“Ah! That fragile, perishable item-the truth,” she said. “When it surfaces so quickly there is usually a claustrophobia of circumstance. What is it that you want of me?”
I held my smile.
“It is good to appreciate circumstance,” I said.
“I appreciate the fact that I am in Amber and alive and not occupying a cell, with two gentlemen behaving in a conciliatory fashion. I also appreciate the fact that I am not in the straits my most recent memories indicate I should occupy. And I have you to thank for my deliverance?”
“Yes.”
“Somehow I doubt it was a matter of altruism on your part.”
“I did it for Rinaldo. He tried getting you out once and got clobbered. Then I figured a way that might work, and I tried it. It did.”
Her facial muscles tightened at the mention of her son’s name. I’d decided she’d prefer hearing the one she’d given him, rather than “Luke.”
“Is he all right?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, hoping it were so.
“Then why is he not present?”
“He’s off somewhere with Dalt. I’m not sure as to his location. But-“
Nayda made a small noise just then, and we glanced her way. But she did not stir. Mandor gave me an inquiring look, but I shook my head slightly. I did not want her roused just then.
“Bad influence, that barbarian,” Jasra observed, choking again and taking another drink. “I’d so wanted Rinaldo to acquire more of the courtly graces, rather than doing rude things on horseback much of the time,” she continued, glancing at Mandor and granting him a small smile. “In this, I was disappointed. Do you have s something stronger than water?”
“Yes,” I replied, and I uncorked a bottle of wine and poured some into a goblet for her. I glanced at Mandor and at the bottle then, but he shook his head. “But you have to admit he did well in that track meet against UCLA, in his sophomore year,” I said, not to let her put him down completely. “A certain amount of that comes from the more vigorous side of life.”
She smiled as she accepted the drink.
“Yes. He broke a world record that day. I can still see him passing over the final hurdle.”
“You were there?”
“Oh, yes. I attended all of your meets. I even watched you run,” she said. “Not bad.”
She sipped the wine.
“Would you like me to send for a meal for you?” I asked.
“No, I’m not really hungry. We were talking about truth a little while ago…”
“So we were. I gather there had been some sorcerous exchange back at the Keep, between you and Mask-“
“Mask?” she said.
“The blue-masked sorcerer who rules there now.”
“Oh, yes. Quite.”
“I do have the story right, don’t I?”
“Yes, but the encounter was more than a little traumatic. Forgive my hesitation. I was surprised and did not get my defenses up in time. That was really all there was to it. It will not happen again.”
“I’m sure. But-“
“Did you spirit me away?” she interrupted. “Or did you actually fight with Mask to get me free?”
“We fought,” I said.
“In what condition did you leave Mask?”
“Buried under a pile of manure,” I said.
She chuckled.
“Wonderful! I like a man with a sense of humor.”
“I have to go back,” I added.
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Because Mask is now allied with an enemy of mine – man named Jurt, who desires my death.”
She shrugged slightly.
“If Mask is no match for you, I fail to see where Mask and this man should represent a great problem.”
Mandor cleared his throat.
“Begging your leave,” he said. “But Jurt is a shape shifter and minor sorcerer from the Courts. He also has power over Shadow.”
“I suppose that would make something of a difference,” she said.
“Not as much as what the two of them apparently plan to accomplish,” I told her. “I believe that Mask intends running Jurt through the same ritual your late husband undertook-something involving the Fount of Power.”
“No!” she cried, and she was on her feet, the rest of the wine mixing with Nayda’s spittle and a few old bloodstains on the Tabriz I’d purchased for its delicately detailed pastoral scene. “It must not happen again!”