I’d rather the matter did not come up at all, though. I did not like the thought of being forced to choose between Amber and the Courts. I wouldn’t do it for the Unicorn and the Serpent, the Pattern and the Logrus, and I didn’t care to do it for the royalty of either court.
All of which indicated that Vialle should not have even a sketchy edition of my story. Any version at all would require an eventual accounting. However, if the Jewel were returned without an explanation of where it had been, then no one would know to come after me on the matter, and things would still be set right. How could I lie if I were not even asked questions?
I mulled that along a little further. What I would actually be doing would be to save a tired, troubled man the burden of additional problems. There was nothing he could or should do about most of my affairs. Whatever was going on between the Pattern and the Logrus seemed mainly important as a metaphysical affair. I couldn’t see where much good or bad might come out of it on a practical level. And if I saw something coming, I could always tell Random then.
Okay. That’s one nice thing about reasoning abilities. You can use them to make yourself feel virtuous rather than, say, guilty. I stretched and cracked my knuckles.
“Ghost?” I said softly.
No response.
I reached for my Trumps, but even as I touched them, a wheel of light flashed on across the room.
“You did hear me,” I said.
“I felt your need,” came the reply.
“Whatever,” I said, drawing the Jewel’s chain up over my head and holding the stone out before me. “Do you think you could return this to its secret compartment beside the fireplace in the royal suite without anyone’s being any wiser?” I asked.
“I’m leery about touching that thing,” Ghost responded. “I don’t know what its structure might do to my structure.”
“Okay,” I said. “I guess I’ll find a way to do it myself then. But the time has come to test a hypothesis. If the Pattern attacks me, try to whisk me to safety, please.”
“Very well.”
I set the Jewel on a nearby table.
After about a half minute I realized that I had braced myself against the Pattern’s death stroke. I relaxed my shoulders. I drew a deep breath. I remained intact. Could be that Dworkin was right and the Partern would leave me alone. Also, I should be able to summon the Pattern in the Jewel now, he told me, as I do the Sign of the Logrus. There were Pattern-magics which could only be wrought via this route, though Dworkin hadn’t taken the time to instruct me in their employment. He’d suggested that a sorcerer should be able to figure the system out. I decided that this could wait. I was in no mood just now for commerce of any sort with the Pattern in any of its incarnations.
“Hey, Pattern,” I said. “Want to call it even?”
There came no reply.
“I believe it is aware of you here and what you just did,” Ghost said. “I feel its presence. Could be you’re off the hook.”
“Could be,” I responded, taking out my Trumps and sorting through them.
“Whom would you like to get in touch with?” Ghost asked.
“I’m curious about Luke,” I said. “I want to see whether he’s okay. And I’m wondering about Mandor. I assume you sent him to a safe place.”
“Oh, nothing but the best,” Ghost replied. “Same for Queen Jasra. Did you want her, too?”
“Not really. In fact, I don’t want any of them. I just wanted to see-“
Ghost winked out while I was still talking. I wasn’t at all certain that his eagerness to please was an improvement over his earlier belligerence.
I withdrew Luke’s card and went inside it.
I heard someone passing along the corridor. The footsteps went on by.
I felt Luke’s awareness, though no vision of his circumstances reached me.
“Luke, you hear me?” I inquired.
“Yep,” he answered. “You okay, Merle?”
“I’m all right,” I said. “How about yourself? That was quite a fight you-“