“I never heard of such a thing,” she said. “But I don’t see why not. It is really the spirit of the person that is being venerated. There is no reason the person could not be imprisoned.”
“Or dead?”
“Or dead,” she agreed.
“Then fascinating as all this is,” I said, turning away from the altar, “it doesn’t really help me to find my father.”
I moved back to her, across what must have been a representation of Amber, stylized as the pattern on a Caucasian rug, there in the dark and light tile, the Chaotic one far off to my right.
“You would have to ask the person responsible for his blade’s being there,” she said, rising.
“I already asked the person I believed responsible. The response was not satisfactory.”
I took her arm to steer her back toward the way to the tree, and she was suddenly standing very close.
“I would like to serve our next king any way I might,” she said. “Though I may not normally speak for our House, I am certain Hendrake would agree to help you bring pressure upon the person responsible.”
“Thanks,” I said as we embraced. Her scales were cool. Her fangs would have shredded my human ear, but it was only a nibble in demon-form. “I will talk to you again if I need help along those lines.”
“Talk to me again, anyway.”
It was good to hold and be held for a time, and that is what we did, till I saw a shadow move in the vicinity of the way.
“Masster Merlin.”
“Glait!”
“Yess. I ssaw you come thiss way. Manform, demonform, grown or ssmall, I know you.”
“Merlin, what is it?” Gilva asked.
“An old friend,” I told her. “Glait, meet Gilva. And vice versa.”
“Pleassed. I came to warn you that ssomeone approachess.”
“Who?”
“Princess Dara.”
“Oh, dear!” Gilva remarked.
“You suspect where we are,” I said to her. “Keep it to yourself.”
“I value my head, Lord. What do we do now?”
“Glait, to me,” I said, kneeling and extending an arm. She flowed up it and made herself comfortable. I rose and caught hold of Gilva with the other. I sent my will into the spikard.
Then I hesitated
I didn’t know where the hell we were-really, physically, in terms of geography. A way can deliver you next door, or somewhere thousands of miles distant from its point of origin, or somewhere off in Shadow. It would take a while to have the spikard figure where we were and then work out the way back, if we were going to bypass the way. Too long, I was certain.
I could simply use it to render us invisible. But I feared my mother’s sorcerous sensitivity would be sufficient to detect our presence at levels beyond the visual.
I faced the nearest wall and extended my senses past it on a line of the spikard’s force. We were not underwater or drifting on a sea of lava or quicksand. We seemed to be in a wooded spot.
So I walked toward the wall and passed us through it when we got there.
Several paces later, in the midst of a shaded glade, I looked back and beheld a grassy hillside, with no singing coming from beneath it. We stood under a blue sky, orange sun nearing its top. There were bird and insect sounds about us.
“Marrow!” Glait exclaimed, unwound herself from my arm and vanished into the gasses.
“Don’t stay away long!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low; and I led Gilva away from the hill.
“Merlin,” she said, “I’m frightened at what I’ve learned.”
“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” I said. “If you’d like, I can even remove these memories before I send you back to the funeral.”
“No, let me keep them. I can even wish there were more.”
“I’ll figure our location and get you back before you’re missed.”
“I’ll wait with you while your friend hunts.”
I half expected her to continue, “… in case I never see you again,” what with the near skateboarding of Tmer and Tubble off this ever-mortal helix. But no, she was a demure and well-bred battle-maid-with over thirty notches on the haft of her broadsword, I later learned-and she was above stating the distasteful obvious in the presence of her possible future liege.