated by a narrow hall with the refresher room at the end of the corridor. My door was nearest the front of the apartment. She had to pass my room to get to hers or the refresher. Today she stopped at my door and stared at my body, glistening with sweat. Then she did something truly unexpected, after all we had been together; four months hunting vampires, werewolves and other creatures of the night, alone many times before. She slowly raised her fingers to her blouse and started unbuttoning it. As she walked over to me her blouse came off, followed by her skirt.

            She knelt on the bed, her full round 35" breast only centimeters from my lips. The next thing I knew, she was sucking on her tit while she was plugging up my vaginal hole with her fingers.

            She leaned down to kiss me. Her tongue was inside my mouth and felt more comfortable than any other tongue had ever been. I felt her other hand on my left breast, tracing the areola. Then she lightly pinched my nipple as she started kissing my neck.

            In a blink of an eye, or less time, we were cuddled together, intimately twined. She kissed me and I kissed her back. She pressed her breasts into mine, and she rustled her lush, furry mound tantalizingly against my naturally bare one.

            Alanna pulled me on top of her face to face. For a few minutes we made love to each other that way. I gave in first followed only seconds by my partner.

            Catching my breath, I stared into Alanna’s beautiful brown eyes, then kissed her as a lover, whispering, “That was incredible!”

            “Oh darling!” She whispered as we separated, “I have so much to teach you!”

            “I might know more that you think,” I said wryly, as I crawled on top of Alanna’s hard, firm beautiful body and inhaled deeply. I ran my fingers through her thick mound of black vaginal fur and I felt her touching the core of mine with equally loving hands.

            We went on like this for several weeks. Unfortunately Alanna was killed during the winter months later by a werewolf we had been hunting. I left that shadow and returned to Amber, where only a few hours had passed. Of all the sexual encounters I’ve had, except for my first experience with Michael, none have given me as much pleasure as the year with Alanna.

            Being the only Jedi in Amber, King Random has assigned me arbitration duties along the Golden Circle. Returning from one such mission, I was ambushed by the minions of Mandor. They claim I was responsible for his death and that I would soon be a slave or a dead queen in T’Amber. At the time I thought he had coughed and confused me with someone else, but I would soon know the folly of my own designs.

            During the attack upon Amber led by Jessiica and Damien, while I was trying to retrace the Pattern, I had actually created a new refraction of the Pattern. I had created a world where magic and technology coexist with in the walls of the One City . . . I accidentally created T’Amber, id est TECH-AMBER.

            All the elder T’Amberites died during the battle. Michael’s counterpart (Mikael) was the rightful heir, but declined. Valian’s alter ego (Valon) also declined. Owen’s other (Eoin) swore his sword to the throne, but would not sit upon it. That left “me.”

            As I understand it now, Jesyca, assumed the throne under duress by default. Belle was not even in the running being so far down on the family tree, and not having been born, but created.

            Owan beheaded the clone Jesyyca, Daimon, and Mandore . . . three years ago, but that’s enough T’Amber history . . .

            The minions of Mandore, led by his son Acanford, held me prisoner in a dungeon darker and damper than any in Amber. I’m not sure how much time actually passed, but it seemed and eternity:

            I was bound spread-eagle to the floor and raped repeatedly by the six of them. My breasts were bruised and bleeding from their rough handling and biting on them. My anus and vagina both sore and bleeding. Then the left me alone for a time, chained wrist and ankle to the floor.

             When they returned, they chained me to the ceiling. The tips of my toes barely scraped the cold, damp, bloodstained floor. I felt the sting of a leather whip against my naked back. Through the Force I held back my pain, not giving them the satisfaction of crying out or showing any sign of displeasure. I could feel the flesh splitting and the blood begin to trickle . . . still I had no concept of time. I had been swaying with each stroke of the whip, each time my toes scraped the stone floor, now blood dripped from their tips.

            They poured salt on my nearly fileted back, a single tear rolled down my cheek, but I made no sound. I forced myself into a hybernation trance.

            They were persistent with their tortures. When they returned again, they placed leaches on me. Hot coals and broken glass were placed on the floor beneath my feet. I was lowered sightly, the balls of my feet almost could reach the floor now. Then they swung me like a pendulum, back and forth, over the glass and coals. My feet were cut to ribbons and covered with third degree burns. My breasts and legs began to ache and grow cold from blood loss. I knew I could resist outbursts until they killed me, but I wanted to live! I screamed . . .

            My pains were so intense that my cry sent ripples through the Force, waves so deep that the leaches shriveled and fell off. I was so drained that I hardly noticed being lowered into the smoldering coals and broken glass. I had given them what they wanted. They had broken me.

            Finally unchained, with roaring laughter, they threw me into a corner still bloody and naked. “Here, my queen, you can have your dress back,” one of them mockingly said tossing my living silk dress at me.

            I had to stretch out my leg to reach it. I was almost too weak to move. When my bleeding toe touched the blue gown, I collapsed, but the symbiotic entity sprang to life.

            I felt a calm rushing over me, the warmth of the sun, the cool tingle of a forest stream, the gentle softness of a rabbits fur, the scent of a spring rain. My Arborian companion had covered my entire body, like a cocoon. Slowly, almost like a lover’s caress, it began to resume its usual form. My wounds were healed, my body still sore, but I was whole.

            I could feel the exhaustion of my symbiotic companion, intensified by my own. I reached out with the Force to draw strength for both of us. Cold . . . darkness . . . a Trump . . . “Michael!”

            It was too dark to see clearly. I used the Force to magnify the light from the coals. The shadows grew longer, my sense of despair began to return, but he could see me now. I tried to reach out.

            Michael’s “witch light” spell illuminated the room well. He and Valian stood knelt beside me. They both seemed much older, perhaps it was a trick of the light. Weakly I embraced them both and they helped me to stand.

            Valian punched through the wall, into the back of a small wall safe unit. Extracting his hand from the small chamber, he brought with him my Trump deck and my lightsabre. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t there before, it was possible and the Pattern made it so.

            As we made our way slowly out of the dungeon, ironically below Castle T’Amber, Michael related to me the history of this shadow. He also told me how he destroyed MageWorld in a vain attempt to stop Jessiica and Mandor. It was this event that had aged him and Valian.

            Standing on the roof of Castle T’Amber, I surveyed the world I had created. The royal guard carried blasters and forcepikes. Their armor still carried the Royal Crest of Amber, but reminded me of the Crimson Guard of Palpatine. The city resembled Coruscant. Everywhere I looked, I saw reminders of my home shadow.

            I wanted to go home . . . to Amber. I led my friends around the rim of the wheel. Riding the very currents that create shadow. Right into my apartment in Castle Amber. I thanked Michael and Valian again for rescuing me and they departed. I showered dress and all, then went to the tree of Ygg in my garden below my balcony.

            I spent hours in meditation and discussion with the tree of life. Eventually I fell into a deep restful sleep. Michael woke me hours later. Standing beside him, our daughter, Michaela Jesslyn Brandiericsson, now a grown woman of nineteen.

            The last time we had seen her she was only fourteen. Together we entered the Great Hall for a light snack and a session of “catch up.” Although most Amberites make poor parents, we are concerned about our progeny, usually only when in our own best interests. Michael and I were no different.

            Fully recovered from my ordeal in T’Amber, I gave Random my report from my Golden Circle mission. He then asked me to return to T’Amber and present them with a Golden Circle treaty. I agreed, I was the most logical choice since I had created the Shadow, even if it was by accident.

            The followers of Mandore’s son Acanford had been captured and sentenced to death when I returned. Jesyca was a weaker, more timid ruler than I expected. Flawed by my mistakes, possessing a biomechanical hand as I had when I created this atrocity, but eager to accept King Random’s treaty.

            I spent several weeks with her learning about her Kingdom. I told her of my ordeal on her behalf. She could not apologize enough. She even asked to share the memories in hopes of better understanding, something I don’t believe I ever would have done, I refused. It would be using the Force to bring harm to another, emotionally scarring her, for no reason other than to satisfy her masochistic desires for empathy with my suffering.

            During my time with her I noticed other physical differences between us. She was slightly taller; her hair darker, browner, shorter; her eyes blue as the sparks from the Pattern; her skin paler, softer; she even had the “natural” body hair I did not.

            Her brother Owan had a scar over his right eye from the battle for T’Amber. He was shorter than my brother and wore his hair short except for a Padawan braid. His dragonhead katana was all black, reminding me of the KenLung Sword.

            Belvia’s wings were permanently damaged during the battle and she was considerably shorter than my “half-sister.” Her hair was white and braided. She wore an emerald halter top and miniskirt made of spun silk so sheer you could not tell it was there except for the color. She also carried a Blastec DL-44 and a rapier.

            Mikael and Valon were both younger than my cousins, and far less powerful. Aside from that I found no major differences between them and my relations.

            Following breakfast one morning I took my leave and set off for Amber. I promised to return with the signed treaty and an invitation from King Random to visit Amber itself.

Amber Time: 2402.8 d’L dewa ~///

            A Shadow Storm chased me to Amber. I used all the powers at my disposal to hold it back, even the Dark Side of the Force. I finally lost the storm in a shadow where technology and magic coexisted. A shadow where man and machine were slowly merging. Where man had mutated into creatures of legend, elves, dwarves, trolls, ogres, but some humans remained. The world reminded me of Shadow Earth, but there had been an upheaval or war of some sort. Mega-Corporations had taken over whole countries.

            Jasmine had been here for sometime. Titan, Belle, Julia and Valian were chased here by a shadow storm not long before I was. From Jasmine’s information we learned it was 2070 A.D. and my clone Jessiica had created a Mega-corp called GhostWheel Industrial Automation.

            I can’t explain why but the very name of that corporation raises the hackles on my neck.

            We all found ways to incorporate our talents and skills into the culture of this world. We could not Trump out, or use the Pattern or Logrus to get us out so we had to play Jessiica’s little game to its conclusion.

            She was selling STAR WARS technology and supporting anti-government factions on all fronts. Unfortunately for me she was also a wanted criminal and since we were a genetic match it was difficult to convince the local authorities I was not her.

            After a month of mishaps we managed to combine our mental abilities with Jasmine’s computer skills and enter the matrix. There we encountered a familiar yet strange presence. It sent a tremor through the Force . . . through the very nature of shadow. It had the power to push us out of the GhostWheel Industrial Automation’s computer system.

            While Titan, Valian, and Jasmine worked on improving our cyber defenses, I began dating an elvish man I had met in a club one night. His stamina rivaled even Michael.

            Finally after another month had passed, we were ready to attempt to bring down Jessiica’s computer system again. This time when we jacked in we saw the presence I felt. It was a living embodiment of the Pattern, but its origin eluded me.

            It came at us, I could sense its intent was not a friendly one. I know we had only one chance to slow it down and jack out . . . the Force was the only real power in the virtual world. I hurled Force-lighting at it.

            We were thrown out of the net and out of that shadow . . . at least I was. I knew the others were alive but I knew not where.

            Wherever I am, my Trumps don’t work. I began Hellriding toward Amber. My path took me through a fast time shadow where I discovered I the nature of my condition. I was four months pregnant upon leaving it and arriving in Amber. Unfortunately it wasn’t my Amber.

            Escrima was right, I jumped spokes. I presented myself to the Random of this Amber. He allowed me to stay for as long as I chose to. I remained for a month after my daughter was born. I named her Amanda, but I asked Flora to raise her. Flora agreed, and promised not to tell her of her true origin. I could not risk losing another child the way I lost Michaela, and I had to find a way back to my Amber. It was a task to difficult to risk with an infant.

            The Kaiburr crystal within my lightsabre had cracked, the Pattern within was useless. My weapon was no more powerful than any other constructed. With Random’s permission I walked the Pattern of this Amber in hopes it would take me to mine.

            I succeeded, but the transition changed me for the worse. I was weaker physically and mentally than I had been the first day I stepped into Amber, a far cry from the legendary defender of the realm I was. Perhaps someday I will be there again.

            In the mean time I have to return to Shadow and find Michael and the others, for you see they never came back home either. Perhaps I will find myself during my search for my friends and relatives. Only the Force and the Pattern know for sure.

Amber Time: 2417.5 d’L dewa until 2420.5 d’L dewa

I was lost in shadow trying to find my way home.

Amber Time: 2420.1 d’L maga ~/

            I suppose it’s time I continued my journals. When I last transcribed anything, it was

2408.8 d’L dewa ~/// in [my] Amber.

            My companions and I were lost in Shadow as I had been. I left my second daughter in a Shadow of Amber much different from the Amber I called home. I hoped the Flora of that Amber would make her a better mother than I could.

            [The Dream: 2417.5 d’L dewa – my time; 2406.5 d’L dewa–her time. I was running down a long dark corridor lit only by glowing crystals on the walls. I could feel her presence, her fear. Then I could see her running toward me (unaware) from a huge spiraling force of blue-white light–like a living Pattern. It looked like a shadow of GhostWheel and it was pursuing my daughter. In a rage I hurled a Force Lightning bolt at Merlin’s creation as I drew my lightsabre. GhostWheel backed away.

            “Take the Pattern, and the true power of the Force will be yours to command,” I herd myself say as I woke.

            She was 13 the first time. The dreams continued to haunt me until she was about 17: 2420.5 d’L dewa – my time; 2410.5 d’L dewa–her time. That last time she brought with her (somehow) her best friend Pallas, daughter of Dierdre. I remember giving her a shard of the Kaiburr Crystal as I woke unable to speak the truth of my identity to her. ]

            I concluded the diplomatic duties between Amber and the twisted Shadow of my creation, T’Amber, I returned to Star Wars. Many changes since my last visit: Luke had married Mara Jade. The Solo kids were Jedi Knights. Chewbacca was dead, and a new enemy threatened the galaxy. This was no longer my home . . . I returned to Amber.

Amber Time: 2420.08 d’L maga

            I’m leaving Amber again to find my friends. It’s winter in Amber, my least favorite time of year. Everything is dead, in a manner of speaking. I reluctantly cram my feet into a pair of boots, instead of my comfortable sandals. I put on a heavy black, hooded cloak. I had also put on a pair of nylon hose. My dress grew to ankle length and around it I wrapped a woolen skirt. Too many layers for my comfort, but the alternative is expending all my energy to regulate my body temperature. My Mandalorian vambrace, my lightsabre, a pair of black gloves, and my Trump deck to complete my ensemble and I’m off shifting Shadows. The first Shadow on my Hellride passed eleven years in Amber for the eighteen months I was there.

            All through this search for my companions, I haven’t been able to escape the “ice and snow” it’s winter in every Shadow I’ve entered. I arrived in a Shadow called Prydain. I feel as if I’ve been drawn here.

            I wandered into a town known as Caer Brecon. It was a small town in the midst of a woodland valley. The population was no more than two hundred, possibly less. It reminds me of the town where I met Jonathan Mistraven at the Narwal.

            I entered a boisterous tavern called the Sleeping Dragon. Three hearths blazed with the smell of oak and elm. Candles flickered in the chandeliers above. Men and women of all shapes and sizes caroused all around, but despite the cheery atmosphere I could feel a darkness, an evil, in the air. The garb of the people around me was Welsh in design, my dress altered to suit. 

            The clientele was human or near-human. Nowhere near as varied as Mos Eisley’s Cantina or Adylroc’s place the Spacer’s Rest. The tavern itself was larger than even Bloody Pete’s. There were rooms to rent on the upper floors. This was the inn of my desire.

            A single, unoccupied table in the corner opposite the door with full view of the chamber was soon where I rested my tired legs.

            A lovely young woman came over to my table to take my order. She wore a royal blue skirt, a black bodice, over a sky blue chemise. Her figure was fuller than mine. Her hair a shade brighter red, and her eyes were blue. She wore a leather vambrace on each wrist and a dagger at her waist. We could almost pass for twins. Her name was Ruth. I ordered three large steak dinners, a bowl of soup, a tankard of ale, and a bottle of their best wine. Ruth asked how soon I was expecting my companions. She was shocked when I told her it was all for me.

            Ruth brought me the first of the three dinners and the wine. “Mi Lady, I have been asked to collect payment before I bring you the rest of your order,” she said humbly.

            I reached under the table and picked up the bag of gold coins dropped by the table’s previous occupant. I opened the bag and pulled out the necessary amount, leaving myself ample gold to support myself while I stayed in town.

            The vegetables on the first plate tasted like cardboard and the steak reminded me of Tauntaun, but I ate it. The second and third rounds were more to my liking. The ale tasted like droid lube, but the wine though not Bayle’s Piss was an excellent vintage.

            As I ate, Ruth spun the tale of Prydain from the legendary Black Cauldron to the current threat of the Horned King. Ruth, herself was orphaned at the age of nine and has wandered Prydain doing odd jobs or stealing to survive. She had all the skills of a fine lady, but not the chance.

            A man with a pallid face and eyes like stones entered the tavern. Heavy bands of bronze circled his waist, and from his belt hung the black thongs of whips. Knobs of bronze studded his breastplate. He bore no shield or helmet. His mouth was frozen in the hideous grin of death.

            Ruth leaped over the bartender and landed beside a table of warriors, unhindered by the dress she wore, her cloak falling to the ground. She drew the sword of the man nearest her and hurled it at the livid warrior before anyone could react. She shouted, “Die again, Cauldron-born!” The blade of the broadsword sand deep into the chest of the undead warrior and pinned it to the frame of the door. The girl was a natural warrior and obviously had a grudge against the undead warriors created in the Black Cauldron.

            The warrior whose sword she had thrown and his friends dispatched the Cauldron-born and returned to their table. He invited Ruth to join them and presented her with a dagger worthy of any highborn lady. I stood at the top of the stairs, listened and watched. The band of mercenaries had noble intentions, in fact two of the five were women, although from their build and dress it was difficult to tell.

            I quietly left the tavern and went to a weaponsmith. I purchased an elegant sword, perfectly balanced for a woman’s hand. A scabbard and a gold chainmail belt to hang it from and returned to the Sleeping Dragon. These items I presented to Ruth. “Take these as my gift to you. You’ve proven your worth and I believe it’s highly probable you will be treated with respect from now on. The rest of you, take care of my friend and train her well,” I said tossing a few coins on the table, enough to pay each a month’s wages.

Amber Time: 2420.10 d’L maga

             I claimed a table in the back corner, near a hearth, and ordered another bottle of wine. The wine was almost too sweet, but when you’re used to Bayle’s all others fall short. The day waned, the night waxed. I lost count of the number of bottles I consumed. I borrowed some tobacco from a man at a nearby table and rolled it in a piece of parchment I got from another. I lit it with the flame of the candle on the table. It wasn’t as good a smoke as the Marlboro 100s from Shadow Earth I was used to, but it smoked.

            I tossed the butt into the fire and looked up to find the serving girl. Three men stood at the table, staring at me. One I had never seen before (though he had a familiar scent), the other two old friends. “MICHAEL!” I leaped over the table into his arms and gave him a hug. I squeezed so hard I heard a vertebrae pop. The stranger was introduced as Conan Pandron, son of Lord Falto of Chaos and Princess Fiona of Amber. He was from the same Shadow where I left Amanda and knew her well. The third member of the party was my friend Spyder.

            Calling upon the Force, I quickly detoxified myself. We ordered a meal and two bottles of wine each. Over wine and dinner we exchanged tales of the last seventeen Amber years. The I repeated what I had learned of Prydain. I was a bit disappointed, though not surprised, in Michael for not believing in me when I told them the power-maddened woman I had been was gone. What was left was a penitent Jedi trying to atone for the evil she’d done, again. He probed my mind to see if I had been telling the truth or if I was lying. I offered no resistance, not that I could have done much without the aid of the Kaiburr Crystal or the Dark Side. I don’t even think he knew I was aware of his probe.

            Michael proposed we meet with the Horned King and try to reason with him. He teleported us to a spot outside of town and conjured all the necessary accouterments for a campaign camp. A wagon which would have carried the supplies, horses to draw the wagon, and transport for us. A huge walled tent, a large table and (thank the Force) a heater.

            I used the Pattern to manipulate the temperature inside the tent more quickly than normal. I was too busy keeping warm to hear all the details when the Horned King arrived (like I said I hate cold), but the result of the negotiations was a conflict. The Horned King responded to Michael’s message, sent via carrier pigeon, and came with three guards (barbarians all). He was more impressive than I imagined. A tall muscular man dressed in crimson wearing a human skull facemask with the rack of a stag attached to his helm.

            An army of Cauldron-born and Barbarians lay in wait to strike. Two large dragon-like creatures called Gwythaints carried off our pavilion. The battle raged. I carved down everything that came my way, as did Conan. Spyder did his share of carnage. Michael blasted the undead with his sorcery. Still they came. Had it not been for the arrival of Prince Gwydion and his men, we would have been lost.

            After thanking Prince Gwydion for his aid, we agreed to help him invade Annuvin and destroy the Black Cauldron. Conan stepped off into Shadow to raise an army of our own, while the rest of us gathered what remained of our gear and joined Gwydion. Gwydion’s army camped a kilometer or so outside town. Michael, Spyder and I went back into Caer Brecon for supplies and to warm up with a drink and a fire.

            Spyder webbed the Horned King’s head like a trophy over the main entrance to the Sleeping Dragon as we entered. Conan arrived moments later. Valian and Escrima sat at a far table watching us. We approached with caution, since the last time Michael had seen any thing that resembled Escrima, it attacked him. Both of them were glad to see Michael and Spyder, but had reservations about me. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t given them good reason, but it still hurt.

            Escrima insisted on using the Kaiburr Crystal fragment he possessed to look into my soul. I begged him not to, explaining that it had been done recently by the Random of Conan’s Shadow, and our own king, and since the fragment I carried was now flawed the whole process left me feeling more violated than all the debauchery had done. Neither Escrima nor Valian would trust me unless I allowed it, despite Michael’s assurances that I had changed. Reluctantly I gave in and lowered all my psychic defenses.

            Valian touched Escrima to bond their psyches and together they probed my innermost secrets. Escrima was more attuned to the Jewel than even Random, in fact he was more an embodiment of it, so his touch was gentler. That didn’t lessen the effect, but it made it a bit more tolerable. Once they had finished, Valian embraced everyone in his traditional group hug. That made the feelings of anxiety lessen and feel more like love than rape.

            After a few minutes of reminisces and catch up Valian and Escrima flew off to offer their services to Prince Gwydion. The rest of us lagged behind on horseback. In the cold early hours of daybreak our armies set out for Annuvin.

            We lost a few hundred to Cauldron-born before we reached the Hills of Bren-Galedd. We lost near a thousand in the treacherous passes and snowstorms of the Hills. Near the base of Mount Dragon we engaged the Death-Lord’s army.

            I used the Force skill Enhance Coordination to aid our armies while Valian, Michael, Escrima, and Spyder attacked Arawn’s fortress directly. Michael, the idiot, threw himself into the Black Cauldron to end its powers. They called me to help save him. I succeeded, but I went unconscious as well.

            The battle won, Conan went in search of his Amber. Escrima helped him find it. When Escrima returned we went home, to our Amber.

Amber Time: 2421.5 d’L asada ///<

            I took a walk through the gardens. Benedict’s Japanese Garden was finally finished, as Japanese Gardens go. I walked past to the garden Michael had planted for me a lifetime ago. The sapling of Ygg was now a full-grown ash. Winter had left and the sun hung high in the sky. As I approached the tree, I received a Trump call from Valian and Lady Julia (a.k.a. Ghostrider). I pulled them through. “Were we interrupting something important?” Valian asked.

            “No, I was just visiting Michael’s sapling,” I answered.

            “Come closer,” the voice of the tree echoed in our heads. “All who seek peaceful shade are welcome beneath my branches.”

            “Thank you, old friend,” I replied. “I wasn’t sure whether you would still speak to me.”

            “Do you feel remorse for the things you’ve done?” Ygg asked.

            “Yes,” I answered looking at the ground and not the tree.

            “Then you are welcome.”

            I stepped forward and sat at the base of the tree. I leaned against it with my back to its trunk, as I had done many times in the past. Ygg and I discussed my misdeeds and my future. We discussed the damaged crystal and lost powers. We discussed my daughters. I learned the tree had become a power unto itself. It had completely absorbed Corwin’s Pattern and the image of the Logrus Suhuy and the serpent had created to balance the powers and had itself become that balance. That had been part of what caused Corwin’s Pattern to act as it did when my companions and I rescued Prince Corwin from the Horrors.

            A lifeless, faceless, golem-like body of a ninja flew from Benedict’s garden and landed nearby. I drew my Jedi weapon and vaulted the shrubbery to aid whoever was on the other side. It was Benedict, surrounded by at least half-a-dozen golems. They were overwhelming him. My blade ignited and I went to his aid. We tried to spare the last two for questioning, but to no avail. The one I entangled with vines from the garden died without cause. As it turned out they were animated lumps of flesh with no life to speak of.

            Valian and Lady Julia (a.k.a. Ghostrider) asked me to help them solve the mystery of Lord Falto’s murder in Lady Julia’s home in Chaos. I used the Force to Farsee the past. One of the soulless ninja had stepped through an unknown Way and killed him. In our search for the assassin we came upon a bigger problem. A forgotten or unknown son of Mandor and Fiona with designs on Amber.

            Lady Julia led us through the Ways of Chaos to a lone cliff containing hidden ways and chambers. In these chambers we found life-sized Trump paintings, cloning vats, and an army of the soulless ninja borne from them. It all happened so quickly many of the details are lost. Eventually we encountered Nathaniel himself. A shaky armistice was agreed upon and he left Amber intact.

Amber Time: 2421.5 d’L posya /<

            I sat upon three stone steps, or perhaps it was a fallen altar. A blue-white mist lay upon the ground all around me. I don’t know if it was sunrise or sunset, but the sky was a golden yellow near the horizon and shades of red as the light rose finally reaching a midnight blue terminus above. A circle of standing stones surrounding me, much like Stonehenge of Shadow Earth. The strange lighting made my blue dress appear green. I noticed my sandals were nowhere in sight and my feet were bare. A gold band was on my right ankle and a matching one on my right wrist. My vambrace and lightsabre were missing. I closed my eyes and let the Force flow through me, as I tried to make sense of my surroundings.

            The sounds of combat from behind and to the left. Two figures, one wearing a dark hooded robe carrying a staff weapon, the other could have been Michael, Corwin, or even my brother Owen. The lighting played so poorly upon my eyes I could not make out the details.

            As the combatants drew nearer, the metal bands on my wrist and ankle became magnetically attached to the stones. I sat there helplessly watching the duel. I closed my eyes and tried using the Force to will myself free to no avail.

            A dark ghostly demon appeared hovering in the air. Its arms were upraised bearing a sword in its bony right hand. Its head resembled a human skull with the horns of a Texas Longhorn. A white light surrounded the apparition.

            The hooded combatant jumped away from the man and turned toward me. She raised her weapon, as if it were an axe or a hammer, to crush my skull. Her resemblance to my mother was uncanny. Could she be one of the lost sisters Corwin eluded to in his chronicles or just a Shadow double?

            The man parried her staff only millimeters from my head. They continued to fight. The sky grew dark, only the light cast by the apparition and the swirling mists gave any illumination. The howling of wolves echoed in the background, along with the war cries of Dathomir Nightsisters.

            The ghostly apparition swooped toward me taking the form of a human female with the fangs of a vampire.

            An advanced level Trump Artist can call upon the power of cards without the physical object in hand. A Jedi can use the Force to locate a single life-form across great distances. I am a Jedi. I used to possess the knowledge of an advanced level Trump Artist . . .

            I shot to my feet. I was dripping with sweat, precariously perched on the edge of my balcony, in Castle Amber. The summer breeze carried the scents of Michael’s garden up to me. The ashen scent of Ygg among them. As I calmed myself and stepped back from the edge I noticed my vambrace and lightsabre back where they belonged.

            I felt a disturbance in the Force, like a Trump call. It was the tree. I opened my mind and the image of Ygg appeared before me in a rainbow frame. “What troubles you, daughter of the Force?” asked the ancient tree.

            “A dream, or perhaps a premonition,” I responded. “I am uncertain which.”

            “You sense the disturbance, too?” Ygg inquired.

            “Yes,” I answered. “I feel a terrible evil is about to descend upon Amber. A legion led by the lost children of Oberon.”

            “Come to me, child. We must heal your damaged crystal and use its lens to see from whence this comes.”

            I stepped through the rainbow frame to the island that had once been the home of Corwin’s Pattern. The walking stick he planted at the beginning of his Pattern, now an ancient tree. The same which absorbed both the sign of the Logrus that Merlin had trapped below Corwin’s Pattern and the Pattern itself. Yggdrasil was the balance of the powers.

            “Remove the Kaiburr Crystal fragment from your Jedi weapon,” the tree instructed. I did so, as Ygg explained, “Do you remember years ago when seeking your mother how you damaged it? Then how you restored its power?”

            How could I forget? The others certainly hadn’t. We were in a Shadow dominated by the Dark Side. None of our powers worked properly and we had walked the Pattern within the Kaiburr Crystal fragment I held to enhance our abilities. I gave in to the Dark Side and tried to dominate or destroy them all. Had it not been for Owen’s quick thinking I would have succeeded. The end result was a quivering, broken mage; a band of wary relatives, and a lifeless Crystal in the hands of an unremorseful Dark Jedi.

            It took the restless spirit of a little girl in a dead city to make me realize what I had done. I reached into my lightsabre, through the Force, seeking the darkened crystal. I transferred into it a portion of my own life-force. The crystal began to glow anew, pulsing with life once more.

            “Yes, Yggdrasil,” I said with my head bowed in shame. “I remember.”

            “Place the shard in the fork of my lower branches,” Ygg continued. “Together we shall walk the broken Pattern within and heal it by leaving a part of ourselves behind within.”

            As the three dimensional mental roller coaster ride began, the mysteries of my origins unfolded. Dierdre never knew Brand was the father of her children, until years later. Brand told her when they fell into the Abyss at the end of the Patternfall War. Brand helped her out of the Abyss and placed her in the shrine on Sith World.

            Apparently we were supposed to be part of Brand’s plot against Amber, but Fiona and Bleys imprisoned him before we were of use to him. Afterward we were forgotten.

            The first crack in the Crystal healed.

            Growing up in Amber . . . Owen . . . Michael . . . Mary and Jonathan . . . my own adventures in Star Wars . . . my memories lost and forgotten in shadow . . .

            Another crack healed within the Crystal fragment Yggdrasil held. I couldn’t help wondering: was it the Pattern, the Force, Old Ygg himself, or something else that was revealing these things to me? Memories I had suppressed for so long they were forgotten. Answers to questions I might never have known. Tragedies that shaped my life and blackened my soul.

            As we continued on the roller coaster of the 3-D Pattern, I relived the day I met Prath. The day he turned to the Dark Side. The day he sent his Black Stormtroopers after us. The deadly Force Lightning bolt he threw at Silisity, the young orphan of the rebellion against the Empire I had taken as my own. I tapped the Dark Side that day and tried to destroy him using all the powers at my disposal.

            The day I met Damien Omega . . . discovered the clones of Palpatine and Vader . . . the day I lost my left hand to that Sith Bow . . . the day I met Michael again . . . walking the Pattern again . . . the Kaiburr Crystal . . . Sith World . . . the ravishment . . . Prath in Amber . . . Michaela’s birth . . . it all became a blur . . . T’Amber . . . Amanda . . . the reunion . . . Yggdrasil and I staring into the Kaiburr Crystal and looking out from it.

            It was done. The Kaiburr Crystal was healed and I was exhausted. Through the lens of the Pattern I could see four female leaders marching against Amber. It was the future I saw, but how soon? Always emotion is the future difficult to see.

            “Dear Jessica,” Ygg said as I returned the Crystal to my lightsabre. “The Force has shown you your true self. Most Jedi aren’t that fortunate. Use the knowledge well.”

            “Thank you, Yggdrasil. I will endeavor to do just that. Now I must return to Amber and warn Random. Then I must do what I can to stop the invasion.”

            “May the Force be with you, always,” Old Ygg said as he Trumped me back to my balcony.

            “And with you, Old Ygg,” I replied to the wind. I turned and walked across my small semicircular balcony, through the large door into my bedroom. I went through the small door to my right into my bathroom. In case you didn’t know, thanks to a little magic and 19^th Century engineering, the parts of the Castle destroyed when the Serpent and the Unicorn clashed a few years ago (2393 d’L), have been rebuilt with a few amenities.

            I walked past my queen size, canopy bed. Through the open doorway, pausing a moment at my virtually empty dresser to look myself over in the wall mirror above and glance at the portraits of Michael and Michaela. I walked into my sitting room.

            I passed the liquor cabinet with a model of a YT-1300 displayed on top. I walked across my sapphire blue rug and kicked my sandals which I had carelessly thrown in the floor in front of my chair. I walked on and out the door without stopping to strap them on my feet. The cool stone floor felt good against my bare soles on this humid, hot summer day.

            I turned right and walked to the end of the corridor, turned left and then right again to the main stair. I climbed the stair to the third floor. I turned at the top of the stairs and proceeded to the door of Random’s sitting room. Queen Vialle answered the door.

            “Please forgive the intrusion, your majesty,” I said. “But I was wanting to discuss a possible threat to Amber which I have recently Farseen.”

            Vialle is only a little more than five feet tall, slightly shorter than myself, and quite slim. She’s a brunette, fine featured, very soft-spoken. She was wearing red. Her sightless eyes looked through me. It was a surprise to the entire royal family years ago when, after a forced marriage, it was discovered how much she truly loved my Uncle Random and that he truly loved her in return.

            “Come in, Jessica,” she said. “Random has gone with Benedict to visit T’Amber.”

            “Thank you, your majesty,” I courteously replied, curtseying out of respect even though the Queen was completely blind. I entered the sitting room and graciously sat on the couch beside her when asked. Over a glass of Bayle’s Best complimented with bread and cheese, I related my dream and the vision offered by the Kaiburr Crystal.

            After I finished my tale Queen Vialle said, “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I would like you to do what you can to learn more.”

            “Of course,” I responded. “That was my intent.”

            “Do you feel the danger is eminent or will we have time to prepare?”

            “The future is difficult to see, but no, I don’t feel it to be eminent.”

            “Then would you take me to your garden and talk with me a while?”

            “I would be honored, Aunt Vialle.”

            We sat on the stone bench Michael had so thoughtfully placed before the young sapling that was now a full grown ash shade tree, for what must have been hours before we moved to the ground immediately below the branches of Ygg. As I expected, we talked of her concern over my having the Kaiburr Crystal fragment whole again. As we talked I thing, she realized I was no longer the brash young girl I had once been. Ygg also entered into our conversation. He too was attuned to my Crystal and could use it against me should I even consider such a terrible thing.

            I learned more about Vialle than most, if not all the other Amberites combined, Random being the exception of course. In a moment of calm, I realized something she had not even told Random . . . “Aunt Vialle,” I said aloud, “you’re pregnant.”

            “Yes,” she said, “about three weeks. I haven’t told Random yet. I wanted to wait until I was sure. With your confirmation, I would like to tell him soon.”

            “I have my Trumps with me,” I offered without thinking. “Would you like to borrow them?”

            “You call him and inform him of the danger ahead. Then take my hand and bring me into the link. Then I’ll tell him.”

            I agreed. After I retold the story of my dream-vision, Vialle put her hand on my shoulder and gave Random the news. He almost jumped through the Trump with elation. When he calmed a bit, he turned to Benedict, who had been patiently standing behind him in the stables of T’Amber, and relayed the news. Random instructed Benedict to make his apologies to Queen Jesyca and took Vialle’s outstretched hand and came through.

            After hugging his wife, between cries and tears of joy, Random asked, “Is it a boy or a girl?” I closed my eyes and let the Force flow, but before I could answer, he recanted, “Never mind I don’t want to know.”

            So for now I’ll keep that little secret. My only concerns now are how this will affect Martin’s status in the eyes of the others. And how will Martin himself take the news?

            I took my Palomino, Goldenrod, and set out in search of the Shadow where my dream occurred, hoping for a clue. I tried to create a Trump of the place, but it didn’t work.

            Once I was far enough away, I began to shift Shadow. I knew I was looking for a place like Stonehenge of Shadow Earth. A world similar to Medieval Earth, or Camelot, in most respects, but a world few of the known children of Oberon had been to. Yggdrasil and I had determined it had been sunset in my vision so my ride had begun chasing sunsets.

            Changing from blue to green, yellow, then to purple, orange, finally the sky above the forest was red. Now I had to find the next sunset and the next, slowly leaving the thinning forest until I found the right shade of red.

            I rode along a clearly marked and well-used road, through a lightly forested area not quite open enough to be prairie, but too frequently filled with trees and wildflowers to be open plain. The sky was right now, I had to find the circle of stones.

            Just over the next hill I could see it. The road took a slight incline upward to another hill at the top of which I saw the standing stones. As I neared the top of the hill, I heard chanting. It was a mixture of Gaelic and Thari. Goldenrod stopped and tried to turn back. I reached out through the Force to the Kaiburr Crystal, from the Crystal’s strength I contacted Yggdrasil and had him Trump my horse to the safety of his valley.

            On foot now I cautiously approached the circle of standing stones. Over the chanting and words, it would be safe to assume, coming from the High Priestess, I heard the whinny of a unicorn. Once I got close enough to see, beyond the coven of hooded figures, a unicorn struggling against energy bonds generated from four sets of three crystals growing out of the ground around it. Its right rear and both forelegs were ensnared at the ankle joint, by what would best be described as an energy rope. The fourth set of three crystals produced a lasso effect around its neck.

            Its horn was at least two, maybe three feet long. Its coat shone blue-white against the light of its bonds. Its were hooves and horn a coppery-golden color. It looked more horse than unicorn, its large muscular body reared and pulled at the ropes of energy. The mane and tail, pure white and thicker than even the Unicorn of Amber. I had seen enough . . . ‘Snap-hiss.’ Lightsabre in hand I charged with a war cry that would have startled Benedict. Before the druidic coveners knew what had happened I shattered the first two sets of crystals. When the last two crystals were destroyed and the unicorn freed, it calmed. It knelt in gratitude. Unsure if the natives were friend or foe, I kept my guard up as I rubbed the unicorn’s neck.

            “As t-Samhradh troimhpe Unscornu bhios saor ˋa tursachan,” I heard the high priestess say.

            “Ise bidh aimn Seasaidh,” the high priest added.

            (Loosely translated into Shadow Earth English they said: “In the summer, through her the Unicorn will be freed from the standing stones.” “Her name will be Jessie.”)

            The fact that I fulfilled a prophecy did not make me feel any better. The unicorn rose and calmly walked out of the circle of stones. He assembled druidic mass lowered their hoods and the high priest and priestess approached me. The group was composed of men and women of all ages. Their robes a virtual rainbow of colors, but only their leaders in white.

            “Seasaidh, mistress of the crimson light,” the priestess spoke up. “Please honor us by closing this circle and coming with us to our humble village for rest from your long journey.”

            Not knowing what else to do at this point, I deactivated my lightsabre and raised my arms above my head and said, “May the Force be with you, always.” Corny, cliche, I know, but they echoed and said, ‘so mote it be.’

            During the two-mile torchlight walk to their village I asked the priestess to tell me more of the prophecy . . . ‘just to see if they got it right.’

‘In the spring of the third millennium, the unicorn will pass through the circle of standing stones. When it does the serpent’s teeth will rise from the ground and catch her in their fiery grasp. There she will struggle while the pestilence ravages the land.

In the summer, shall come the mistress of the red light, through her the unicorn will be freed from the standing stones. Her name will be called Jessie.

She will reveal the true path and upon her passing, the pestilence shall pass from this world.’

            I didn’t like the sound of that last part. I asked, “What is the pestilence?”

            “The four queens of course,” the high priestess responded. “And those who serve them.”

            “Indulge me. Who are the four queens?”

            “Acasha of the vampires, Styrba of the Garou, Anastasia of the Ringwriaths, and Sharda the Castrator of the Amazons.”

            The village was partially walled, resembling a medieval fort. The houses were stone with thatched roofs, similar in design to a Celtic shire. A fair sized portion of the rear wall and several houses had been burned down, presumably by the pestilence.

            It wasn’t until I entered the shire that I realized everyone was dressed in Jedi robes, although they were more colorful. I reached out and sensed only a handful that truly had Force potential, but that was to be expected. Then they did expect me to teach them the Jedi Code? Still one part of the prophecy bothered me, ‘upon her passing, the pestilence shall pass from the land.’ Did that mean that they would follow me out of this Shadow, or they would kill me, or that we would meet out mutual ends?

            I am unsure of the time differential between this place and Amber, but I simply don’t have the ability or the time to teach them all the Jedi Code. That night after the shire was asleep a drew a Trump Sketch of the village and Trumped to Mimban. Once there it was a simple matter of sidestepping Shadows to one nearby where the Jedi still upheld the Old Republic. Once there I took a Holocron of their greatest teacher, which would have been by Palpatine anyway. I took my Trump Sketch and returned to the shire.

            In the Shadows of Star Wars, Holocron technology arose tens of thousands of years ago. These devices act as interactive stores of information, most often used to retain the secrets of Force powers for future generation. The creator of a Holocron essentially then transfers a portion of his personality into the object, and this sentient presence then referred to as the gatekeeper of that Holocron. Most Holocrons have special organic crystalline components. When arranged properly there crystals form a latticework of energy that can both absorb and later reproduce light and sound wave information.

            I activated the Holocron and the image of a beautiful, auburn haired, green-eyed woman appeared. She wore a dress of blue silk and a bodice of black leather. She wore a black leather vambrace on each arm, and her lightsabre was clipped to her belt of gold chain. It said, “Greetings, Jedi. I am Seasaidh Phelan, gatekeeper of the Jedi Holocron. It is both my duty and my honor to instruct you in the ways of the Jedi, and to present to you the accounts of those brave Jedi Knights who have gone before you.”

            “Mistress Seasaidh, I am Jessica Brandier, Jedi Knight to the throne of Amber. I have brought you here to assist me with the instruction of a large number of students. I also need you to continue after I have departed this realm,” I responded.

            “Mistress Jessica, I sense something odd about you. You are unlike any Jedi I have known.”

            “Because I am not unlike any you have known, but that is unimportant at this time. I should tell you something of these people before I introduce you to them. Their level of technology is primitive and their government is feudal. Their language is Gaelic and Thari, which must be learned by you.”

            “I understand. Please share this knowledge with me,” the Holocron said. Through the Force, with a little help from the Kaiburr Crystal, I related to the Holocron my knowledge and experiences. As I did I resolved to build one of my own in time to keep a record of my personality and experiences for future generations, and my daughter Amanda. How old was she now? Nineteen, twenty? She has the right to know her true heritage, doesn’t she?

            “Yes she does, Mistress Jessica,” answered the image of Seasaidh.

            “How much do you...can you read my thoughts?” I asked.

            “Only what you allow while we are in close contact,” she replied. “A part of you exists within the matrix of this cube now and always will.”

            A howling in the distance . . . the wind? No it was too human sounding. The Garou led by Styrba then? Were the other three also nearby? Should I rouse the shire or leave them to their fate? I had not come . . . I am a Jedi. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack. We wait.

            A tall dark haired woman stood in the doorway of my hut. She wore a surprisingly modern style dress, all black. Her eyes glowed red and the dim light flickered of her long canines. Her features were distinguished almost as if she were a child of Oberon. “I knew you would come,” she said. “Your blood will be my passage back to the real world and my revenge.”

            “Look, lady,” I responded activating my Jedi weapon. “I don’t know who you are. Or what you’re wanting revenge for, but you’ll wind up Bantha fodder if you continue this course of action.”

            “I am Acasha, Queen of the Vampires,” she laughed. “I am also the daughter of Oberon and Brietta. I became a vampire at the hands of Tullia the Banshee.”

            A demon and the daughter of Oberon? I was no match for her in a straight battle of attributes. She would be able to outmaneuver me at every turn. The Force was my only hope. I closed my eyes so not to meet her gaze. I cleared my mind and focused on the Force in preparation for a physical or mental attack.

            Trump contact . . . it was Owen. Dare I divert my attention . . . she was coming . . . I had no choice. As his image appeared before me I could only cry out, “Help!” The demon daughter of Oberon was upon me. Her fangs sank deep into my neck, it took all my concentration to maintain contact. Owen jumped through, sword in hand. One swift stroke and she was without an arm, but Acasha released me. She took up her arm and vanished. Her voice echoed, “You won’t be so lucky next time.”

            “She’s right, Owen,” I said. “I’ve recently restored the Kaiburr Crystal. Walked it with Ygg. With my blood, even the small amount she’s taken she can . . . Owen, that vampire is Oberon’s daughter!”

            “Don’t tell me . . . she wants to destroy Amber, right?” Owen said jokingly.

            “Dammit this is serious!”

            “Little sister, you can’t stay out of trouble can you?”

            “I wish you would open your mind to the Force once in a while,” I said. “Most times I’m led to these things. I don’t go looking for them.”

            “Alright, lighten up,” Owen said. “You restored the Crystal? How?”

            “Ygg and I . . . ” I began. Then thought to myself, ‘dammit . . . he tricked me. The tree has control over it now. Yggdrasil helped me heal the Kaiburr Crystal fragment to keep me in check. Quite clever actually, and probably the best thing that could’ve been done. Now he truly is a balance of the powers.’

            I related my findings to my brother. As I did I realized it was actually the difference in timeflow between our two Shadows that made him my elder. I had been removed from Dierdre’s womb first, but remained ‘unborn’ for years afterward.

            It was still dark outside. It became obvious to me that nights in this Shadow were long ones. Sounds of screaming women and children, mixed with the sounds of battle rose up around us. Weapons in hand, Owen and I ran out into the darkness that engulfed the shire.

            Werewolves, female warriors, wraiths, and vampires were everywhere. The villagers defended themselves with swords, clubs, axes and staves. Owen’s silver bladed dragonhead katana teleported to his hand and he entered the fray. I reached out with the Force to the sensitive residents of the shire giving them advice on dealing with the non-corporeal wraiths, then drew my lightsabre and hacked down a werewolf.

            The battle raged for what seemed like hours. A Trump call, it was Michael, but he as calling Owen, not me. He held the ‘life bond’ Trump card I made years ago. I felt Valian, Michael and Owen in the open contact. Titan, Belle and Julia were also depicted on the card but they were either unable or unwilling to make contact, although I knew they were all alive and well.

            “Owen,” Michael asked. “Where are you? The Queen has asked us to help Jessica. Are you available?”

            “Come through! We’re in the midst of a major battle!” Both Owen and I shouted. Michael, Valian, and Thangor stepped through the rainbow gate. I neglected to mention Thangor before, but he looks like a Tran of Alan Dean Foster’s Icerigger. Tran are two-meter tall mammalian entities. Although they are very broad and well muscled, they are not strong, due to their light hollow bones. Their long arms end in four-fingered hands. The Tran’s three-toed feet have long curving claws that act as skates but that also can be retracted upward with considerable effort, to allow it to walk on land. A small single claw on the Tran’s heel acts as a brake. The Tran move over the icy surface of their planet by wind-surfing. Broad membranous wings stretch from their hips to their arms, spreading as the arms are lifted to catch the wind. With their slitted eyes, triangular ears, and short, thick fur, the Tran are somewhat feline in appearance. They are omnivorous beings, with both flat and pointed teeth.

            How long the battle raged I’m unsure. There were bodies piled two feet high in Owen’s wake. Michael’s signature electrified lava laid waste to many more . . . the first signs of daybreak . . .

            I was in a “crow’s cage.” My vambrace, lightsabre, sandals, and cloak were gone. Acasha was invoking a spell holding gold circlets like the ones from my dream. In a flash she grabbed my right foot and pulled it through the bars of the cage. She placed one of the circlets around my ankle; the other on my upper right arm. From that point everything is a blur, dream or hallucination, reality or fantasy?

            Wraiths and Vampires swarmed around me, draining me from every possible location. Werewolves lapping the blood from the open wounds left by the vampires.

            A tremor in the Force? Or is it my life slipping away? I’m falling . . . no flying . . . the Stonehenge . . . Michael? The battle still raging or a new fight? Nothing . . . hybernation or suspension?

            Michael freed me from the crow’s cage. How long was I out? Still groggy, I answer an inquiry, “Yes, I’m alright. Drained, but alive.”

            We returned to Amber by Trump . . . I think. We made our report to Queen Vialle, just as King Random burst through the door. Out on the Royal balcony, Michael and I, with the help of Ygg, attempted to make Trump contact with my lightsabre. We found it dangling from Acasha’s belt out in Shadow. I pulled it from her, returning it to me. Michael conjured a replacement vambrace which I snapped on my right forearm and clipped my weapon to it.

            The ‘Queens of Evil’ had dispersed, taking separate paths through Shadow to Amber, building their armies along the way. Acasha had taken enough of my blood to know the way to Amber. Where they’ll meet or when none of us knew.

            I excused myself from the royal chambers and went downstairs to my apartment. I entered my bathroom and removed my vambrace and my living silk dress. As I stepped into the shower, I noticed an indentation around my right ankle. I reached to rub it and saw a similar indentation around my right arm. The two seemed to be trying to draw together like magnets. The circlets Acasha had put on me were still there! The had been absorbed into my body, or rendered invisible, and perhaps being used as a tracking device. I focused on the Trump image of Michael . . . no contact . . . not even cold. I tried Ygg . . . nothing . . . not even through the Force. Whatever these things were the also blocked my powers.

            I walked over to my desk an took out my Trump cards and shuffled out Michael’s card. With his card in hand I made contact with him. I pulled him through before I realized I was still naked (good thing I resisted the urge to go running through the Castle). I couldn’t help but to notice the growing bulge in his tight blue and silver breeches. When I told nim what I had discovered, he examined the areas. He began mentally scanning his spellbook for a solution.

            Since I don’t truly understand sorcery, I can’t really tell you what he did, but his spell was successful in bringing the rings back to the surface and removing them. What I can tell you is the pains of childbirth are easier than the removal of those rings.

            Once I recovered from that shock, I decided as a ‘thank you’ for this and as an apology for all things I had done in the ‘recent’ past, to give him a blow-job, but first I caressed his penis with my feet. Then I rubbed it between my breasts. Ok, I’m a pervert, so what, it’s been a long time for me, too. Besides, in case you haven’t noticed I seem to turn into a nymphomaniac in time of crisis. Despite his desires to reciprocate I sent him away, somewhat happier than when he’d entered, but also a bit disappointed. As he left he said he was going to study the circlets and hopefully find a way to use them against the Queens of Evil.

            “Good luck,” I sad closing the door behind him. I walked back to my bathroom. I needed a shower now more than ever.

            I washed my living silk dress and hung it over the balcony to dry. I lay naked on a tatami basking in the Amber sun. I sipped a glass of Bayle’s Best an smoked my last cigarette, while I lay there. I began thinking of the Holocron I had decided to make for Amanda. I began to wonder what happened to Michaela . . . I drifted off to sleep.

            When I awoke it was sunset. I donned my dress, rolled up my tatami, and walked back inside my apartment. I put the tatami in my closet an picked out a pair of sandals. The pair I had worn in my infamous first photo-shoot for Playboy on Shadow Earth, under the name Elisa Bridges. The sole was gold, with a 3" silver spike heel. A jewel studded strap connected just in front of the heel and wrapped just below my ankle across the upper part of my foot. A similar strap crossed midway over my toes just above the first joint.

            I went to my dressing table and took out a pair of diamond stud earrings and a ruby ring. I also put on a gold Celtic cross pendant. I finally took a gold chain bracelet and put it on my left wrist. I looked at myself in the full length mirror and shape-shifted my dress into something semiformal. I clipped my vambrace to my right arm, brushed my hair, and put on a black Jedi-style robe from my closet and proceeded to the family’s favorite dining room.

            All eyes turned my direction as I entered the room. Random, Vialle, Benedict, Corwin, Fiona, Gerard, Michael, Valian, Thangor, Owen, and even my parents, Brand and Dierdre were seated at the table. Thank the Force, Brand is still somewhat in control of himself since my companions and I helped him recover from his bipolar disorder. Although no one really trusted him, yet. I took a seat across from Owen, with Dierdre on my right and Brand to my left. The Jedi are the guardians of peace and justice, it seemed appropriate, besides it was an empty seat.

            Over dinner, we discussed the present situation. Valian and the others described the two encounters with the ‘Queens of Evil’ and their armies. Valian made it a point to mention Sharda the Castrator of Hendrake, Queen of the Amazons, was dead. I’ve a feeling he sexually used her and then shape-shifted into something to devour her body.

            Benedict and Owen seemed confident their ground forces would pose only a minor threat to Amber, but the supernatural forces might pose a problem. Brand and Fiona volunteered to study the materials in the library to find possible solutions to that problem. It still seems strange when you know Amber’s history that after two-thousand years of fighting amongst themselves, seeing the elders working together.

            Only Corwin seemed to remember Acasha’s previous days in Amber before her demise. From his descriptions of her then, Brand’s coup was tame. It was no wonder Oberon banished her from Amber.

            After dinner, I talked with Brand and Dierdre in the sitting room about my life and my daughters (their grandchildren), or as much as I knew about them. Brand retired to his apartment afterward, with the comment, “I truly regret the things I did to you, Jessica. And I regret that I wasn’t there to be the father you deserved.”

            I felt through the Force that he meant every word. I smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. I believe he had a tear in his eye as he left, but of course he’ll never admit it. Dierdre retired soon after. I gave her a hug and walked with her. I left her at the door of her apartment and proceeded to my own.

            I sat at my desk an took out a piece of paper and a pencil and made a Trump Sketch of Master Skywalker. I stared into it until it grew cold, then came his response, “Hallo, Jessica.”

            “Hallo, Luke. How’s Mara?” I asked.

            “Better. What can I do for you?”

            “I need to build a Holocron. I can tell you where to find the crystals I need and where Palpatine hid the details of that technology, but I need you to collect them for me.”

            “Sure. I could use that information myself, but how do I get in touch with you?” he asked. I extended a Trump of myself and made sure he understood its use, then I broke contact.

            My late nap had left me wide awake and restless. I went down to the stables, saddled Goldenrod, and took a late night ride in Arden. I rode out the back way down the far side of Kolvir. I took a less-traveled trail into the heart of the forest. The moon was rising, casting an eerie light through the trees.

            I was deep into the forest when I realized I was being stalked. It was a minimal tiger, fully grown, but half normal size an eighth of the weight. I had read about minimals, a contraction of ‘miniature animals’--but had never encountered one. What this cat didn’t know was it was being hunted as well by a pack of wolves or wild dogs. Unfortunately, if the canines caught the tiger, they would likely catch me as well.

            I dismounted an spoke soothing words to Goldenrod, to make him stay put. The minimal tiger leaped out of a nearby bush. I threw up a Force Shield around it to trap it, as the wolves attacked simultaneously. I used Force Lights to illuminate the area . . . the wolves scattered. I remounted and rode back toward City Amber, once well away, I dropped the Force Shield and released the miniature tiger.

            I entered the city through the main gate off Harbor Road. I continued up Carter Street, as its known it the city, to Plaza West. I turned left on Plaza West toward the most notorious marketplace in Amber, The Plaza of Timhaidh Soighne (Dark Delights).

            By day the plaza is an exotic market, the largest in the city. At night, however, it undergoes a startling transformation. In the moonlight, it’s a quiet an whispery place. Diffused, muted red light illuminates the faces of patrons who are frequently veiled or otherwise hidden. Nobody runs; the clientele shuffles or scuttles from place to place. The wares sold at night are much more exotic and dangerous than those available during the day. Any form of drink or drug can be purchased here, from all over Shadow. Artifacts of strange gods can be found, many of which are forbidden within the city. No matter how strange a client’s tastes in entertainment, there is always someone in the Plaza of Timhaidh Soighne who will accommodate them, for a fee.

            Anyone venturing here at night has a high chance of being accosted by thieves or pickpockets, for the city guards generally give the plaza a wide berth. Because of the many and varied intoxicants available here, a wide range of strange behavior is tolerated and is no cause for alarm.

            The plaza is a common meeting ground for Shadow wizards of Amber. These small, huddled groups of black-robed power are avoided by other visitors to the plaza. Magical items, though rare in Amber, are perhaps more common in the Plaza of Timhaidh Soighne than anywhere else.

            When I reached the Fountain of Dark Abundance, which marks the plaza’s entrance, I pulled up the hood of my robe. Legend says the fountain is cursed by a wizard that was pushed into it by the surge of a crowd. Some say those who drink the purple-black water fall ill and die. Others claim to see weird visions in its surface. I say its just an ugly fountain decorated with water spouts carved like demons and men in throes of wild emotion.

            While I’m noting landmarks, located at the East end of Plaza Timhaidh Soighne, the Shrine of the Black Virgin stands directly opposite the Dark Fountain. The Shrine is a life-sized statue of a woman with her arms outstretched. The statue is carved from black stone. It sits on a pedestal in the center of the street (Plaza East). During the day, the statue seems to become a peaceful gesture. At night, when the shadows fall upon the statue, she appears as a naked woman, inviting a man to share unthinkable pleasures.

            I approached the site of the Bazaar of the Bizarre, a stall that has been vacant for sometime. The shop was open for one day, long ago. No shop has remained on the spot for more than a few days, since its hasty departure. Merchants who persist here usually go insane, collecting bits of trash and waste, trying to sell them for the price of a king’s ransom. That was when Master Skywalker contacted me via Trump.

            “Here’s the items you wanted. I took the liberty of copying the instructions for myself,” he said.

            “Thanks, Luke,” I responded taking the backpack full of Holocron materials.

            “Want your card back?”

            “No you keep it. You may need it someday.”

            “Thanks, Jessica. May the Force be with you.”

            “And you, Luke,” I replied and broke contact. Turning back to the various shops and patrons of this dark market. I spied a very attractive male dancer. As he made his way round the plaza he stopped before me and took my hand. He kissed it then danced away. He disappeared into the crowd.

            In my hand he’d slipped a note, written in a familiar hand . . . mine! It read:

Tell dearest Michael I’m alive and well. I’ll be coming for him and you, Brandier. I’m coming with some surprise guests. Don’t worry you don’t have to leave the gates open. We’ll make our own.

J. Damariis

Empress of the Sith

            I crumpled the paper in my hand and Trumped back to the Castle. I know the news couldn’t wait, so I Trumped Michael. Of course he was with a girl, which he tried to hide. Cute little red head . . . nice to know he hadn’t forgotten me, haha. Passing him the note I said, “Sorry to disturb you, but I thought you’d want to see this immediately.”

            After he read it he handed it back and said, “Meet me in the dining room in twenty minutes.”

            While waiting in the second floor dining room, waiting for Michael, I met Sevyn. He claimed to be the son of Eric and Delia. The only thing that could be known for sure at this point was he was of both Amber and Chaos born. With our heightened senses Amberites and Chaosites can ‘smell’ each other. Sevyn had also mastered both the Logrus and Pattern.

            Michael walked in and after a brief discussion affirmed Sevyn’s heritage. Owen and Thangor arrived soon afterward. Owen in his usual manner said, “Ok, the staff’s all here. Who called this meeting?”

            “Our estranged ‘sister’ is still alive,” I said in answer. “She sent me this message. From the sounds of it she’s joined the Queens.”

            Sevyn studied the note for a moment, then summoned his Logrus sight. Michael called Fiona, who Trumped in with Brand from the library. Brand called upon the power of the Abyss to see into Sevyn’s vision. Their news was disturbing. Not only was my ‘clone’ leading an army of Stormtroopers with weapons powered by Trump, but she was the Queens’ new leader for the Amazon horde and Michaela was with her. Jessiica had also mastered the powers of the Abyss, according to Brand.

            Fiona, Michael and Brand began working on a spell to trap Jessiica in a web which would neutralize her control of the Abyss and the Force. A spell which Brand and I were both uncomfortable with in concept.

            We all agreed the Queens would enter the Golden Circle through T’Amber, so it was there we headed, but first a detour home aboard the last of Prath’s Super Star Destroyers, which had been left in high orbit of Amber. Brand opened an Abyss gate to take us to my Shadow. We arrived at the Kuat Drive Yards an had repairs made by its creators. I also put forth a call for any former Imperial Troops with Star Destroyer experience seeking legitimate employment. Of course it was highly probable that we’d have a full crew and all repairs completed within hours.

            With all our preparations in order, we again used Brand’s Abyss gate taking our fully armed and operational SSD to T’Amber. Brand gated Owen’s army the moment we arrived. We had fifteen minutes to warn Queen Jesyca before the hordes came through.

            We dropped four of the garrison units on top of their forces. We killed thousands and still they came. Owen, Thangor, and the forces of T’Amber joined by Owen’s army and the Imperial troops we brought with us engaged the Queen of Evil’s armies head on. Michael, Fiona, and Brand engaged in sorcery from atop the castle. I commanded the SSD’s orbital assault.

            Michael’s spell had kept Jessiica and her troops out of T’Amber, but the hordes that were already here were enough. Hundreds of thousands it seemed died. The war raged for what must have been days. Finally it was over. Jessiica had escaped our grasp. At least two of the Queens had escaped. We also learned that Jonathan and Mary were behind the assault.

            Our theory on Mary, she is a Pattern Ghost made real by a transfusion from Jonathan. I believe she is just as real and dangerous as the original, possibly even infused with blood of the original.

            Michael had set access restrictions to T’Amber, forcing all werewolves, vampires, and wraiths to enter through a gate which would destroy or at least severely damage them upon entry. I left the Super Star Destroyer and all its troops under the command of Queen Jesyca and Trumped back to Amber.

            I went down to the garden, to Yggdrasil. Together we used the Force, the Crystal, and Ygg’s own power to search Shadow for the surviving Queens of Evil. Acasha was dead. Anastasia and Styrba still lived, as did Jessiica, Jonathan, Mary, and Michaela. Michaela has made herself padawan to Jessiica of her own free will. Somehow Michaela relates to Jessiica more as a mother than I. Jessiica bore her cybernetic hand as a trophy, a reminder, or just to torment me without the synth-flesh covering that made it look normal.

            “Yggdrasil, my old friend, help me build a Holocron for Amanda that will not only tell her, but show her why I left her behind.” I pleaded. “Then help me send it to her, so that maybe she will turn out better than her sister, and hopefully understand and forgive me.”

            Three days in meditation and construction of the Holocron cube. My life was recorded in a way never done before in the history of the Jedi. Not only my interactive image, but a visual documentary of the events that led up to its creation. Ygg promised me to transport it to her. I thanked him and said I didn’t even want to know how. I only hoped her adopted mother would understand. How many years had passed for them? Four years? Five? She was thirteen when I last saw her in that odd dream . . . would she be seventeen or eighteen now? I thanked Ygg again and walked back to the Castle.

Amber Time: 2421.06 ogan

            Valian, has the official title was Protector of City Amber, got the wanderlust and suggested Michael and I join him on a ride to explore the unknown regions of Amber.

            We all hoped to avoid Uncle Julian’s patrols, his storm hounds and himself. Valian was the son of Corwin (not Julian as we all now knew) and Julian all but hated Corwin. Since Kyle, Julian’s son (still missing), having close friends with Valian and Owen, Uncle Julian hated Valian all the more. Julian tolerated Michael because of Eric, and I think he, almost, loved me because of my connection to the life of the Forest. Julian is a hard man to predict or understand.

            With these thoughts in mind I wonder how far into our exploration we actually made before subconsciously shifted Shadow. We stopped for quick lunch, courtesy of Michael’s magic, and rode on a couple more hours. As it started getting dark, we decided to make camp.

            Michael dismounted his roan and a tremor began. A fissure opened up in he fell in. Valian assumed his Chaos form and dove after him. The fissure closed behind them. I shuffled out Michael’s Trump...he was alive, but unresponsive. I tried Valian’s, I made contact.

            They were in an underground river or lake. Michael was being carried away by some large creature. I tucked the Trump carefully beneath my bodice maintaining mental contact with Valian through physical contact with the card. I took the reins of their horses and rode to find a cavern or well or another entrance to the underground waterway.

            To keep from wearing the horses out, I switched between them until finally, I came across a well, akin to those found on Mimban. I secured horses and began the slow descent into the dark depths. As with the wells of Mimban, halfway down was a ledge and tunnel to, but Michael and Valian were rapidly approaching far below. I took off my cloak and boots then telekinetically lowered a rope from one of the horses secured my items to it and sent them back up in suspended them across a saddle Ansteorra.

            I then dove into the dark depths of the pit into the deep dark waters below. when I the water I used the Force to control my breathing and adapt my eyes to see in the depths. My dress became the body suit akin to a scuba suit.

            Valian raced passed me and not far ahead him was a large creature resembling the legendary Loch Ness monster of Shadow Earth. Michael was unconscious inside the creature.

            Valian allowed himself be swallowed by the creature to get Michael out. I reeled with the creature’s pain as Valian toward his way out from the inside.

            The blood attracted several shark like creatures. I dispatched a couple of my lightsabre and use the Force to draw the attention of the others toward their injured comrades.

            The creature meanwhile had swallowed Valian and Michael again. Through the Trump I pleaded with Valian to use his shape shifting to heal the creature.

            I used the Force to communicate with the creature that we would heal it if it would not bring us harm. With a bit of help, I convinced it we were not food and asked her to lead us at his watery grave.

            She regurgitated Michael and Valian and began to swim away, almost too fast for us to keep up. Finally she broke the surface of the water and we followed. I gasped at the air then helped Valian get Michael to the shore of the cave floor.

            The creature had a few young waiting for her. While I attended Michael, Valian went to find her food.

            The chamber above open into another cave or well and thanks to the power of the Pattern our horses waited above. When Valian returned, he flew us up to the horses where we continued our venture.

Amber Time: 2421.23 d’L djaya ~////

            Things have been relatively quiet here in Amber. A couple of months ago, though, I felt a disturbance in the Force. A disturbance that seemed to ripple through Shadow, even through the Pattern itself. Somewhere among the many Shadows of Amber the Elders died. The Castle itself was gone. It was a vision of the future, but the future of my Amber or another?

            While on the subject of Amber’s Shadows, I would like to say with sadness, the queen of T’Amber, her general, and chief advisor perished from injuries received in the battle against the Queens of Evil. Namely Jesyca, Owan, and Mikael. Valon is missing and presumed dead. Bell now acts as regent, being the only blood relative of Jesyca alive. I have also heard my cousin and friend, Michael, has taken residence there.

Amber Time: 2421.23 d’L djaya ~////

            Owen conspired with Michael to explore the world of Amber without shifting Shadow. Michael put a spell upon Owen, Valian and Kyle [recently returned to Amber] to prohibit them from using consciously or unconsciously the Pattern to shift Shadow. I refused such action but agreed to follow.

            At the edge of the forest is a desert plain. A few miles inland was a small dilapidated town. We helped restore the town and provid it with a means of self-sufficiency.

            Valian killed a “gunslinger” and took his guns. These weapons appeared to be .44 caliber revolvers, but they possess a curse. Any creature (monster) within thirty miles of the owner will be drawn to him whenever the guns are pulled. They will fire up to 16 rounds a bizarre tune [theme to The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly] plays once the guns are drawn. Then they must be manually reloaded or holstered. If they are pulled again the whole process begins again doubling the radius of a summoning spell (each time). [I hope this explanation makes sense, magic is out of my league.]

            Michael, Kyle and I left behind the restored town for the ‘baronial’ castle and the city a few miles east. There introduced ourselves to Baron Valast and told him of the other town. Were dismissed from court and are now walking the streets.

            Things have happened so fast lately that I had forgotten many details. Owen caught up with us and we repaired an ancient looking rail car system. Owen called it a train. We’ve run into a powerful sorcerer that nearly trapped us in “Hell.” I feel as though we’re been manipulated, drawing toward some ultimate goal.

            Valian and Kyle returned home. Michael, Owen and I continued riding the rail. Along the way we met a winged Unicorn. Her name Peggy Sue. I should note she doesn’t actually have a worn, but I see it in her aura for the Force. She is the daughter of the Unicorn, Oberon’s half-sister. She changed into a human female with golden skin and hair matching the coloration of the creature she had been.

            The train took us to way station populated by a dozen humans and hordes of Ratkin (wererats). Owen and I battle the rodents in the town while Michael filled their caverns with his electrified lava.

            The people of the way station tell us of the town that used to be located on a spur of the tracks, but the rails were gone. We took our horses to investigate. There in the town we learned of the legendary “Dark Tower” and a place called Gilead. We resupply ourselves and Trumped back to train. One thing I might mention the further east we go the more advanced the culture.

            Upon approach to Topeka, the end of the line, we saw a railway end about a mile from a bridge spanning a river. The bridge serve two purposes judging from its construction, as a road for wagons, people, horses, etc. and a railroad trestle. A large blue train, leaving the city, was derailed into the river. From the looks of it, the train derailed on purpose, sometime ago.

            Michael sketched Trump of our train’s “food car” while Owen and I packed our horses with what we could carry.

            The city of Topeka had a dark, cold, almost evil feel to it. If there was life it was mutated by some magically enhanced biological weapon. Only a single red rose seemed unaltered. It grew from a patch of ground near a fountain in the center of town.

            Michael’s magic and my Farsee ability revealed a young wizard resembling Dworkin defending the rose from a variety of foes. There was also a flash of a crystal or obsidian tower surrounded by field of roses. Or was a tower perched on the edge of nothing.

            There was a key in the tower which we knew we need understand. We returned to Amber to seek Dworkin’s counsel. The crazy old man dismissed us saying it was nothing worry about.

Amber Time: 2421.23 d’L djaya ~////

            My brother, Owen, and his companion, Thangor, have gone off into Shadow to fight one campaign or another. Valian has gone to Chaos to visit with his mother, Dara.

            I am preparing for a quest of my own. I am going to hunt Jessiica down. To paraphrase the late Emperor Palpatine, ‘If she will not be turned, then she will be destroyed!’ Or I’ll die in the attempt. I know many of my companions would advise me against this venture, but its something I have to do. One way or another, one of us, perhaps both will die. May the Force forgive me, but I know I must call upon the Dark Side to do this. I only hope that if I succeed I don’t take her place as an enemy of Amber.

            I have killed more Stormtroopers in the last few days than Palpatine had in his entire army, or so it seems. I have trailed Jessiica through Shadow for sometime now, and she’s always just out of reach. I’ve seen the rise and fall of the Roman Empire under her mechanical thumb. I have battled alongside the Gods of Egypt, the Norse, Greece, and the Celts. I have fought the Sith Empire, the Cult of Exar Kun, and the Dark Empire. All of this seemed to me to occur within weeks or perhaps months, but never thought it was close to 72 hours.

            The forest was dark. Under a thick canopy with no moon, and few stars I could barely see a meter in front of me. Using the Force to enhance my vision helped, but only a little. The forest was quiet. I could sense the fear of the creatures around me. I could sense the Stormtroopers stalking the woods. This time they were hunting me. I felt a tingle, almost forgotten, a Trump call. I dare not answer until they pass me by.

            I could sense Michael’s urgency via the Trump, but even if I went to him I would be shot before I made it through. Hours passed, they began to move away, not having seen me, but they were searching for a Jedi, not a Dryad. As a devotee of Ygg and as such had the ability to assume the form of a tree. Were it not for the danger of alerting the hundreds making their way through the trees, I could have taken out at least a dozen Stormtroopers, as they passed me.

            The Trump contact again, this time he was forcing it. I tried to block him, but his psyche is stronger than mine. Resistance was futile, finally I whispered, “What? I’m a little busy right now.”

            “Jessica, Amber has fallen and Merlin is dead,” Michael informed me.

            “When? How?” I asked. The foresight I had been given had come true. “Pull me through.”

            The next thing I remember, a long Hellride to the ends of the earth. A mountain, a castle, a lighthouse – all under siege – all representing the tower. I had a feeling we’d find more than the tower, perhaps the end of Shadow, or creation, and the beginning.

            It wasn’t exactly the lighthouse at Cabra, but its blue light stopped rotating after the storm began to dissipate. Perhaps it was a result of lightning strike, though unlikely, the beam of light pointed toward the sea. The direction of the ‘beam’ Michael said he was following. A short stair descended into the depths, reminiscent of Rebma’s stair, Faiella-bionin.

            As we began our descent, we noticed Owen and departed our company. Kyle Trumped to Michael and took the lead. Michael followed. Then came Peggy Sue, the human form of the gold winged unicorn, and I brought up the rear.

            The waters grew colder and darker. The stair barely visible beneath our feet. How long had we been on the stair... hours? Days?

                                    ‘Stretch out your feelings...things you will see...other places.’

                                                – Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and Master Yoda

            The waters must be playing tricks on me, or I had a waking vision, because I suddenly had a vision of Michael, Owen, Kyle, Peggy Sue, Valian, and myself in a dungeon cell or medieval laboratory, maybe a torture chamber. I called upon the Force to refocus my attention on the task at hand.

            We came to large door. Peggy reverted to her equine form and kicked it with her hind legs. Kyle struck it with Moljolner. Both of them and no effect on the door. Peggy Sue, now human again, shaped her arm into the crack and removed the bar.

            We entered the passage beyond the door. A brief tingle in the Force, a warning of danger. From above us, a falcon-headed, winged woman swooped to attack. Peggy Sue called out to her as if she knew her. Michael and I together touched her mind. When we had control, I let go. She, the Falconess, was under the influence of a compelling spell or mental domination, if you will. She had been ordered to kill anyone that came through the door. Once Michael broke the spell the Falconess remember her acquaintance with Peggy Sue.

            A rumble, a quake, the door was sealed behind us. The stair collapsed. We were trapped within this chamber. We searched until we found and upward spiraling stair. Michael teleported himself outside and swam to the surface to learn the lighthouse had been destroyed. He also informed us were in a dark tower below the water.

            As we ascended the stair, we sought periodic flash of red light. As we drew closer, we couldn’t escape the feeling were being watched. Kyle’s danger sense told him a large mechanical whale-like creature was plunging toward the tower.

                        ‘There’s always a bigger fish.’– Master Qui-Gon Jinn

            “There is a giant squid lying in wait just short of the tower,” said Michael.

            The light at the top of the stair was a giant red crystal, not unlike The Jewel of Judgment. Michael stepped into the reflector and watched the crystal as he went around. There was a presence in the crystal...

                        ‘You must unlearn what you have learned.’ – Master Yoda

            Redness and slow motion. Like sinking into an ocean of viscosity. Very slowly at first. Drifting and darkening, all the pretty lights so far, far ahead. Faintly, my velocity increased. Flakes of light, distant, intermittent...a three-dimensional variation of the Pattern itself. I was inside the crystal...or had been before. There was another presence...Brand! My uncle and my father...holding the Jewel of Judgment.

            Michael Trumped Oberon and he sent us all to the Primal Pattern. Brand was attacking. He rode upon an enormous black serpent with one red eye. Owen, Peggy Sue, and the Falconess attacked Brand and the serpent.

            Brand appeared in the center of the Pattern. Michael struck him with a spell. Brand’s blood flowed onto the Pattern...the lines faded where it touched. Michael stanched the flow. Oberon took the Jewel of Judgment and began to walk the Pattern.

            “Oberon, no!” I cried. I knew somehow he would die, as if this had happened before.

            The dungeon again...Amber is in danger...we must get back...I must concentrate...I must use the Force to teleport us all...

                        ‘You must feel the Force around you.’ – Master Yoda

Amber time: 2193.31 d’L ogan ~//

            The Castle and the city lay in ruins. My companions and I stirred atop Kolvir beside the steps to Tir Na-Nog’th. Amber had fallen. I was too late to save her. I sat on the steps waiting for moonrise to ascend to Tir Na-Nog’th. I wanted to walk the Pattern there and restore my true memories as Corwin had years ago. My head was full of visions and memories swirling in mixing together, some real, some implanted. I had to the truth.

            Owen spied a ship come into the harbor. Its markings match those of the Golden Circle Corsair, a pirate. The flag over the mast a crimson banner bearing a white skull and crossbones, The Scarlet Witch. Her captain was reported to be an Amberite working for Chaos against Amber, a ruthless woman the name of Leslie MacEwen.

            The Falconess and Peggy Sue flew down to observe the city in search of survivors. Kyle went with them. I teleported Owen and myself to the ship to fend off the Pirates. Michael had pulled our weapons out of Shadow via Trump sketches and magic. Then he began scry with the Trumps to learn the fate of our family.

            Over 200 buccaneers fell before our blades; 50 or so to mine alone. A dagger buzzed Owen’s ear, and knicked him as it struck the mast behind him. There on the poop deck stood The Scarlet Witch herself, Leslie MacEwen. “Come, child,” she taunted, “let’s see how good you are.”

            “Carragh ceangal,” echoed Michael’s voice. The Scarlet Witch never had a chance to prove she was as good or better than Owen, because at that moment she was ‘stone bound.’ She became a living statue, which Owen promptly beheaded.

            Michael told us of the fate of the elders as we walked up “Death Alley” toward the remains of City Amber. Benedict died facing incredible odds; Julian defending Arden; Gerard toppled the south wall the castle thereby blocking the stair to the Pattern. To make the list short Bleys, Corwin, Fiona, Random, and Vialle survived; whereabouts unknown. “There’s indication of four more for which my deck has no cards,” he concluded.

            The moon began to rise. I teleported to the steps of Tir Na-Nog’th and began the ascent. I had to take the Pattern to restore memories their true order, or I hoped it would. Michael met me halfway up.

            “Owen has gone to Queen Vialle, to help protect her and her children. The rest of us were trying to rally survivors.” He asked, “Why go up there? The images will be distorted.”

            “I know, but I have to reorient myself through the Pattern,” I replied. “The balance is gone.”

                        ‘Mind what you have learned, save you it can.’ – Master Yoda

            At the top, we saw shadows of the past and present mingling together. A tear rolled down my cheek, as I gazed upon what was. I hurried to the castle and into the Pattern room from there. For the first time the sight of the Pattern frightened me. What would I find? The truth or another lie?

                        ‘Anger, fear, aggression...the Dark Side are they.’ – Master Yoda

            I straightened my dress, tightened my sandals thongs, adjusted my vambrace assuring myself my Jedi weapon was still there, then took a deep breath and let it back out. I set my foot upon the Pattern.

            At the First Veil, I learned Owen, Kyle, Michael, Jonathan, Mary, Darvin and I had grown up together in Amber. The years Corwin spent on Shadow Earth, we spent in our own private Shadows. Michael like the rest of us was lost in shadow during the Patternfall years, cut off by a sorcerer in a shadow near Chaos. Valian was not yet born, and even after was sent off in secret by Dara. Kyle wandered shadow in search of the rest of us, as did Jonathan, Mary and Darvin, though for different reasons. That left us all lost and forgotten during the Patternfall War. Michael was the first to return, bringing Valian with him after Merlin was crowned king of Chaos. After the PatternFall War, the subsequent events occurred just as I remember them. I also learned Valian had grown up in Amber after the PatternFall War unaware of his dual heritage until Michael found him.

            At the Second Veil, Owen, Michael, Kyle, Peggy Sue, and Valian were on the front lines near the Abyss and the Courts of Chaos. I was captured by Jessiica and her stormtroopers to the edge of the forest while answering Michael’s Trump call. She had taken into the dungeons where I was imprisoned with everyone else. Coral had betrayed us. The power of the Jewel of Judgment had driven her mad. That same power had kept us prisoner in the dungeons of Kashfa for a long time. There are other grandchildren of Oberon. Some of the elders yet survive.

            One, two...three, I pushed through the Final Veil and stood at the center of the Pattern.

‘Use your aggressive feelings...strike me down with all your hatred

                                    and your journey toward the Dark side will be complete.’

                                                 – Emperor Palpatine, a.k.a. Darth Sideous 

            I could go anywhere. I could have myself sent to her side and assassinate the traitor, Coral. I have felt that power before and it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I had the Pattern send me to Owen and Queen Vialle.

            I dropped to one knee before Queen Vialle, head bowed, and recited, “I here swear fealty and do homage to the Crown of Amber; to ever be a good Jedi Knight and true, reverent and generous, shield of the weak, obedient to my liege-lady, foremost in battle, courteous at all times, champion of the right and good. Thus swear I, Jessica Brandier Barimen.”

            To this she replied, “This to myself hear and shall never forget nor fail to reward that which is given fealty with love, service with honor, and oath breading with vengeance.” She then placed her hand upon my shoulder and bade me stand.

Amber time: 2193.01 d’L rakasa ~//

            The night I swore my oath, I left Amber on a quest. I found Ansteorra in Forest Arden. The Force is leading me somewhere, though I know not what I seek or to where.

‘You will know when you are calm...at peace.’ – Master Yoda

            I wandered shadow until I found myself in a shadow of New York City. There I met two lost children of Amber, Laton Saldana and Jack Dalton. I told them of Amber and with the help of Roberto de Alexander [Michael’s apprentice] convinced them of their heritage.

            I trumped us to Amber. I teleported us from there to the Pattern far below the ruins of the castle. Each of them in turn walked the grand design and went their separate ways, but not before I gave each of them a trump of myself to contact me.

            The Spyder and Valian returned to Amber. After a brief reunion we set off on different paths to find ways to restore Amber, and find the survivors.

Amber Time: 2493.15 d’L djaya ~////

            I was hunting Jessiica, Michaela and their armies. Vengeance or redemption? My motives were unclear. A long forgotten, yet familiar sensation...a trump call...it was Michael. “Jessica, come back to Amber. You won’t believe what’s happened.”

            “Pull me through,” I replied extending my hand to meet his.

            I stood in the Great Hall of Castle Amber. Around the table sat Corwin, Bleys, Dalt, Coral (without the Jewel of Judgement in her eye socket), Rinaldo, Fiona, Flora, Valian, Michael and new faces I’d never seen. Random sat at the head of the table with the Jewel around his neck.

            Michael introduced me to the new faces. A dwarf, straight out of fantasy novels, named Woodrow–son of Fiona and Suhuy. A young man wearing Julian’s armor, named Ray–son of Llewella; a handsome, barbarian looking man named Agnar–son of Gerard; a blonde haired, blue-eyed woman dressed in blue and red bearing a red ‘S’ on her chest–daughter of the lost elder Alura, named Kariss also called Supergirl. The last to be introduced was the son of Coral and Merlin, stepson of Rinaldo, named Paul.

            Michael quickly brought me up to date with a mental flash. I reached out to Ygg to learn the details. Sixty-three years ago, 2430 d’L, Merlin was challenged by Lord Aurelius to a duel, following a vote of ‘no confidence.’ Aurelius declared himself King of Chaos and began waging war on Amber. Most of my aunts and uncles flocked to the defense of the true city. Somehow almost as if by design the third generation of Amber, except Rinaldo, was kept out of the war. How many blood curses uttered in those last days were still having effect?

            Gerard, to protect the Pattern, had cursed the Castle itself. With his dying actions he toppled the one true castle, burying the Pattern below and protecting it from harm. Benedict and Julian died in defense of that which they loved most. Brand and Dierdre, side by side, fell to the same forces that killed Benedict. Llewella died recently in the ruins of Rebma. Corwin had been trapped in the Shadows of his own Pattern, now the Shadows of Ygg. The rest of the elders were scattered through Shadow with their spirits broken.

            This new, ‘younger’ group of Amberites had restored the Castle using the Pattern of Tir-na Nog’th. It was the Castle from before the clash of the Pattern and the Logrus, but it was home, more-or-less. These ‘younger’ Amberites had succeeded where the elders failed. They had rescued Random from prison, restored order and hope to the city, even united the sons and daughters of Oberon under a new banner designed after the standard of the Roman legion that now served the city, RPQS–the Kingdom and People of Amber – Regnum Populus Que Sucinum.

            Valian left seeking to free Thangor from the dungeons of Chaos. Michael and I kept in contact with him via Trump and Ygg, respectively. Both Valian and Thangor traversed the Logrus before returning to Amber.

            Michael tried to contact Julia “Ghostrider” Blaze, by Trump, but made no contact. He then conjured Merlin’s Trump deck and pulled the Trump of the Council Chamber. It was decided, Valian –son of Corwin and Dara, younger brother to Merlin – would claim his brother’s throne. The armies of Corwin and Dalt were to lay in wait. Michael, Thangor and I were to act as Valian’s seconds.

            We trumped to the council chamber and Valian issued his challenge. Aurelius accepted, but as expected it was not a fair duel. Aurelius employed magic against Valian. Michael gave aid to Valian as did I through the Force. I called upon the Dark Side, draining away the life essence of the usurper, had I known Michael was using sorcery to do the same I might have held back.

            In the end, Valian had won. Aurelius was dead. Valian declared himself the true king, no one among the representatives of the twelve great houses objected, openly. Valian Trumped in Lady Felicity, former servant of Mandor, and proposed to her. We then proceeded to Trump the remainder of Amber’s Royal Family, Mandor, Volor, Nathaniel, Dara, and Delia (Dara’s twin; Michael’s mother, believed died in childbirth all these years), finally Suhuy.

            Suhuy, a high priest of Chaos, crowned Valian. Volor, Valian’s half-brother, was appointed King’s Champion; Thangor, master-at-arms and general of the armies of Chaos; Michael, majordomo, chief counselor and sorcerer to the throne.

             All present, representing the Courts of Chaos, swore an oath of fealty to the new king, except Mandor. He said, “I pledge my loyalty to the crown, such as it is.” The tension in the chamber increased with that statement. That having been said, Mandor rose and walked away from the throne, turning his back to Valian as he did, and returned to his seat.

            I officiated over the wedding. “Marriage, but most religious sects throughout Shadow, is considered to be the most sacred union and commitment two beings can make to another,”I began. “We stand here now before the Royal houses of the Courts of Chaos and the Royal family of Amber, and the eyes of all divine, the unite this man, Valian, son of Corwin of Amber and Dara of House Hendrake bren Sawall, adopted son to Julian of Amber, King of the Courts of Chaos and his woman Lady Felicity Duboise of Chaos in matrimony.”

            “Do you, Valian, King of Chaos take this woman to be your wife?” I asked.

            “I do,” Valian replied.

            “Do you, Lady Felicity, take this man to be your husband?” I asked.

            A single tear rolled down her cheek and a barely audible voice said, “yes.”

            “Do you have a ring?” I asked. Michael magically produced a ring and gave it to Valian. “Repeat after me, while placing the ring on her finger. With this ring... I thee wed.”

            “Lady Felicity, take this ring, place it on his finger, and repeat after me,” I said unclenching my left hand to reveal a golden band. “With this ring... I thee wed.”

            Lady Felicity took Valian’s massive hand into her dainty palm, but though her mouth moved, no sound followed, only tears of joy.

            “I now pronounce you, husband and wife,” I concluded.“May the Force be with you, always.”

            At the reception feast, Mandor died of a heart attack and brain hemorrhage. Yes, I killed him. The last true dark blot on my soul, my hatred for Mandor, consumed me. I knew he would plot against my cousin and friend. I know Michael planned to do the deed himself, but my way put the blame on no one, traceable. It looked like natural causes. I will carry this dark deed with me for some time, because I doubt I shall ever feel remorse for Mandor’s death.

            I returned to Amber with the rest of the Royal Family. Peace reigned again, but we all knew there were still forces opposing both Amber and Valian’s throne waiting in the shadows.

Amber Time: 2493.17 d’L djaya ///<

            I took one of the guest rooms in the castle, until reconstruction of my old apartment with a balcony overlooking my garden could be completed. My living silk dress hung dripping from a rope over the tub I’d had brought in. I stood naked before a full length mirror. The years in Shadow were beginning to take their toll on my beauty. I no longer had the youthful twenty-something appearance I had in 2403 d’L, when Michael first brought me to back Amber, at least that’s my opinion. Despite the healing abilities of the Force, my Amber blood, my living silk dress, and Michael’s sorcery, there are faint scars on my back from all the abuse I’ve endured; the tiniest trace of stretch marks on my breasts and abdomen from childbirth; scars from cuts and scratches on my feet, legs and arms; a touch of gray in my red-blonde hair . . . but the deepest scars few will ever see. The scars on my spirit. From Prath’s senseless murder of Silisity, to Sith World, the ravagements I’ve endured, the hatred of Jessiica, the loss of my children to their own paths, to T’Amber, and Mandor’s murder . . . scars that cannot truly be healed or seen.

            I had the body of a twenty-one-year-old, though I’d lived thirty-six years, when I’d first arrived back in Amber. By the reckoning of time here in Amber, I was 234 years old, then. Now, I have the body of a forty-year-old, but I still look damn good for a woman of 324.

            I blink while brushing my hair and I can no longer see the aging, but like my aunts still retain my youth. Maybe it’s the Force, or Ygg trying to make me atone for Mandor’s death, perhaps . . . no, he’s dead and I’m glad I did it. After all these years, I finally catch him with his guard down and get revenge for myself and all of Amber. My ‘twin’ sister is next . . .

            ‘Once you start down the Dark path, forever, will it dominated your destiny.’

                                    – Master Yoda

            Once again, I’ve come full circle. There is more good in me than evil, but I will always feel the pull of the Dark Side.

            I decided to visit my garden, so I got dressed and went down the back stair and out the rear entrance of the castle. I looked up of where my balcony used to be, then down the line of the castle upon my garden. Almost a hundred years ago, Michael planted a sapling of Ygg and carefully planned a garden around it for me. The sapling was now a towering tree. The garden was overgrown and looked more like a jungle than a garden.

            Agnar knelt, near the spot where Michael and I first picnicked all those years ago, weeding and trying to fashion a shrub into a bonsai shape. Somewhat nostalgically, I walked the now forgotten footpath. When I reached the spot where Agnar knelt, I said, “Looks nice. Must be hard to train them to grow properly.”

            “Not really,” he replied. “You just tie it here, clip it there, then ask it to continue to grow in the new fashion.”

            As I watched, Ygg silently greeted me. I apologized for not speaking first. The tree mentioned to me there were still members of Agnar’s clan and Ray’s fiancee being held prisoner in Shadow. “Agnar, I hear members of your clan are still missing,” I said. “I’m willing to help you find them.”

            “I would be honored, Lady Jessica,” Agnar replied. “But wouldn’t you rather settle in here again, first?”

            “Many a Jedi Master has berated me for my seeking adventure and excitement,” I replied. “Besides, truth be known, with Michael and the others gone, it’s just not the same. I’m out of date anyway. Amber belongs to your generation now.”

            “But we are of the same generation,” he said.

            “By the blood of our parents alone,” I pointed out. “There are four standard generations of time between us. Grandfather’s children all grew up togther, more-or-less. As did my companions and I, from a certain point of view. But you, Ray, Woodrow, and Kariss are a new breed, different from the rest of us. You’ve different values, new viewpoints, and in general hundreds of years younger, despite the timeflow of Shadow, relatively speaking by Amber time.

            “From a certain point of view?” he questioned.

            “Many truths depend upon our own point of view,” I answered. “Kariss seems to be content to play guardian to Amber. Random and his siblings have put aside their differences to defend Amber. So what prevents us from searching for your people?”

            “Nothing,” he said. “But let’s clear the weeds and commune with Ygg to clear our minds first.”

            I agreed. I used my lightsabre like a scythe and trimmed the tall grasses. In the process I discovered the stone bench Michael had thoughtfully placed beneath the tree. I invited Agnar to sit beside me on the bench. With the aid of Ygg and the Force I related to him the history of my generation. He seemed to appreciate my honesty, but I’m unsure of his trust because of my darkness. We do share a common bond with Yggdrasil, however.

            Feeling more at ease with my newfound cousin and thanks to Ygg with myself, we went to “Bloody’s.” The new owner, Harold, a man from Shadow brought to Amber by Agnar and company, elected to drop the name of the previous owner, in hopes of breaking the apparent curse. Once inside, little had changed, we spotted Woodrow and Ray seated at a table drinking.

            We took two seats at the table. I ordered a seafood platter and a bottle of Bayle’s Best. We ate, drank, and discussed plans to rescue Agnar’s clansmen and Ray’s fiancee. Ray claims to have knowledge of their location. His plan was to mount horses and ride out of Amber, then Hellride. I suggested Trumping to my home Shadow and starting our Hellride from there. They agreed that it was faster than shifting Shadow near Amber, so I Trumped us all to Mimban.

            Ray determined there were four abandoned Imperial Speederbikes beyond a cluster of bushes. We each mounted one. Ray and Woodrow immediately began playing cat and mouse with their new toys, just like an Ewok had years ago on Endor. Agnar actually asked a few intelligent, tactical questions before Agnar and I rode to catch up.

            I almost allowed the Bogworm to catch them, but directed it away instead. When Agnar and I finally caught up to Ray and Woodrow, I asked, “Are we going to stay here and play or go seeking the captives?”

            “We’re going to find the captives,” Ray replied.

            “Then start shifting Shadow and lead on,” I insisted. He looked at me puzzled for a moment. Then it dawned on him. I ‘ve heard his power over the Pattern is advanced beyond mine, not to the degree I had before Amanda’s birth, but he lacks the initiative to use it. Hopefully he’ll learn . . . they’ll all learn.

            Suddenly we weren’t in Star Wars any more. A short time later our speeders quit functioning, but our horses were waiting a few meters away. It has been a long time since I saw my palomino, Goldenrod. I approached him with an energy bar from the ration pack on the speederbike. I fed it to him and through the Force, spoke to him my joy that he was still in good health, especially in light of what happened to Amber. He told me he had been running free in the Grove of the Unicorn until recently. He also said he and the Unicorn had mated. It was her idea he assured me. She gave birth to a blue and red striped palomino colt, named Desirée. I didn’t doubt him, after all it was Desirée that brought Kariss to Amber.

            We mounted our horses and followed Ray’s lead again into Shadow. The sky grew darker. The trees faded. The surrounding area became a virtual desert. A small, medieval city appeared on the horizon. A chill ran down my spine. The very air tasted evil. This was where the prisoners were. I could feel it. It felt like . . . I’ll keep that to myself for now.

            I withdrew into a meditation trance, part based on the Force and part Ygg. Blindly I followed Ray to the house of a friend he’d known before. We dismounted while Ray talked with the man who answered the door. I heard only a few words, ‘slaves, mine, temple, and sacrifice.’ Ray led us to a tunnel, which led to the temple via secret passage.

            At the end of the tunnel stood a number of guards, but I could feel more hiding in the shadows. Agnar suggested I use the Force, as Obi Wan had on the Death Star, to distract them. Ray had other plans. He cast a teleport spell and they vanished.

            Several of Agnar’s people were being held in a room directly in front of us, behind a heavily warded door. As Ray began to unravel the spells on the door, Woodrow in his Chaos form, which made him look like a demon, went on a recon of the left tunnel. When Agnar and Ray finally got though the door, the people had vanished, teleported away.

            Woodrow came back and reported finding a guard barracks. The rest of us followed him. There were some hundred odd soldiers and servants just around the corner. I handed Agnar my cloak, then made my dress more seductive than normal. It was sleeveless, backless, and only two small spaghetti straps held it up, barely covering my breasts. Then I shortened the skirt to 5cm above my knees. “This aught to distract them. There’s at least one female prisoner in the barracks, you get her and take out what’s left.”

            I walked, or rather slinked, around the corner. Cat-calls, whistles, etc. began immediately. I paused, dropped a strap from my shoulder, smiled and began a seductive dance, which included numerous ‘follow me’ gestures. Follow they did. Even the most experienced whore would have trouble pleasing this crowd, fortunately that was not my intent. I could read their emotions easily, and had to fight for control not to succumb to the feelings coming from the woman in the barracks had to fight to control my own emotions and memories. I had to lead them away.

            The path I took led us into Shadow. A Shadow full of women abused by men. Women who had been beaten, raped, molested, etc. Women who had become as Amazons and turned the tables to become the dominate sex. Purposely I stumbled, fell, and lay ‘helpless’ on my back. My skirt had ‘fallen up’ and my left breast had ‘popped out.’ The mob of men began to fall upon me...the army of Amazons fell upon them. I joined the melee, briefly, then shifted Shadow back to where I left my cousins.

            I strolled, nonchalantly, down the corridor. As I walked my dress returned to its usual dimensions. I began to feel her pain again. It was Ray’s fiancee, as I’d feared. To gather my courage and composure I began to hum...ironically the theme from the movie: Return of the Jedi.

            The scene in the barracks brought back painful memories. Ray was holding his fiancee, trying to console her. Agnar held her hand as a good healer might. I almost broke into an evil laughter remembering how I killed my tormentor, but I pushed it back. I stopped humming and approached the sweat and blood stained bunk. She was badly beaten and bruised. She muttered incoherently. “Can you help her? She’s been..” Agnar began.

            I cut him off with a wave of my hand saying, “I know. I felt it. I’ve been through it...more than once.” I placed my hand on her forehead, spanning her temples. ‘A Jedi can feel the Force flowing through her, but only when she is calm, at peace,’ I heard in my head as I relaxed.

            “Shayla, you are not alone,” I said in her mind, as I began to use the Force to heal her wounds, both physical and mental. “I know your pain. I know you will recover as I have. This will make you stronger. Ray’s love for you has not diminished because of this. There is no shame for you in this. There is no emotion, there is peace . . . share your pain as I share mine. Together we shall make each other whole.”

            For several minutes, we shared this bond. We shared experiences, strengths, weaknesses. We shared emotion. Anger, fear, anxiety, pain, love . . . calm. I moved away from her, pleased with my accomplishments. Pleased with her sense of peace. She was not yet whole, but she was recovering.

            Woodrow had made Trump contact with his wife in Amber. We sent Shayla to her and Ray with her for support. Ray’s emotions turned to hate, I could feel it. A familiar voice echoed in my head, ‘Avenge her as you avenged yourself. Kill them all. Hunt them down . . . ’

            Through the Force, I located Agnar’s people in the temple. Three priests in black and red robes were preparing them for a sacrificial ceremony. I teleported us to the chamber. Each of us in turn killed one of the priests (Agnar, Woodrow and I). I used the Force to Detoxify the fifteen emaciated members of Agnar’s clan, removing from them all traces of the drugs they’d been given. The drain on me was great . . . healing them all at once, but that voice drove me on, ‘Heal them. Take their pain. Feed on it . . . grow stronger.’

            The clansmen were also sent to Amber, via Woodrow’s wife. I said with an evil glint in my eye, and in the tone of my voice, “Shall we take Albrecht to an arena of our choosing? Or fight him here in his domain?”

            “How can we do that?” Agnar asked.

            “Has either of you ever seen him?” I responded. Woodrow had. I plucked the image from his mind. Then located Albrecht through the Force. “Being an advanced level Trump Artist has its advantages.”

            I Trumped us to Mimban, then teleported us to the Temple of the Kaiburr Crystal. Mentally I drew a Trump of Albrecht and brought him through. Woodrow and Agnar assaulted him. Albrecht began to cast a spell, but I determined magic no longer works in this Shadow. ‘Join them. Torture him as only a true Sith Master can. Come Jedi, you know how.’ the voice continued. This was not a faceless disembodied voice, but my own . . . my Dark Side. I refused to give in to it. I Trumped Ray and Shayla to us instead. Albrecht sat holding the stump of his right hand. Ray pulled his Pattern Staff out of Albrecht’s mid-section where Woodrow had thrust it. Ray changed the staff into a sword, began to strike, then handed it to Shayla.

            Shayla raised the weapon to strike a killing blow to Albrecht’s head. She stopped and dropped the sword at Ray’s feet, then stepped back. Ray took up the sword, Shayla turned away, and with one swift stroke, which would have made Owen cringe, separated Albrecht’s head from his body.

            I must admit I have to respect Shayla’s self-control, but I also know the satisfaction vengeance would have given her. Fortunately for her and Ray, she’s not pregnant after her ordeal. Ray attempted to cast a spell, which of course failed. I asked, “Ray, did you wish to use magic against his body?”

            “I was going to burn it,” he replied.

            “Ok, try it now, magic should work again,” I said with a wave of my hand. There are advantages to having complete control over personal Shadows. Ray tried his spell again and Albrecht’s body burst into flame. It burned rapidly, I don’t enjoy the scent of burning human flesh, leaving a few ashes. Woodrow went into the swamp to hunt for food. Ray stepped out of the Temple and broke a branch off a live tree. I cringed, saying, “Warn me next time you plan to do that.”

            He looked at me without understanding. I explained, “This planet is one of the strongest with the Force in the Galaxy, possibly even in all Shadow. I can feel its pain when things like that happen, without cause. Trees especially because of their connection to Yggdrasil, and mine to him.”

            “Sorry, I didn’t know,” Ray said. We ate, then Trumped back to rescue the remainder of Agnar’s people. I sent Shayla back to Amber at the same time. I Trumped us back to the location from which we departed. We made our way to the temple proper and dispatched the remaining priests. As I left the structure I located the main load bearing member and cut it down with my lightsabre.

            Ray, Agnar, and Woodrow took notice of the building’s eminent collapse and ran out the front door. I calmly walked out humming the ‘Imperial March.’ Just as I cleared the temple steps the structure completed its collapse. “Are you crazy?” “You could have been killed!” “Didn’t you realize the temple was collapsing?” they all cried at once, so it was difficult to determine who said what.

            “Of course I knew. I cut the load beam,” I smiled. “You boys really need to learn how to use the power of the Pattern. I knew I would probably get clear before it collapsed.” That having been said, I whistled for Goldenrod. He came trotting up leading all but Ray’s horse, which had been returned to Amber. A quick sketch in the dirt and I Trumped him to us.

            The sky began to lighten, Diablo, the demon that ruled this Shadow probably died when the temple collapsed on top of his domain beneath it. We mounted our horses and rode toward the mines. There were about a hundred guards visible at the mine. Ray determined the ground would collapse beneath them. It did, killing ninety or so, but he didn’t think about the mine below.

            Agnar’s people were trapped, but they were probably on the other side of the cave in. Agnar followed Woodrow into the shaft entrance. In his Chaos form, the dwarf could track Agnar’s people by scent. They came out of the mineshaft into the forty foot deep crater caused by Ray’s use of the Pattern, as I knew they would. I smiled and waved from the edge when they looked up. They began to clear the rubble on the other side. I located the leader the group through the Force and planted in his mind the suggestion to step back.

            Agnar punched through the cave-in, clearing a man-sized hole. He and Woodrow entered. They did not have sufficient light to use Ray’s Trump to bring the people out, and Ray had used his teleport spells. Partly for show, partly out of necessity, I used the Force to enhance my acrobatic skill and somersaulted to the bottom of the pit. I crawled through the opening and called upon the Force again to create light from my body, sometimes called Force Lights. Woodrow and Ray could now use the Trump to bring everyone to the surface, but by now Ray had a new teleport spell racked and could see everyone, making it safer anyway.

            Woodrow began sending Agnar’s people through to his wife one by one, using the Trump drawn by Kariss. I created a Trump Gate and said, “This way’s faster.” Once everyone, including our horses, were through the gate, I stepped through and closed it behind me.

Amber Time: 2493.24 d’L maga >///

            The last loose end resulting from Aurelius’ usurpation of Chaos was tied. The ripples would be felt for a long time to come, however. Valian loves Amber more than Merlin ever could, but there will always be friction between the Courts of Chaos and Amber, no matter who occupies the thrones.

            During the time spent rescuing Ray’s fiancee, Shayla, my apartment had been reconstructed. I think Supergirl helped out with her superspeed, but she won’t admit she did anything for me. The furnishings are not as personalized as before, but definitely fit for a duchess of Amber blood.

            I regret not having been in Amber when she needed me. “There’s nothing you could have done had you been there. You’d ’ve been killed too . . . ” echoed a voice from the past. Perhaps so, but I might have saved Vialle. Random will never be the same with her gone. She was pregnant when I last saw her. I wonder what became of her son? I’ve heard Agnar, Ray, Woodrow and Kariss were aided by a man named Steven Rogers, also known as Captain America. He claimed to be a son of Random. Could he be the child of Random and Vialle, hidden in Shadow for his protection? Or is there another? If so, did he survive? Could Ray’s interpretation of the Pattern’s answer be wrong? Could Vialle still be alive?

            The more pressing problem is Jessiica and Michaela. They pose a major threat to Amber. Their weapons are far superior to anything in Amber. The only hope of resistance would have been Prath’s Super Star Destroyer, but it was left in T’Amber. There is another beneath the surface of Amber’s ocean, or there was seventy-two years ago, but what has almost a hundred years in the deep done to it. Could it even be reached?

            I’m feeling a disturbance in the Force. It’s large enough to change everything. As I look through the lens of the Kaiburr Crystal, I realize I’m correct. Owen has taken possession of two fragments of the master crystal. He has two Pattern charged lightsabres and command of the Force. When last I saw him he was Benedict’s equal or better. With command of the Pattern and the Force, combined with his skill at combat, he could easily take Amber or Chaos at his whim. With his leadership ability he could control both thrones. What are his intentions? Would I be viewed as a threat or an ally?

            ‘Ally with him and rule Amber as you were meant to,’ came that dark voice again. ‘To oppose him would be suicide.’

            “To join him would violate the vow I made when Amanda was born,” I said aloud. “Until I know his plans I will think on this no more.”

            Escrima told me Amanda received my Holocron. She must be close to ninety by now. I wonder if she’s still alive. He time it would be about 2482 d’L; here it’s 2493 d’L. How long has it been since Escrima saw her? What’s happening in her world?

            I really need to stop dwelling on things I cannot change. ‘Through the Force, things you will see. Other places, the future, the past, old friends long gone.’

            The maternal instinct runs deep in me. I feel the urge to have another child. The need to raise this one in Amber. The new children of Amber need someone to teach them, but they’re all grown. Granted they look up to me, as my companions and I did the elders, but I feel more like a sister than a mother, and rightly so.

            Aunt Llewella died of a broken heart they say...something to do with Ray. Aunt Fiona has borne two children, Nathaniel –son of Mandor, whom she married, and Woodrow –son of Suhuy. I wonder how she feels about the way her children have turned out? Does she have any regrets? Aunt Florimel hasn’t borne any children to my knowledge. I knew the regret of my mother, Dierdre. What happened to Joanna, daughter of Jonathan and Corson of Mystique? Aunt Coral has borne Merlin’s child, Paul, but as yet has not conceived a child by Rinaldo. Kariss still mourns her lost husband and also has not conceived.

            I could have any man in Amber or Shadow I desired, but it’s not a ‘love child’ I want. I want a child born of love, sorry Michael. Few Amberites, at least royalty, settle down and get married, but that’s exactly what I’m looking for isn’t it? There are too many loose ends in my life to tie up first, but someday...maybe.

            I think it’s time to leave Amber again, perhaps get my mind off such things, and see where the Force guides me. Should I go alone, or take Agnar and his friends with me? One thing for sure, I need to seek out a copy of my journals for the library, the volume before this one, that was lost during the war. This new group of Amberites should have access to that period of history, even if it is colored by my point of view. On second thought, I could use the branches of Ygg and bring a copy here, much like a Logrus master uses the Logrus’ tentacles. That having been accomplished, I’m going to soak in a hot bubble bath.

            A dark cave, illuminated by an eerie yellowish glow. Trudging through knee deep, cold water. Sitting on the bank, staring into the pool, a young woman, familiar yet unknown. The reflection in the pool was not her own, but that of a man with the horns of a ram. Darkness, only two humanoid figures in the distance. Closer, a woman being ravaged by a winged man with ram horns. A faint voice... “Mother, help me!”

            I sat up, water splashed everywhere. I must have fallen asleep. The water was cold. The bubble were gone. The dream was a vision of the future, but how far distant? I could not bring it back, but I know what it meant...Amanda has jumped spokes. She’s here in the Shadows of my Amber.

            Was Amanda the reason for my nostalgia about children? Was it that actively seeking me out caused ripples in the Force that produced these feelings? I knew her chronological age, but what of her physical and mental age? The blurred images of my vision were difficult to judge, late teens or early twenties?

            Still dripping wet, I lay on my bed, mentally rifling through my Trump deck. Finding the card I wanted I called out, “Agnar, I need your help.”

            Was Amanda the reason for my nostalgia about children? Was it that actively seeking me out caused ripples in the Force that produced these feelings? I knew her chronological age, but what of her physical and mental age? The blurred images of my vision were difficult to judge, late teens, early twenties?

            During the time spent in shadow rescuing Ray’s fiancee, Shaila, my apartment had been reconstructed. I think Supergirl helped out with her superspeed, but she won’t admit she did anything for me. The furnishings are not as personal as before, but definitely fit for a duchess of Amber blood..

            Still dripping wet, I lay on my bed, mentally rifling through my Trump deck. “Agnar,” I said. “I need your help.”

            “Jessica” he replied, “As beautiful as you are I...”

            “No, not that,” I interrupted, realizing that I was lying naked on my bed and how that must look through Trump. Gathering the comforter around me, I continued, “No it’s my daughter, Amanda. She’s in danger and I’d like your help finding her, before its too late.

            “Gladly, I’ll collect supplies and ask Woodrow and Ray to join us,” he said.

            “Great. Meet me in the dining hall when you’re ready,” I concluded breaking the contact.

            My hair was still wet, but the rest of me was now dry, but my bed was soaked. I remade the bed, dressed, brushed my hair and made my way to the dining room to wait for Agnar.

            In the month that’s passed since we rescued Shayla, I made a trip back to Star Wars. I restored the damage done to my shadow by the Yuzzum Vong, and sent them back barring their return to my beloved galaxy. I also purchased a few more dresses of living silk, and a Jedi robe as well. One of the dresses I’d purchased was a heavier, winter-weight cloth, which I wore under my robe. I’d also purchased a pair of thigh boots that were so light I almost felt as if I were barefoot. These I also wore, after all winter had returned to Amber.

            One of the servants brought me a tray of ham, cheese and bread, along with a carafe of coffee. I thanked her and she went one her way. I didn’t feel like eating but knew I had to nourish my body before making this trip. I had to decide the best way to seek her out. Then it struck me, I could travel thought Ygg, and it would be faster than Hellriding.

            Agnar and Woodrow walked in as I was finishing the last of the coffee. “Ray is off in Shadow with Shayla, but Woodrow and I are ready to go,” Agnar said. The scent of female pheremones and sweat exuded from Woodrow. He’d tried to clean up, but for some reason my senses were sharper than normal this afternoon. There was a familiar quality to those scents, could it be after all these years he was finally to become a father? I could not be sure and didn’t want to get his hopes up, so I kept silent.

            I quickly told them all I knew of Amanda from her conception to my latest vision. They both agreed she probably was heading into danger. We collected our personal gear and went to the garden. Ygg was a bit harder to reach than usual, because of the season, but Agnar and I entered the tree, carrying Woodrow along with us.

            Racing through the roots and branches of Ygg through shadow was more exhilarating than walking the Pattern within the Kaiburr Crystal, or the wildest roller coaster. As we slowed near the shadow where I felt Amanda’s presence. I heard a voice call to me, “Leave the influence of my brother and I will give you real power.” I recognized the evil intent behind the voice for it mirrored my own dark inner voice. Drasil, the dark sister to Ygg, was tempting me to the dark side.

            Our wild ride ended at the edge of a forest. The land before us looked as it if had been burned. Evil radiated from the very ground we must cross . . . five miles to a lonely mountain.

            A Trump call, very faint . . . Owen and Michael. Valian calling through Ygg. I opened my mind to them. Owen wore the black garb of Damien Omega. He had recently walked the Pattern with two lightsabres bearing Kaiburr Crystal fragments. He also had become strong with the Force. “Sister, we are off to shadow seeking Vialle and her son,” Owen said in a calm even tone. “Care to join us?”

            “I would if I were not seeking my own daughter,” I replied.

            “Michaela?” asked Valian and Michael together.

            “No, Amanda,” I said. “My other daughter. The one I left behind eighty-nine years ago in that other Amber.”

            “Alone?” Valian asked.

            “No, Agnar and Woodrow are with me.”

            “Vialle and her son are alive,” Owen argued. “Random hid them in shadow before the fall of Amber.”

            “Great. Glad to hear it.” I said trying to break contact against their combined psyches. “Random be damned. I have my own child to save,” I thought.

            Valian went on about how he’d abdicated the throne of Chaos, leaving it to whomever draws a special sword from the center of the Logrus. A comment was made about me trying for it, but knowing Valian and Michael I wouldn’t qualify even if I wanted to try.

            Consciously, I’ve lost the desire to rule anywhere. I only maintain control of Star Wars because I need a refuge now and then. The Vong were destroying it and that was the only reason I put things right, but somewhere in shadow even that battle rages on.

            Finally I convinced them I had to save Amanda, and they broke contact.

            She was already inside the mountain. The Force was difficult to utilize in this shadow. I could feel her presence, but little else. Agnar, Woodrow and I began walking across the black land toward the mountain.

            Along the way we fought demons, pixies, and dragons. The seemed to spring from the ground. The sense of foreboding all around. Before we reached the mountain, we’d lost all our supplies, mostly Agnar’s herbs, and my clothes had been shredded, several times. The final tear in my winter weight living silk dress had mended, just outside the cave, when Owen and the refugees from the Courts of Chaos contacted me again. They were at the edge of the forest, having arrived via Ygg just as we had. I focused all the power I could muster through the Force, which was more difficult at the base of the mount than it had been for the last four hours crossing the burned land, and teleported them to me.

            For the first time, since I discovered he was studying the ways of the Force, I had a chance to truly size up my brother. Although he could still best me in combat, in a psychic duel of the Force I would win. ‘He could be controlled. Make him your slave and both thrones could be yours,’ encouraged my dark inner voice.

            Agnar and Woodrow elected to guard our backs, while Valian let the rest of us into the cave. A few meters into the cave we were trudging through knee deep water, which produced an eerie yellowish glow. For the first time in years, I felt inadequate, almost useless. Being shorter than my male companions, I brought up the rear due to the resistance of the water.

            Owen, being the combat master he is, utilized the Combat Sense power of the Force to its greatest potential. He pointed out the shadow demons lurking above, which Michael destroyed with a ‘flick of his magic wrist.’ Owen warned of the water beast lurking in front of us. Between my three companions, it died quickly.

            The only thing I could do was notice bits of fabric here and there. I knew it was the remains of Amanda’s clothing. I could sense, her fear. Along her way through this cavern she was being deprived of her belongings and her dignity. I could sense her near gratitude at receiving the sheer white gown...her wedding gown. A slight calm as she sat on the bank, staring into a pool. Fear, loathing, revulsion, as the horned man came out of the water and drug her away from the water’s edge.

            Thirty demonic creatures lay in wait as we reached the spot where she’d sat. The details are a bit fuzzy from here. Owen and Michael took on the horned man, while Valian and I dealt with the demons. I killed three with one blow of my Jedi weapon. Another attacked from behind, a flick of my wrist and my blade was pointing backward, thrust into his gut. Another one died, and another. The fell swiftly and easily before my blade. They say there’s nothing more dangerous than a mother defending her young, I guess I proved this true.

            When all the demons were dead, Michael led Amanda out of the darkest part of the cave. Owen only slightly ahead of him. Michael had conjured up clothing for her, probably in the style she was accustomed. She wore a black halter top, a black and pink plaid mini-skirt, sandals, a black cape with a pink lining, and a wide pink belt. Her lightsabre hung from her belt and greatly resembled mine, including the Kaiburr Crystal chip I had somehow transferred to her in the dream.

            I rushed toward her, covered in the black ichor the demons used for blood. I embraced her, not wanting to let go. Tears rolled down my cheeks and my voice quivered as I begged, “Amanda, please forgive me for leaving you behind.”

            “I do,” she sobbed returning my embrace. “I received your Holocron cube a month ago and it explained everything. I understood, and forgave you then.”

            I broke the embrace and choked back my teas and replied in shock, “A month ago?” I looked at her closely, she was no older than seventeen, eighteen at the most. He red-blonde hair, green eyes, her father’s pointed ears and fanged mouth, yes this was the child I bore. “When did you head out into shadow?”

            “Right after I finished with the Holocron. Three weeks after I woke from my nightmare with that crystal in my hand,” she said. “It was the crystal that guided me here.”

            “That was seventy-two years ago!” I said. “How’d you cross over?”

            “The same way you did,” she replied. “Only I used the Pattern in the crystal.”

            “That explains a few things,” I said. Since I’d used both the crystal and the Pattern, my jump had been momentary, but at the expense of my powers. She used only the crystal and for her time stood still until the crystal shard zeroed in on itself. Somewhere in this shadow, now that I looked for it, I felt the Kaiburr Crystal – the master crystal which Benedict hid years ago.

            “Let’s go home,” I said, Trumping the six of us back to Amber. After making proper introductions, Amanda and I retired to my apartment. I had seventeen years to catch up on.

            She had been raised well, no hint of darkness in her, unlike her sister and myself of course. She dad brought with her the Holocron cube, but had lost it along with her other possessions in the cave. I took out a piece of paper and a pencil from my desk, and sketched the cube, then pulled it out of the depths of the dark waters, via the Trump sketch. I handed it back to her, jokingly saying, “Next time be more careful where you drop your toys.”

            She smiled and placed it on the table. We began to talk about her adventures. Too bad so few Amberites had enough concentration of midi-chlorians to use it, the Holocron would make a wonderful addition to the library. She knew she could never go back to the Amber she grew up in. Her ‘cousins’ would be over seventy years older than she was. The one she would miss most was the girl Pallas. I had a suspicion they were more than friends, or she wished them to be.

            As we talked I realized she was a reasonably mature, though inexperienced, young woman. She needed me less as a mother than a friend. The best I could hope for was a Master-Padawan relationship. She needed someone to help her understand her powers and teach her to control them. I hadn’t taken an apprentice since Silisity was murdered. Even Michaela couldn’t really qualify, she’d developed too fast. Michaela is what Prath made her through my actions, and the child of the two most powerful Amberites of the third generation. She was also the result of a forbidden union: Michael, son of Eric, child of Oberon; and me, Jessica, daughter of Brand and Dierdre, children of Oberon. Besides Brand’s mother, Clarissa, only Michael’s mother, Delia, gave diversity to Michaela’s DNA. Genetically speaking she was more my sister than my daughter. Michael’s father and my mother shared the same parents. My father was my mother’s half brother. Even Michael’s mother was blood related to us being the great, great, great-granddaughter of Dworkin, Oberon’s father, through Benedict and Lintra Hendrake. Its no wonder she turned out the way she did. But enough about Michaela, back to the situation at hand.

            Amanda tole me that at a very early age she demonstrated her powers. All of Oberon’s other grandchildren were boys, until Pallas came along, so she’d used her powers to make them play games with her. When she was twelve, she completed her first solo quest. She had hunted down and defeated a sorcerer, that had once been a friend in that shadow. Battling his undead forces along the way with only the Force and a Wakizashi. The night she turned thirteen her menarche began, as did her nightmares, which I had been an unwilling party to. A few days later she walked the Pattern for the first time.

            The Pattern sent her to a shadow where she met a man named Admiral Francis Drake. He taught her of the Force and how to build a lightsabre.

            On her way back to Amber, she discovered Pallas, Oberon’s only other granddaughter. The two of them shared many adventures. Once of which included a sexual encounter with a twenty-one year old man from a shadow called Bram, she was only fifteen.

            The exchange of the Kaiburr Crystal chip came during her nightmare on the night she turned seventeen. She had it made into a broach pin at the time. A few adventures later, she received the Holocron, learned the true nature of the crystal and walked the Pattern within. She asked it to take her to the master crystal from which the fragment came. The result was a long shadow seeking journey during which she was in a hybernation trance.

Amber Time:2493.30 d’L magna

            Amanda has expressed a desire to return to her Amber. I took her to the Primal Pattern. Together we walked to its center, then carefully expressed a desire to be returned to the Amber of our own birth. I found myself alone in my new apartment. There was no change. It was the Amber I’d left. I only hope she returned safely as well. Though there is some sadness at her parting, at least we have met and know the answers to the questions we’ve both had for years. There comes a time when every parent must let go . . . this is mine.

            I don’t know what path my life will take next. With Owen’s return to Amber as a Jedi Weapons Master, there is little need for me here and Star Wars has changed too much to be called home, even if I eliminate the Yuzzem Vong.

            Perhaps I’ll wander into shadow to find a world where I can make a difference again. If not that then just wander aimlessly until I find a shadow I can settle in and finally raise a family properly.

            I wonder just how the elders managed to survive for the past two thousand four hundred ninety three years, those that are still alive, without going completely insane? Immortality sucks!

            I could take a page from Merlin’s chronicles and ask the Pattern to send me where it wants me, but that seems almost too impractical. Although . . .