“Yes,” I said. “Thank you.”
“I understand that she did finally walk the Pattern.”
“Yes, she succeeded in that.”
“And afterward declared herself an enemy of Amber.”
“That, too.”
“I hope,” he said, “that she comes to no harm from all this. She was kind to me.”
“She seems quite able to take care of herself,” I said. “But . . . yes, she is a likable girl. I cannot promise you anything concerning her safety, because I still know so little about her, so little of her part in everything that is going on. Yet, what you have told me has been helpful. It makes her someone I would still like to grant doubt’s benefit, as far as I can.”
He smiled.
“I am glad to hear that.”
I shrugged.
“What are you going to do now?” I asked.
“I am taking him to see Vialle,” Random said, “and then to meet the others, as time and opportunity permit. Unless, of course, something new has developed and you need me now.”
“There have been new developments,” I said, “but I do not really need you now. I had better bring you up to date, though. I still have a little time.”
As I filled Random in on events since his departure, I thought about Martin. He was still an unknown quantity so far as I was concerned. His story might be perfectly true. In fact, I felt that it was. On the other hand, I had a feeling that it was not complete, that he was intentionally leaving something out. Maybe something harmless. Then again, maybe not. He had no real reason to love us. Quite the contrary. And Random could be bringing home a Trojan Horse. Probably though, it was nothing like that. It is just that I never trust anyone if there is an alternative available.
Still, nothing that I was telling Random could really be used against us, and I strongly doubted that Martin could do us much damage if that was his intention. No, more likely he was being as cagey as the rest of us, and for pretty much the same reasons: fear and self preservation. On a sudden inspiration, I asked him, “Did you ever run into Dara again after that?”
He flushed.
“No,” he said, too quickly.
“Just that time. That’s all.”
“I see,” I said, and Random was too good a poker player not to have noticed; so I had just bought us a piece of instant insurance at the small price of putting a father on guard against his long-lost son.
I quickly shifted our talk back to Brand. It was while we were comparing notes on psychopathology that I felt the tiny tingle and the sense of presence which heralds a Trump contact. I raised my hand and turned aside.
In a moment the contact was clear and Ganelon and I regarded one another.
“Corwin,” he said, “I decided it was time to check. By now, you have the Jewel, Brand has the Jewel, or you are both still looking. Which one is it?”
“Brand has the Jewel,” I said.
“More’s the pity,” he said. “Tell me about it.”
So I did.
“Then Gerard had the story right,” he said.
“He’s already told you all this?”
“Not in such detail,” Ganelon replied, “and I wanted to be sure I was getting it straight. I just finished speaking with him.”
He glanced upward.
“It would seem you had best be moving then, if my memories of moonrise serve me right.”
I nodded.
“Yes, I will be heading for the stairway shortly. It is not all that far from here.”
“Good. Now here is what you must be ready to do-“
“I know what I have to do,” I said. “I have to get up to Tir-na Nog’th before Brand does and block his way to the Pattern. Failing that, I have to chase him through it again.”
“That is not the way to go about it,” he said.
“You have a better idea?”
“Yes, I do. You have your Trumps with you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. First, you would not be able to get up there in time to block his way to the Pattern-“