To Rule in Amber (3 page)

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Authors: John Gregory Betancourt,Roger Zelazny

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: To Rule in Amber
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I seized on that idea:
make him understand
. If I could make him see his own grim predicament… or shut up for a minute to let me explain it… maybe that would be enough.

"Let in -" I began.

"Assassin!"

"Le -"

"
Murderer
!"

"- me explai -"

"Traitor!"

"- it to you!"

"Oath-breaker!"

I paused. The abuse didn't stop for a second.

A human being who talked and screamed and shouted non-stop would rapidly lose his voice.

What about a tree? I didn't know. But I intended to find out.

"Liege-killer!"

"Uh-huh," I said. "Tell me about it."

And he did, calling me every sort of vile name imaginable - and some I never would have imagined. Through it all I just stood there and nodded, smiling now and again, making encouraging noises at all the right places. Maybe all he needed was time to talk himself hoarse.

Well, let him! His words couldn't hurt me.

Finally, as he began to repeat himself, I decided to take a rest. I sat beneath its spreading branches, stretched out my legs, and gave a wide yawn. Wriggling my back, I found a comfortable spot against the trunk, leaned back, and shut my eyes.

Abruptly the abuse stopped. I opened one eye.

"Go on," I said. "Don't stop."

"What are you doing?" he cried.

"Taking a nap."

"Stop it! Murderer!
Help me, someone
!"

"Go on," I said sarcastically. "I love the sound of your voice."

If anything, that seemed to enrage him. He screamed, shouted, threatened, and insulted me time and again.

Despite the constant stream of abuse, it actually
did
feel nice to relax. I could even fall asleep here…

Closing my eyes again, I pretended to snore.

After ten minutes, the cursing and name-calling came to a stop. Now the tree muttered the vilest of threats under its breath, promises to disembowel, behead, and boil me in oil - sometimes all at once.

Minor progress, but progress nonetheless. I continued to snore.

The muttering lasted another ten minutes or so. At last it grew silent. Had I outlasted it? Had its murderous rage finally passed? Would it talk civilly to me now?

Cautiously opening one eye, I peeked up at King Elnar's face. He stared down at me, frowning severely.

"Don't stop," I said with a chuckle. "The music of your voice soothes my sleep."

"What are you doing?" it demanded.

"Resting."

"Why?"

"I felt like it."

"Traitor!"

"Scream all you want," I said, folding my arms behind my head and closing my eyes. "It doesn't bother me a bit."

"Why not?"

"We're far from Ilerium. I don't have to worry about hell-creatures finding and killing me here."

"Why not?"

"It's just you and me, old friend. No one can hear you, so go ahead! Scream all you want! Curse.

Call me names. It doesn't bother me. No one can hear you. After all, we're alone in this world."

"I don't believe you."

"And I don't care." I closed my eyes. This time, I almost
did
fall asleep.

When at last it spoke again, suspicion hardened its voice. "What do you mean, alone?"

"We aren't in Ilerium anymore, old friend. We're in a new world… an empty world. No people.

No hell-creatures. Just you and me. And you're a tree."

"You're a liar!"

I actually laughed. "I wish I had a looking-glass. You're not even a tree - you're a face stuck
in
a tree. Now that's funny! King of Shrubbery, I'll call you!"

"Liar!"

"Shrub!"

When it didn't reply, I squinted critically up at the twisted, gnarled trunk. Had my words finally sunk in?

"You're not even a very good looking tree," I went on. Why not add insult to injury? "You're lucky I don't have an axe. I have a feeling you'd make better kindling than anything else."

"Liar! Liar!"

"Don't you believe me?" I streched one arm up, caught a low-hanging branch, and broke off a handful of leaves with a twist of my wrist.

"Ow!" it cried.

"Look! You really
are
a tree, whether you want to admit it or not!"

"That hurt!"

"What hurt?" I demanded.

"My… my leaves?" A horror-struck look came over the face, as it realized what it had said.

Leaves.
Its
leaves.

I smiled grimly.

"That's right, Your Highness," I said. "As I already told you, you're a tree now, complete with roots, trunk, branches, and quite a nice bunch of
leaves
. Everything I've said to you has been the truth."

Casually, I reached up and snapped off a small branch just above my head. I got a shriek in return.

"See?"

"Stop that!"

Perhaps I'd found the negotiating tactic I needed.

I said, "You need to keep a civil tongue, O King of Shrubbery. Set a good example for your people." I nodded to one side. "The blackberry bushes over there are watching, after all."

"Do not mock me, traitor!"

"Why not? It's fun."

"
Woe
!" cried King Elnar's voice. "I am lost! I am a tree, and I am lost!"

"Be quiet," I said, reaching for another branch, "or I will have to do a fair amount of pruning…"

The face closed its mouth with a snap. The silence seemed unexpected - almost unnatural. If it

had enough sense left for self-preservation, what else might it be capable of? Maybe more of King Elnar remained than I had dared to hope.

Slowly I lowered my arm.

"If you're going to be reasonable," I said calmly, "we can work things out between us."

"You are trying to trick me!"

"Why would I do that?"

"I… I don't know. But you will! That's what traitors and murderers do!"

"Here's a thought. Maybe I won't trick you. I have no reason to, after all. And I'm neither a traitor nor a murderer. Don't call me that."

"But -"

"But nothing! Everything I've told you has been the truth. You really
are
a face stuck in a tree.

Hell-creatures killed you, not me. They put those words in your mouth and made you say them. The man I knew, the man you once were, would never have believed their lies. We fought them together, side by side."

The face and I stared at one another. I didn't know what else to add; apparently, neither did he.

We had reached an impasse. At least he had stopped yelling and calling me names.

Then a bird flew past, twittering loudly. I sat up, startled. A bird - the first animal I had yet seen in this world! It seemed the unicorns had left more than mere greenery and magical trees in their wake. I watched the bird land twenty feet away. It picked up a piece of grass, then flew to a nearby tree, where it seemed to be building a nest. If this world had animals, what else might there be? Perhaps… people?

Rising, I turned slowly, searching for any sign of civilization - houses, smoke from cooking fires, anything that spoke of a human presence. My gaze lingered a long time in the direction the unicorns had gone.

A perfect stream, surrounded by cattails and thick green reeds, burbled happily through the picturesque little valley. Iridescent dragonflies buzzed over the water, and a frog hopped from the bank into a blue-green pool with an audible splash.

"What are you looking for?" asked the tree.

"Shh!" I held up one hand for silence. Something felt subtly different…

Stealthy movement caught my eye. A single white unicorn moved with dainty steps from a copse of trees beyond the stream, lowered her head, and drank deeply from the frog's pool. She had something around her neck… something that looked like a giant ruby on a chain.

I gaped. It had to be the jewel my father had shown me in Juniper… the one he used to trace the new Pattern. This unicorn had to be the one that had helped Dad and me.

When she raised her head and she saw me staring at her, she stamped her right forefoot and tossed her head. I took a step in her direction. As I did, she turned and slipped into the trees. There she paused long enough to glance over her shoulder.

Follow me
, she seemed to be saying.
Follow me to your destiny
.

Three

"All right," I called. "I can take a hint. I'm coming!"

I started after her.

"Do not leave me!" cried the tree.

"What?" I demanded, looking back in surprise. "I thought you couldn't wait to be rid of me!"

"… Please?"

I hesitated. King Elnar might be dead, but my sense of duty remained. Almost reluctantly, I turned back to the tree. That unicorn could wait another minute.

"What is it you want from me?" I said.

"I… I think I know you."

"You'd better, after all those accusations you made." Then I paused, as a horrible suspicion bubbled up inside me - what if he really
didn't
know me? I had to ask: "What's my name?"

"I think… Ar… Orl… Erlock?"

"You called me Obere," I said gently. "But my real name is Oberon."

"Obere… Oberon… yes. Yes, that sounds right. I
know
you. Obere. Oberon."

"What happened in Kingstown? Do you remember?"

"I… cannot remember. You said I was a tree. But I think I used to be a man. Was I a man?"

"Yes, long ago," I said. The hell-creatures had done their work well if he couldn't remember such simple details. Everything he had said, everything he had done since his death, must have been due to their foul magics. Only now had he begun to recover.

I went on. "Do you remember anything about me? Do you remember fighting hell-creatures in Ilerium? Do you remember anything more of your old life?"

It gnashed its wooden teeth, but made no reply. Apparently it didn't remember. Considering how I'd destroyed King Elnar's head the last time we met, the tree's lack of memory probably shouldn't have surprised me. With his brains scattered across a battlefield on another Shadow, how could he remember much of anything?

"Do you know your own name?" I asked. If I pressed him for information, perhaps he would recall more.

"Ev… Agg… Ygg… ?"

"You don't remember," I said sadly. I had hoped, for a moment, that more of King Elnar remained. "Do you recall anything of your days as a man? Do you remember your kingdom?"

"So much darkness…" it whispered. "Shadows fill my mind… there is nothing left…"

"
Think
!" I cried.

It gave a sob. "I cannot! My memories are gone! I cannot recall anything before I awoke here!"

I glanced at the unicorn. She stamped her feet impatiently and slipped into the trees. Time to go.

She wanted me to follow.

Hurriedly, I said, "I have to leave. If you'll talk to me instead of calling me names, I promise I'll return when I can."

"I agree… Oberon."

"Thank you, old friend."

Giving it a brief salute, I took a deep breath and faced the stream again. Snorting, the unicorn moved farther into the trees, dark gray on black beneath a canopy of leaves, drifting away. The reddish glint of her eyes seemed almost catlike as she watched me now. I knew she hadn't enjoyed waiting, but after all, she and her kind had brought King Elnar back; what could I do?

Briskly I hiked after her, splashing across the stream and entering the cool, moist-smelling forest.

No birds sang here, nor did any insects chirp or buzz or wing through the air. Each leaf, mushroom, and splay of sunlight filtering down through the treetops took on a special sharpness, as though each line had been carefully etched with a needle-sharp tool. We were cutting across Shadows, through world after world after world. The air almost sang with power.

When I reached the spot where she had been standing, a faint flash of white, ahead and to the left, drew me farther into the trees. The faintest of trails wound among the ancient oaks and pines, skirting rocks, twisting and climbing into low hills.

So it went. Over the next half hour, she lead me through the forest, then into grassy hills dotted with the round shoulders of ancient boulders. We crossed lush but empty valleys where wind sang a single mournful note, and then again entered a long stretch of primal forest where a peaceful, hush hung over everything. I could not tell if we were traveling through Shadows, but I didn't think so.

Finally, we pushed through a thick hedge and entered a broad clearing. Here, in its center, on top of a huge stone slab that must have been a hundred and fifty feet wide, shone the Pattern that my father had inscribed with his own blood. It glowed with a clear bluish-white light, cold and beautiful… more beautiful than the last Pattern, perfect this time in every way.

Slowly I approached it. Waves of energy came off its sleek lines, humming deep inside me. It felt
good
. Strange, unlike anything else, but good.

I basked at its edge, eyes shut, just
feeling
its nearness. Warm all over, strong and more alive

than I had ever felt before, I might have stood there for days had a snorting bark of sound not jarred me from my half-sleep.

The unicorn
. It still wanted something. Almost reluctantly, I forced my eyes open.

As my gaze swept across the length of the Pattern, searching for her, I noticed a curious lump in the exact middle. Aesthetically, it didn't belong. I stared at it, puzzling, and slowly realized it was the body of a man. Dark shirt and pants, graying hair… my father?

Panic surged through me. The longer I stared, the more certain I became. It had to be him.

"Dad?" I called, taking a step forward. "Are you all right? Can you hear me?
Dad
!"

He didn't so much as stir. How had he gotten there? I'd watched him disappear after creating the Pattern, teleported off to gods knew where. Why had he returned? Had he left something undone and returned to finish, only to be attacked? Or had he been hurt somewhere else and fled here for safety?

Or maybe it wasn't him.

Swallowing hard, I drew up short. Considering how powerful our enemies seemed to be, this might be a trap of some kind.

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