Prince of Chaos. Chapter 5, 6, 7
V
As I probed forward with two of the more lethal energies of the spikard the Logrus image intercepted them and turned them off.
“I didn’t save him for you to take him out this easily,” I said, and just then something like the image of the Pattern but not really the same flashed into existence nearby.
The Sign of the Logrus slid to my left. The new thing-whatever it was-kept pace with it, both of them passing silently through the wall. Almost immediately, there followed a thunderclap that shook the building. Even Borel, who was reaching for his blade, paused in mid-gesture, then moved his hand to catch hold of the doorway. As he did this, another figure appeared at his back and a familiar voice addressed him: “Please excuse me. You’re blocking my way.”
“Corwin!” I cried. “Dad!”
Borel turned his head.
“Corwin, Prince of Amber?” he said.
“Indeed,” came the reply, “though I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“I am Borel, Duke of Hendrake, Master of Arms of the Ways of Hendrake.”
“You speak with a lot of capitals, sir, and I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” Corwin said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get through here to see my son.”
Borel’s hand moved to the hilt of his blade as he turned. I was already moving forward by then, and so was Luke. But there was a movement beyond Borel-a kick, it seemed, low-causing him to expel a lot of air and double forward. Then a fist descended upon the back of his neck and he fell.
“Come on,” Corwin called, gesturing. “I think we’d better get out of here.”
Luke and I emerged, stepping over the fallen Master of Arms of the Ways of Hendrake. The ground off to the left was blackened, as if from a recent brushfire, and a light rain had begun to fall. There were other human figures in the distance now, moving toward us.
“I don’t know whether the force that brought me here can get me out again,” Corwin said, looking about. “It may be otherwise occupied.” Several moments passed, then, “I guess it is,” he said. “Okay, it’s up to you. How do we flee?”
“This way,” I told him, turning and breaking into a run.
They followed me up the trails that had brought me to this place. I looked back and saw that six dark figures pursued us.
I headed uphill, past the markers and monuments, coming at last to the place beside the old stone wall. By then, there were shouts from behind us. Ignoring them, I drew my companions to me and came up with an impromptu couplet that described the situation and my desire in somewhat less than perfect meter. Still, the charm held, and a hurled cobble only missed me because we were already sinking into the earth.
We emerged from the fairy ring, coming up like mushrooms, and I led my companions across the field, jogging; to the sandbank. As we entered there I heard another shout. We exited the boulder and descended the rocky trail to the gibbet tree. Turning left on the trail, I began to run.
“Hold up!” Corwin called. “I feel it around here somewhere. There!”
He left the trail to the right and began running toward the base of a small hill. Luke and I followed. From behind us came the sounds of our pursuers’ emergence from the way at the boulder.
Ahead, I saw something flickering between two trees. We seemed to be heading toward it. As we drew nearer, its outline became clearer, and I realized that it possessed the contours of that Pattern-like image I had beheld back in the mausoleum.
Dad did not break stride as he approached, but charged right into the thing. And vanished. Another cry rose up behind us. Luke was next through the shimmering screen, and I was close on his heels.
We were running through a straight, glowing, pearly tunnel now, and when I glanced back I saw that it seemed to be closing in behind me.
“They can’t follow,” Corwin shouted. “That end’s already closed.”