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Prince of Chaos by Roger Zelazny. Chapter 8, 9

As I pushed my way forward, I withdrew my spells, causing the two to revert to their own appearance. There were more shouts as this occurred, including an “I told you!” from the nearest. The response to this was a “Yes, they are!” from someone I suddenly realized to be Mandor. He stood between them and the thing on the ground.

“It was a trick!” Mandor said. “A distraction! Release them!“

I decided the moment was propitious for dropping the spells that masked Jurt and myself. Glorious confusion! Moments later, Mandor saw me and signaled for me to approach. Jurt, I saw, off to my right, had stopped to talk to someone he knew.

“Merlin!” he said as soon as I was near. “What do you know of this?”

“Nothing,” I said. “I was way to the rear, with Jurt. I don’t even know what happened.”

“Someone gave two of the security guards your appearance and Jurt’s. This was obviously intended to create confusion when the assassin struck. They rushed forward insisting they were guards. Obviously, they weren’t. Clever-especially with you and Jurt on their black watch list.”

“I see,” I agreed, wondering whether I had helped an assassin to escape. “Who got hit?”

“Tmer, with a very professional dagger stroke,” he explained, left eyelid twitching. A faint wink? Meaning? “And he was gone in an instant.”

Four mourners, having made a stretcher of cloaks, raised the fallen body. After they’d moved only a few paces with it, I saw another knot of people beyond them.

Seeing my puzzled expression, Mandor glanced back.

“More security,” he said. “They’re surrounding Tubble. I think I’ll order him out of here for now. You and Jurt, too. You can come to the temple later. I’ll see that security’s even heavier there.”

“Okay,” I said. “Is Dara here?” He glanced about.

“I haven’t seen her. Don’t now, either. You’d better go.”

I nodded. As I turned away, I saw a half-familiar face off to my right.

She was tall and dark-eyed, shifting from a swirl of multicolored jewels to a swaying flowerlike form, and she had been staring at me. I had been trying to recall her name earlier, and had failed. Seeing her brought it back, though. I approached her.

“I have to leave for a time,” I said. “But I wanted to say hello, Gilva.”

“You do remember. I was wondering.”

“Of course.”

“How are you, Merlin?”

I sighed. She smiled her way into furry, half-human solidity.

“Me, too,” she said. “I’ll be so glad when this is all settled.”

“Yes. Listen, I want to see you for several reasons. When would be a good time?”

“Why, anytime after the funeral, I guess. What about?”

“No time now. Mandor’s giving me angry looks. See you later.”

“Yes. Later, Merlin.”

I hurried back to Jurt and caught him by the elbow. “We’re ordered to leave,” I said. “Security reasons.”

“All right.” He turned to the man he’d been talking with. “Thanks. I’ll see you later,” he told him.

The world slipped away. A new one dawned: Jurt’s apartment, our clothes strewn about it.

“Good timing for us. Bad for Tmer,” he remarked.

“True.”

“How’s it feel to be number two?” he asked as we changed again-both clothing and form.

“It advances your case, too,” I said.

“I’ve a feeling he died on your account, brother, not mine.”

“I hope not,” I said.

He laughed.

“It’s between Tubble and you.”

“If it were, I’d be dead already,” I said. “If you’re right, it’s really between Sawall and Chanicut.”

“Wouldn’t it be funny, Merlin, if I were sticking with you because it’s the safest place to be just now?” he asked. “I’m sure our guards and assassins are better than Chanicut’s. Supposing I’m just waiting, saving my final effort till Tubble’s out of the way? Then, trusting me and all, you turn your back-Coronation!“

I looked at him. He was smiling, but he also seemed to be studying me.

I was about to say, “You can have it, without the trouble,” in a joking way. But I wondered just then: Even in jest, if it were a choice between the two of us … It occurred to me that if we were the only options, this was a circumstance under which I’d agree to take the throne. I’d resolved to give him the benefit of the doubt, to meet him more than halfway. But I couldn’t help it. For all his conciliatory talk and apparent cooperation, a lifelong habit is a hard thing to break. I couldn’t bring myself to trust him anymore than I had to.

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Categories: Zelazny, Roger
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