“I am attuned to the Jewel,” I said.
“How?” he asked, halting.
Wixer made a cackling noise behind us, and we resumed walking.
“I followed your written instructions-and Eric’s verbal ones,” I said. “I took it with me to the center of the Pattern and projected myself through it.”
“I see,” he said. “How did you obtain it?”
“From Eric, on his deathbed.”
We entered the cave.
“You have it now?”
“I was forced to cache it in a place off in Shadow.”
“I would suggest you retrieve it quickly and bring it here or take it back to the palace. It is best kept near the center of things.”
“Why is that?”
“It tends to have a distorting effect on shadows if it lies too long among them.”
“Distorting? In what fashion?”
“There is no way to tell, in advance. It depends entirely upon the locale.”
We rounded a corner, continued on back through the gloom.
“What does it mean,” I said, “when you are wearing the Jewel and everything begins to slow down about you? Fiona warned me that this was dangerous, but she was not certain why.”
“It means that you have reached the bounds of your own existence, that your energies will shortly be exhausted, that you will die unless you do something quickly.”
“What is that?”
“Begin to draw power from the Pattern itself-the primal Pattern within the Jewel.”
“How is this achieved?”
“You must surrender to it, release yourself, blot out your identity, erase the bounds which separate you from everything else.”
“It sounds easier said than done.”
“But it can be done, and it is the only way.”
I shook my head. We moved on, coming at last to the big door. Dworkin extinguished the staff and leaned it against the wall. We entered and he secured the door. Wixer had stationed himself just outside.
“You will have to leave now,” Dworkin said.
“But there are many more things that I must ask you, and some that I would like to tell you.”
“My thoughts grow meaningless, and your words would be wasted. Tomorrow night, or the next, or the next. Hurry! Go!”
“Why the rush?”