I was back in the castle Amber, walking the sparkling length of the Corridor of Mirrors. Tapers flickered in tall holders. My footsteps made no sound. The mirrors came in all manner of shapes. They covered the walls at either hand, big ones, little ones. I passed myself within their depths, reflected, distorted, sometimes re-reflected…
I was halted before a tall, cracked mirror to my left, framed in tin. Even as I turned toward it I knew that it would not be me whom I regarded this time.
Nor was I mistaken. Coral was looking at me from out of the mirror. She had on a peach-colored blouse and was not wearing her eyepatch. The crack in the mirror divided her face down the middle. Her left eye was the green I remembered, her right was the Jewel of Judgment. Both seemed to be focused upon me.
“Merlin,” she said. “Help me. This is too strange. Give me back my eye.”
“I don’t know how,” I said. “I don’t understand what was done.”
“My eye,” she went on, as if she had not heard. “The world is all swarming forces in the Eye of Judgment, cold-so cold!-and not a friendly place. Help me!”
“I’ll find a way,” I said.
“My eye …” she continued.
I hurried by.
From a rectangular mirror in a wooden frame carved at its base in the form of a phoenix, Luke regarded me. “Hey, old buddy,” he said, looking slightly forlorn, “I’d sure like to have my dad’s sword back. You haven’t come across it again, have you?”
“ ‘Fraid not,” I muttered.
“It’s a shame to get to hold your present for such a short period of time. Watch for it, will you? I’ve a feeling it might come in handy.”
“I’ll do that,” I said.
“After all, you’re kind of responsible for what happened,” he continued.
“Right,” I agreed.
“… And I’d sure like to have it back.”
“Yeah,” I said, moving away.
A nasty chuckle emerged from a maroon-framed ellipse to my right.
Turning, I beheld the face of Victor Melman, the shadow Earth sorcerer I had confronted back when my troubles were beginning.
“Son of perdition!” he hissed. “ ‘Tis good to see you wander lost in Limbo. May my blood lie burning on your hands.”
“Your blood is on your own hands,” I said. “I count you as a suicide.”
“Not so!” he snapped back. “You slew me most unfairly.”
“Bullshit,” I answered. “I may be guilty of a lot of things, but your death is not one of them.”
I began to walk away, and his hand emerged from the mirror and clutched at my shoulder.
“Murderer!” he cried.
I brushed his hand away.
“Bugger off!” I said, and I kept going.
Then, from a wide, green-framed mirror with a greenish haze to the glass, Random hailed me from my left, shaking his head.
“Merlin! Merlin! What are you up to, anyway?” he asked. “I’ve known for some time that you haven’t been keeping me abreast of everything that’s afoot.”
“Well,” I replied, regarding him in an orange T-shirt and Levi’s; “that’s true, sir. Some things I just haven’t had time to go into.”
“Things that involve the safety of the realm-and you haven’t had time?”
“Well, I guess there’s something of a judgmental factor involved.”
“If it involves our safety, I am the one to do the judging.”
“Yes, sir. I realize that-“
“We have to have a talk, Merlin. Is it that your personal life is mixed with this in some way?”
“I guess that’s true-“
“It doesn’t matter. The kingdom is more important. We must talk.”
“Yes, sir. We will as soon as-“
“ ‘As soon as,’ hell! Now! Stop screwing around at whatever you’re up to and get your ass back here! We have to talk!”
“I will, as soon as-“
“Don’t give me that! It verges on the traitorous if you’re withholding important information! I need to see you now! Come home!”
“I will,” I said, and I hurried away, his voice joining a continuing chorus of the others, repeating their demands, their pleas, their accusations.
Out of the next one-circular, with a blue braided frame-Julia regarded me.