Post-Yule Blues
Late-December, 2008
So this is Caroline.
"Yours, I think," Lucius said, as he brought me through. I looked around and recognised Matthew's office in Antilla Palace, "I found her trying to get onto E1. She said it was her home."
In front of me, staring at Matthew as if she'd seen a ghost, was a young woman in her early-20s. She stood maybe 5'4", and quite lightly built, although I could see something of the athlete in the musculature and the way she moved. Her long hair was dark brown, and about half-way down her waist, but I saw red when she moved her head in a certain way. She looked confused, scared and angry, and the focus of her anger just then was Matthew. She kept staring at him, saying "You...you", and it was obvious that he didn't have a clue why.
"Caroline, this is Ian," Matthew said, presumably wondering if she was crazy, trying to deflect some of her attention elsewhere, and she turned to look at me, "your father."
Her eyes were darker than mine - a lot darker - and I think if she had been smiling, she'd have been pretty. But she wasn't smiling. She met my gaze coldly.
"So are you another arsehole who assumes I'm going to do what you want, because you tell me it's a good idea?" she demanded, in a decidedly English accent, dripping with the scorn we seem to do so well.
"No," I answered, rather taken aback, "I never assume anything, at least where Family is concerned. Obviously I've missed something."
"This...person. He's taken my home and destroyed everything that he didn't agree with. He's enslaved all the governments, brought back the fascists like Thatcher and Powell, and some of the most corrupt monarchies in history, and seems proud of it."
I looked at her, unsure what to say. Mainly because I kind of agreed with her. There was a lot about how Matthew had changed E1 that I didn't like, and didn't think had needed changing, and had long since stopped believing that the changes were due to Dworkin's lesson plan. They were pure Matthew. But then, while he calls himself a liberal, to me a lot of his views are pretty right wing. Not quite Dieter, but certainly Reagan at his worst. Not that I would have said it to his face quite the way she had.
"Maybe I should take you somewhere else. You might find it less...distressing."
I glanced over at Matthew, and got the impression that he'd be delighted to see the back of her. Lucius was harder to read, as usual.
"Where?" she demanded.
"Somewhere which may be a bit more familiar to you. Not identical to your home, but closer. You look like you need to get your bearings."
She stared at me for a few moments, and then gave a curt nod.
"Matthew, if you could do the honours...?"
He concentrated for a moment, while I pulled out my deck and shuffled out Carmichael's Trump, and then nodded. I placed the call, then took her hand. As I did, I realised she had personal wards up - with both sorcerous and ritual elements. We stepped through to Carmichael, who was in the hall outside my study at Wittersham House, and as we did, I noticed that those wards stayed up. She was obviously aware of the concept of magic of Shadow, so she'd got some training from somewhere.
As we stepped through, I could hear laughter from the direction of the library, and the smell of chocolate and cinnamon was in the air. However the first thing she did was around her, surprised, and something about the way she reacted made me realise that she'd noticed the defences on Wittersham House. They were still stronger than usual, post the procedure I'd had to perform on Lucius at Winter Solstice.
"Thank you, Carmichael," I said, with a smile, "this is Caroline, and I'm reliably informed that she's my daughter."
"Welcome to Wittersham House, Miss Caroline," he answered, politely, but it was obvious that she didn't quite know what to make of him.
"We'll be in my study," I added, trying to ease the discomfort for both of them.
"Very good, sir," he said, with a nod, and headed off down the corridor, while I took my daughter into my office
"What is this place?" she said, finally.
"Shadow-wise, it's part of the Earth Line – that's a group of roughly late-20th and early-21st Century worlds with certain elements of shared history. This one's particular designation is Tenterden, and is where I was born and bred. Geographically, we're about eight miles south-west of Ashford in Kent. Specifically, you're in Wittersham House... my home."
"What date is it?"
"Tuesday 30th December, 2008."
There was a knock at the door.
"Ian?" came Wolf's voice, "Carmichael mentioned that you'd got an unexpected visitor. Is everything okay?"
"Nothing to worry about," I answered.
"Okay. See you in the library."
She listened in silence to his retreating footsteps, before looking at me.
"Who was that?" she demanded, although she seemed to be relaxing as she spoke.
"Wolf...my eldest son."
"My brother?"
"One of."
She crossed to the window and looked out over the drive towards the lake in front of the house, still coated with five-day old snow. I could see her shaking her head...puzzling.
"I feel I should know this place...but I know I've never been here before."
"Maybe there was somewhere similar on E1?"
"No. It wasn't there. It was where I've been living. It was a lot like home...at least, home before it was gutted... but the year was wrong."
"Is it right here?"
"Closer. I left my world in 2011. I ended up in 1980, and was there for something like four years. And when I went back this morning, Lucius said it's now 2017 there. I just can't believe how screwed up the place has got. I was seriously wondering if I'd got the right world."
"Our Family...if we gain control of a place, we can do a lot to influence it. Bend it more to how we want it."
"Do you do that here?"
"A little. Nothing like to the degree Matthew has on E1. We probably have a different history to the one you're used to. Our WWII went a bit differently to many. But that was before I could influence the place."
"So what? The Nazis invaded Britain and won? That's the standard one you find in novels."
"Close...they invaded Britain and lost. Hitler launched Operation Sea Lion in a fit of pique, when he realised the Blitz wasn't making Britain any more likely to surrender, but before the preparations were completed. It didn't go so well for them. However, the peace terms once they were back in Germany allowed for keeping them strong enough to stand up to Communist Russia, which was perceived as the greater threat. As a result, they only ever fought a war on one front at a time, so they didn't destroy themselves the way they do more commonly."
"So they Nazis are still here?"
"And still arguing with Russia, although Communism has pretty much fallen now. They pushed as far east as St Petersburg and got stuck there."
I would probably have carried on, but I clicked out of professor mode when I saw that she'd turned and was staring out the window again.
"I want to go outside," she said, finally.
"It's pretty cold. The temperature hasn't got above freezing for a couple of days."
"I don't care. I want to go outside."
The last thing I wanted to do just then was go for a stroll in the garden, but I spotted the same look of determination I was used to seeing on Wolf's face when he dug his heels in, and bit the bullet and agreed.
"Okay...this way," I said and took her out into the hall. I could still hear the merriment from the direction of the library.
"Who's in there?"
"My wife and our three children," I answered, interested that she didn't seem surprised to learn I was married, "Artur's the eldest...he's probably a little older than you. The twins, who are celebrating their first Yule season. And then there's Wolf and his son, Armand - his other boys are away just now; his step-daughter and her little girl..."
No Tony, of course. He'd headed back to town on the 27th, claiming he had an important deal to complete. Poor Michel. She seemed to have rather a lonely life.
"...and my cousin Aoife. I think that's it unless anyone else has dropped by."
As I looked towards the library door, I saw Ava slinking out through the slight gap, and pad purposefully towards us. I glanced at Caroline, and for the first time I saw her smile.
"She's adorable," she said, ducking down and offering her hand.
"Don't say that too loud, or she'll hear you and get big headed."
Ava came up, sat in front of her and sniffed her hand. Then she cocked her head, first to the left and then to the right, before giving the hand a lick. It was like watching a tiny furry judge making her decision. She extended her head, graciously allowing Caroline to stroke it, before mewing once and heading back towards the library.
"What a funny little thing."
"You get used to her," I answered, with a smile, "she's Wolf's really, but she likes to supervise the rest of us as well. Let me find you a coat."
We headed for the mud room, and I dug out an old jacket of Marina's. It was a bit big on Caroline, but it was better than nothing. Then we went outside through the side door, into the garden. She fell silent as she did a circuit of the house, looking around her intently.
"What is it?"
"The place is right, but the house is wrong. Did there used to be something else on this site?"
"There was an old half-timbered Tudor house here: it was called Wittersham by the Oaks, if I remember rightly. But it burned down about twenty years before I was born. The current house was built around 1890. Why?"
"On the world I was on before I left to try to find my home, I had some friends. They lived in a big country house in Kent. The views are the same here as there, but the building is different."
"Exactly the same?"
"Some of the trees are different, but the line of the hills is pretty much identical."
"What was it called?"
"Oakwood House."
"Who are your friends?"
"The Jordan family. Although the one who took me under his wing was a grandfather by marriage, or something. He used to be in the army...he was a spy of some sort during in the Second World War and retired a Brigadier. His name is John Graham. You remind me of him...but I can't figure out why. I mean, he's, like, in his eighties, although he's pretty well preserved. And yet there's something about you. The eyes maybe."
"I'm sorry. I don't know him, I'm afraid."
She looked disappointed, and glanced out over the garden. As she did, I realised that she was looking directly towards the mock ruin.
"Over that way...there should be a hedge maze."
And she set off striding in that direction. Behind me, I heard the French windows out of the library open, and Wolf came out onto the balustrade.
"What's going on, Mihai?" he asked, coming down to join me as I watched her heading in the direction of the Group's temple, and then he realised where she was going, "Aren't you going to stop her?"
"Wait a moment," I answered, and we crossed the frozen remains of the snow after her, "this could be interesting."
She'd stopped at the boundary, and I could see her taking in the gazebo, and my herb garden and the strange little Oaklet that had pride of place in it. The maze was beyond the ruin on the right. Then I watched her make a gesture that was very familiar to me as seeking permission to enter a sacred space, and she's stepped over the threshold.
"She's one of us..." Wolf said, surprised.
"More than you might have realised," I answered, "that, my friend, is your sister Caroline."
"Oh," he replied, then paused, before adding, "but I thought you'd been told she was working in McDonalds or something on Ancient Earth."
"I had," I replied, as we headed towards the Group temple, "but this morning, she turned up on E1."
"So she's Shadow capable."
"Definitely. And something else, by the look of it. Although I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised. The knack for ritual magic does seem to run in our family."
By then, we had reached the 'doorway', and stepped inside the boundary of the ruin ourselves. As we did she turned towards us, and the wariness came back into her body language as she saw that I wasn't alone.
"Caroline, this is your brother."
"Wolf Ulrich," he said, stepping towards her and offering his hand. She paused, before taking it and shaking cautiously, "I'm pleased to meet you."
"What's all this doing here?" she asked, stepping back as she released his grip, "it's not right. There should be a hedge maze."
"Over there," I replied, indicating in the general direction, although it was partially obscured by one of the higher bits of wall.
"But it should be here, where we're standing. The gazebo should be in the middle of it."
Wolf glanced at me, puzzled.
"Apparently the house and grounds remind her of somewhere else...on Ancient Earth, I'm guessing," I explained to him, then looked back at Caroline, "Shadows can seem similar to each other, but with subtle differences in the details. Here, we have a mock ruin. Obviously there, they have something else."
"But you are witches? Both of you?"
It's not a question I normally get asked by someone I've met exactly once, let alone a question I would normally answer, but on the theory of 'it takes one to know one'...
"I call myself that. Wolf prefers ritualist."
"I'd rather not get burned at the stake," he answered, lightly, but I saw fear come into her face as he did. I heard him curse under his breath in German at her reaction.
"They do that here?" she asked, horrified.
"Caroline...he's joking," I said, trying to reassure her, but the rabbit in headlights look was back.
"I was brought up Catholic," he added, looking directly at her, his expression slightly apologetic, "some of it stuck. Please...don't be afraid. We aren't going to hurt you."
"So she was your Familiar, was she?"
"Excuse me?" Wolf asked, puzzled.
"The little cat..."
"Who, Ava?" he answered, "she's not a Familiar...she's just my pet fur ball."
"But I felt it on her...the magic. Does she talk to you?"
"Of course not," he answered, "she's a cat."
"But I heard her...in my mind. She said 'hello...are you going to feed me'. I said no and she lost interest in me."
"Sounds like Ava," I commented.
"You must have imagined it," he replied, "she's certainly never said anything to me."
"Although you do joke that she seems to understand every word you say," I said to him, lightly.
He looked at me as if I was half crazy, and then an expression of doubt crossed his face, as he actually considered it.
"Who taught you how to ask permission to enter the temple?" I asked her, changing the subject.
"Sir John. But it seemed the right thing to do here, too. I don't understand. The wards are familiar...the feel of this place is familiar...everything about this place ties in with the rites and beliefs of the Oakwood Group. But none of it looks right."
"It sounds to me as if whatever this Oakwood House is, and whoever your Sir John Graham is, they're a very close correlation to Tenterden and our Lyminge Group. Sometimes that happens...places of Power reflect across other Shadows, and as I've learned recently, this world is no exception. Our form of ritual magic has only been worked here since the late-1940s, but when I set the Working area up here, it seemed like the right place to do it."
I glanced over at Wolf, and realised that he was rubbing his arms to keep warm. He'd come outside in nothing but a shirt and jeans. Not that he'd say anything about it. Not in the face of two thin-blooded English types.
Bloody Bavarian bravado.
"It'll be warmer in the gazebo if we want to stay outside," I suggested, "otherwise we can head in."
"I'd rather stay out here," she answered, "I don't think you'd lie to me here, in your temple. Not if this place is really sacred to you."
"I'm not planning on lying to you at all...but I understand that you don't know me from Adam, and it's sensible to be cautious with members of the Family you don't know."
I headed towards the gazebo, and as soon as I opened its protective wards and passed through, I felt much of the chill go. Moreover, the icy breeze that had been blowing in from the Weald didn't have as much bite to it in the 'shelter' of the gazebo. Wolf followed me, and after a few moments, so did Caroline. As she came in, I saw her relax again: I guess the feel of the warding was comforting to her.
"Better?" I asked, gently, as I closed the ward behind her and sat myself down, cross legged on the rug in the centre. It had the traditional Celtic triquetra/triangle/circle design woven into it.
"It really does feel just like the gazebo at Oakwood," she answered, as she and Wolf followed suit, either intentionally or subconsciously spacing themselves evenly from both myself and each other, and I was pleased to see that my son looked rather less chilly, "I don't understand. How could you have set up anything in the 1940s? You aren't old enough."
"I'm older than I look," I answered, "after all, you are my daughter."
"So they say."
"Lucius and Matthew," I explained to Wolf, as I saw his questioning look, then turned back towards Caroline, "I'd heard your name before they ever called me through. A few weeks ago. And I have no reason not to believe it. I was planning to come and find you, but you beat me to it."
"So how old are you?"
"I was born in 1910. Wolf's younger...1936 vintage."
"I very good year, I like to think," he said, lightly, and I saw a trace of a smile on her lips.
"You aren't English..."
"No...German."
"Are you an Nazi?"
Maybe she had been listening after all.
"I've lived in England for a long time," he answered, although I noticed that he didn't exactly answer the question, "Although nowadays I split my time between here and Amber."
"But that's where Eric is..." she stated, immediately wary again.
"What do you know about him?" Wolf asked.
"He murders people."
"A succinct summary," he said, smiling, "okay, then how do you know about him..."
She looked at him, obviously weighing whether she trusted him...either of us...enough to tell us. She obviously wasn't convinced.
"Why should I tell you? If you go to Amber, you're probably on his side. Is that what this is? Are you two going to bundle me up and take me to him?"
"Just who and what do you think we are?" he asked, puzzled.
"I don't know," she answered, and I saw that determined look again
"Eric murdered at least six of my siblings...your aunts and uncles. The only good thing I have to say about him, is that he's long dead, and his bones are rotting at the foot of Kolvir. Now please, we'd like to hear your story."
"What about Amber?"
"Bleys rules there now."
"My grandfather?" she asked, and I nodded in confirmation. She looked at me for a few moments, obviously trying to decide if I was telling the truth, and eventually must have decided that I was.
"Okay...I was on an exchange trip to the US, and got invited to join a Secret Society. I thought it would be a laugh. But it wasn't..."
Then she broke off, looking towards the entrance to the ruin, slightly hazy through the wards.
"What's he doing here?"
I turned around to see a familiar figure wearing a sensible coat, and holding a big air pot - the kind you carry industrial quantities of hot drinks in - in his right hand, a handful of plastic cups in his left, and a warm jumper over his left arm. He saw me looking at him and approached the gazebo, although he stopped just outside the doorway.
"I thought you might appreciate something to warm you up, sir," Carmichael said, politely, as I got to my feed, crossed to the doorway and let him in.
"How did you even know we were out here?"
"I saw you and Miss Caroline going out of the mudroom door, and couldn't help but notice that you didn't return immediately. Then Master Wolf stepped out of the library without a coat."
I took the jumper from him first, throwing it in Wolf's direction. He put it on without a word, but he did smile at Carmichael. Then I took the other burdens from him, the aroma of Mary's special hot chocolate wafting up from the spout of the air pot.
"I'm afraid I didn't have enough hands for a round of gingerbread," he added, apologetically, "Do you want me to go back for some."
"No...this is fine. Thank you. Go back inside and get warm."
"Will you be long? The Mistress was wondering."
"Not sure. But at least you can report that you've seen us and we're alive and well."
"Very good sir."
And with that, he turned and headed back to the house, and I resealed the warding behind him.
"Seriously?" Caroline asked, as she watched his retreating back, "is he for real?"
"Yes, he's very much for real," I answered, sitting back down and putting the air pot beside me, "his family have worked for my family for a very long time. Longer than I've been alive."
"And he's happy with that?"
"As far as I know. Certainly, if he wanted to leave, he could. But I like to think we have a comfortable arrangement."
I poured us each a cup and handed them around. I warmed my hands for a moment, enjoying the combined smell of chocolate, hazelnuts and brandy, and then took a sip. Perfect. Wolf dispatched his cup in short order - he was obviously a lot colder than he'd wanted to admit - and I refilled it for him. Then we both turned our attention back to the young woman in front of us. At least she didn't think that we were trying to poison her, as she did deign to have some of her own chocolate.
"Why don't you continue your story...?" I suggested.
"Well..." she said, after a distinct pause, "There were a whole bunch of people there. All sorts of politicians and businessmen and Fortune 500 types. They said we were all related, and so were they, and that we'd been brought together to prepare us for a great task, which they would help train us for."
"How many of you were there?"
"Seven or eight, I think."
"I wonder how many of them are in the unidentified book in the library," Wolf commented.
"Good question," I answered, then turned back to Caroline, "go on."
"We met a few times, and they kept giving us all these tests. Weird shit like walking through a thorn maze without hurting ourselves. They didn't seem to like my approach to that..."
"What did you do?"
"I told the thorns not to hurt me as I walked. But they said that was cheating and made me go back and do it again."
"So you can make plants do what you want?" I asked, curious.
"Yes...and I can make stuff out of them...you know, healing, remedies, that kind of thing...as well."
"Have you always been able to do that?"
"No...it started after we joined the Society. They put us in coffins having fed us some kind of hallucinogen. Part of the initiation ritual, they said. It was scary, but I stuck it out, and once they let us free, I realised I could do stuff with plants that I couldn't do before. Why?"
"I've learned I can do something similar, relatively recently," I answered, "hence my herb garden..." I indicated in the rough direction of the Oaklet, "although I'm still learning the actual herb lore to go with it: a friend of mine spent six months teaching me during the summer, which has helped a lot. The fact that you can do it too does seem to add credence to you being my daughter."
She considered that for a moment, and at least didn't seem to discount it immediately.
"Sorry. I interrupted you again. Carry on."
"Okay...well...then at one of these meetings, a guy called Bleys showed up. He said that my father's name was really Ian, and that he was my grandfather and the others were his nephews and nieces. He gave us all a pep talk about how Eric was an evil usurper who had murdered our brothers and sisters and had to be stopped, and he was the one to do it. And how we'd been assembled to help him in the war to free Amber from his tyranny. And then, pep talk done, he buggered off again."
Wolf and I exchanged a look which probably had 'sounds like Bleys' all over it.
"So next time, a bunch of other folks came to see us. His brothers and sisters they said. Most of them claimed to be the parent of at least one of us...I was the only one who was a grandchild. And finally one of them, I think his name was Corwin, took us to a dreamlike place in the sky called Tir-na Nog'th. He started telling us how the tests had been designed to show us how to walk the Pattern, so we had a better chance of succeeding than some of his siblings, who apparently didn't make it when they tried. And then he took us down to this silver squiggle on the floor. He didn't want us to do anything with it...just look at it and then we could go home and have more lessons. But by then we'd been doing their stupid tests for weeks. So I just went ahead and stepped on it."
"Sounds like she's your daughter alright," Wolf joked, glancing at me.
"That she does," I answered, smiling, then turned back to Caroline, "so what happened? You obviously survived."
"It was hard...but I knew where to go. And once I'd started, the others did too. I couldn't figure out if that Corwin guy was pleased or not. And then, at the end, it sent me back to the island where we'd had the lessons. The rest of us came back in dribs and drabs over the next few hours - a couple of them even brought a dirty scullery boy with them, who they'd apparently rescued from being abused in Amber...
"Geran?" Wolf said, glancing at me.
"He's never said anything to me about being rescued during Eric's reign..." I answered, "I got the impression he was there for the duration."
I looked over at Caroline again, "Do you know what happened to him?"
"No," she said, "but by then I was well freaked out. The guys who ran the Society had started pressuring us to get involved, as some of us had been seen by people in Amber. And there was also some odd business about someone called Brand, too, and a couple of them wanting to free him from prison..."
She stopped as she saw our surprised expressions.
"Well they did..." she answered, "They'd been told they were his kids. But it seemed like a really bad idea to me, as he sounded like a complete fruit loop, so I Trumped the lady called Fiona and told her."
"Definitely your daughter," Wolf said, amused.
"She does seem to have a lot of the Family traits," I answered, smiling. She stared at me, trying to figure out if I was taking the piss, and I suppose eventually decided I wasn't. "Where did you get the Trump?"
"There were some on the island where we'd been trained. And I knew who she was, because she was one of the ones who'd been to see us."
"Okay."
"And that's where everything gets rather confused. By then, I'd come to the conclusion that with one exception, they were all mad. After all, we were just students. We didn't know anything about wars: especially wars with swords and magic and shit like that. So me and my friend, we formed the Sane Party and ran away. We blundered into Shadow, and lost ourselves in Canada. The mistake we made was that where we found ourselves, it was winter, and it was bloody cold, and we hadn't got anything with us...even coat. So we got on a bus to keep warm, and there was this creepy boy on it. He kept following us around: moving closer to us and asking questions which we didn't want to answer, then getting off when we did and getting on the next bus with us, and so on. We had no idea if he was one of Eric's minions, or one of the crazies, or mentally retarded. And by then we were really freaked out. So we tried to lose him, and eventually ditched him in a shopping mall."
"Matthew?" I asked, and she nodded.
"He didn't even recognise me, earlier...in his office. He said he wouldn't have hurt anyone, but I told him he was weird."
"I bet that went down well," Wolf commented, smiling.
"His brother Lucius said he was weird, too."
"Matthew takes some getting to know," I answered.
"What is he? Some kind of neo-fascist monarchist wannabe?"
Wolf positively spluttered beside me, as he tried to stop himself laughing.
"He's...Matthew," I answered, trying to keep a straight face myself in light of Wolf's fit of the near-giggles and Caroline's incredulous expression.
"So what happened?" she asked, finally, "With the war they tried to drag us into?"
"It was a good one to dodge," I replied, "it got very nasty, very fast, and in the mess that ensued, a Hell of a lot of my generation - the one your college compatriots were part of - ended up dying. Far too many of them were murdered by Eric and his allies. Believe me, you made the right decision. What happened to your friend?"
"He got settled, and set up a start-up technology company. He was a bit of a techie genius, unlike me. We'd ended up in 1980, so what we thought of as day-to-day stuff was really innovative, and he could see the potential for exploiting that. So he buried himself in his company and I went back to England."
"And where did Sir John Graham come in?"
"When I first got back to England, I got a job at the British Museum, and in my lunch hour I would browse the bookshops on Museum Street and Great Russell Street."
"I've done the same," I answered, "they cater for a...specific clientele. People like you, me and Wolf."
"So I was browsing one day, feeling lost and lonely. I was missing my Wiccan sisters from my old life...heck, everything to do with my old life. My parents. My home. I was even wondering if it was safe to try to go back, or whether Eric the Murderer would catch me and kill me. And when I wasn't really concentrating, I bumped into this older guy. He asked me what I was looking for, and before I knew it, he was taking me for a coffee in one of the cafés around there, and I was pouring out my heart to him."
"What was his reaction?" Wolf asked, gently.
"That was the strangest thing of all...he seemed to know."
"About Wicca?"
"He called it the Old Religion, and made it sound as if there was so much more to it...its origins, its rituals, even the gods it reveres...than I'd ever understood before."
"He sounds like an interesting man."
"I learned later that he was the Man in Black for a coven that calls itself the Oakwood Group."
She paused a moment before asking.
"Do you have a Man in Black?"
"Yes. Until about a year ago, I served in that capacity..." I answered, "but I forfeited that about a year ago, since when it's usually been my Second...or Wolf for specific things, like the initiation of his own son in the Summer."
"What did you do?"
"Something which had to be done, but wasn't exactly compatible with our beliefs," I answered, "Since then I've been on...probation, if you will. The Group wanted to be sure that I hadn't surrendered to the Dark, which I can understand. However, hopefully I've proven that they didn't need to worry, and all things being equal, we've been talking about my taking the mantle back at Spring Equinox."
"It must have been pretty serious."
"It was about as far from 'an it harm none, do as ye will' as it could have been. But that's a story for another day. Tell us about Sir John?"
"I met him a couple of times when he was up in London, and having someone who understood was such a relief. For example, the idea that I had come from a different world didn't seem to faze him at all. Eventually he took me down to Kent and introduced me to his friends, the Jordans. They welcomed me and he took me under my wing. It was like having a whole new grandfather. It was as if he had a fundamental understanding of the way things really were, rather than what we see in front of our eyes."
"So why did you leave?" Wolf said, obviously as curious about the mysterious Sir John as I was.
"I got restless, and wished I could go home. He warned me to be careful what I wished for, but he didn't stop me. And he was so right. I eventually found where I thought I'd come from, but I couldn't get inside. And then, today, when Lucius took me through the gate, I was far from sure we were in the right place. So I asked him to take me to see my parents, in Oxford."
"Were they there?" I asked.
"Yes. And I flat out asked my mother about you. She said she thought that you'd died in the war, and even thinking about you seemed to upset her. I got the impression she'd married my step-dad on the rebound after you had left her."
"How did he take that?"
"I didn't ask her when he was there," she answered, looking at me like I was crazy, "how stupid do you think I am?"
She stared at me, almost pouting. It didn't look good on her.
"Not at all," I answered, trying to sound conciliatory, "I'm sorry."
"It didn't help. Once we went back to where Dad and Lucius were waiting, he told her he was your brother...which confused me, as I thought he said he was Matthew's brother..."
"He is," Wolf supplied, "Lucius and Ian share a father. Matthew and Lucius share a mother."
"Gross."
"That's one of the more straightforward sets of parentage," I commented, "you kind of stop letting that bother you after a while, or you spend your entire life shivering over it."
"Ick...creepy..."
I looked at her and shrugged, wondering if she'd carry on that line of thinking or go back to what we were talking about before we dipped a toe in genealogy. It seemed safest to encourage her to continue with her story.
"Go on," I said, after a few moments.
"Anyway, she asked Lucius if you were married. He said you were. She burst into tears and fled out of the room. Dad was beastly to her, and said she was being a stupid hysterical woman, then went after her. At which point Lucius decided we should leave. So he took me somewhere called Antilla..."
"Which is where I came into the picture."
"Uh huh."
"We've asked you a lot of questions..." I said, and saw her nod, at which point I guessed it was time for quid pro quo; so I took a deep breath, and then took the plunge. "Is there anything you want to ask us?"
"Are you really my father? My biological father?"
"I could probably confirm it pretty easily if you wanted me to. Here and now if needs be."
"And you were born and bred here in Kent?"
"My family split their time between here and London, but basically yes."
"So why is Wolf German?"
"Ian spent some time in Germany as a student," my son offered, "he met Mama while he was there."
"And what? Got her pregnant and left? Like he did mine?"
I felt myself wince mentally. Gods I must seem like an uncaring bastard.
"It was a lot less clinical than that," Wolf answered, gently, "he didn't get a chance to stay. In fact very much the opposite. He got warned off in no uncertain terms."
"Married, was she?"
"Not that I knew when I met her," I answered, "but yes, it turned out she was."
"Maybe he didn't get a chance to stay with your mother either," Wolf offered, "What's her name?"
"Adrianne."
I thought for a moment or two, and then the image of a pretty blonde woman came to mind. I'd met her in my travelling days, after I'd walked the Pattern. It had been on one of the worlds somewhere between the Earth Line and the Nelson Line. I'd found the place when I was studying alternative histories, and it was a fascinating one from that point of view so I decided to stay a while. Britain had won the War of 1776, so the Americas remained colonial possessions, and as a result, the surge of feeling which had led to the French Revolution in a more standard timeline hadn't been as effective. That, in turn, had meant that the Napoleonic Wars had gone in a very different direction. I'd been there in around 1900, when the Bourbon Monarchy was finally crumbling under its own inertia, and trouble was brewing
I'd met Adrianne at a salon held by one of the noble ladies who loved to patronise the arts. She'd been an artist - watercolours mainly - and I'd written a few freelance articles for one of the Parisian periodicals. As I pictured her in my mind, for the first time in years, I realised that she was almost certainly Flora's daughter, something I hadn't seen at the time as I didn't know the Family as well as I do now. We'd taken to each other at once. Reality attracts, I suppose, as it had so often in my life. And no doubt Wolf would have said that she was yet another example of my 'type'. We hadn't lived together, but we had been lovers for about six weeks.
It didn't last. I was walking down a side street in Montmartre one evening, heading for the loft I'd rented on the Rue Francoeur, when I was attacked by a group of half a dozen men. They plunged a knife into my kidneys, stripped me of my wallet and other valuables, had a good go at slitting my throat, and left me to die. Thankfully they hadn't recognised my Trump deck for what it was - it was one of the few things I always carried with me - and I'd managed to get through to Wolf before the blood loss killed me.
I hadn't thought about that incident in years, but now I'd brought it back to mind, I realised the inconsistencies. For starters, I'm good enough in a fight that six men shouldn't have caught me out like that. And for seconds, why the Hell hadn't my wards stopped the blade...
"Ian?" Wolf asked, obviously seeing the look of realisation on my face.
"I remember Adrianne," I answered, then glanced at Wolf, "looking back, I think she may have been Flora's daughter, because she's the spit of our aunt."
"Different. But let me guess. Still blond and blue eyed?"
"So sue me," I said, lightly, then turned back to Caroline, "I liked her."
"So why didn't you stay with her?" Caroline demanded.
"Because someone tried to kill me and I got out the only way I could."
"That time when I was in Edinburgh...?" Wolf asked, as he fitted together his mental timeline, "I ended up calling Adam to get you into the Royal Infirmary with as few questions asked as possible. I ended up notifying myself if I remember rightly."
"You were a serving officer of the Lothian and Borders Police," I answered, "you know, I'd always put that one down to bad luck, but now I think about it, I'm not so sure. Twenty/twenty hindsight is a wonderful thing. Thinking through the timing, Oberon was probably missing by then, and Eric was making his move, so maybe the whole thing was planned. After all, I had no idea that walking Shadow alone was a bad idea - Bleys disappeared before he shared that with me - so I was probably bloody lucky that Eric's and Caine's minions didn't catch me."
"But you never went back for Mum?" Caroline accused.
"Actually, I did," I replied, "after I recovered. But when I got to her apartment - if I remember, it was just off the Faubourg St Honoré - she'd gone. No forwarding address. No way to find her. So I collected up my things from my loft, and went on my way."
"If Adrianne found out you'd been attacked, it would explain why she thought you were dead," Wolf commented, "and specifically that you'd died in the war."
"So where did she go?" Caroline asked, slightly less hostile now.
"My guess? She contacted her mother and was relocated, because the world she'd been on wasn't safe anymore."
"And she ended up on what became E1?" Wolf pondered.
"It looks like it," I answered, "Where she met...what did you say your step-father was called?"
"I didn't. But if you must know, it's Peter."
"Okay. So my guess is that she met Peter, and settled down with him, so you would have a father. What else do you want to know?"
"Is Eric really dead?" she asked.
"Eric, Pretender of Amber, is very, very dead," I answered, "and Bleys is sitting on the Amber throne."
"And yet I sense a but..." she commented, and I saw Wolf smile approvingly beside me.
"I assume you believe in reincarnation?" I continued, "If you follow our tradition?"
"Yes."
"His soul is back, taking another turn on the wheel. We know who he is, and what he looks like, but not where he is. However, when we find him, we intend to make sure he doesn't stay that way."
"How did he die?" she asked, her expression neutral, not giving away any opinion on what I'd just said.
"In battle, in the end," Wolf supplied, "even though, if there had been any justice in the universe, he would have had his throat slit in a dark alley."
"So Bleys was successful? We ran away for nothing?"
"This is where time oddities come in," I answered, "more time has passed here and in Amber than I think has passed for you. That first rebellion, the one they tried to drag you into, failed. Bleys and Corwin got an army all the way to Amber, but by the time they did, it was too weak to take the place. Bleys fell off Kolvir, and Corwin got captured and blinded."
"But..."
"It was the first stage in a bigger war, which in the end came down to Amber and Chaos, its ancient frenemy..."
"Frenemy?"
"Most of us have Chaos Blood," Wolf offered, "Helgram and Swayvillian in Ian's case. To which I add Hendrake through my maternal grandfather's line, and you would from Flora, if she is your grandmother, as Ian suggested. Oberon, the previous King, knew that, and tried to keep things in balance. But certain of his queens made things difficult, and then he disappeared without a world. Eric eventually stepped into the breach. It didn't go well.
Official Amber-Chaos relations reached their absolute lowest during Eric's Regency and subsequent Usurpation. During that time, those of us with mixed blood were the primary targets for Eric's purges, and a Hell of a lot of us died. However, the redheads - Fiona, Bleys and Brand - managed to stay on good terms with their Helgram relatives. Somehow Bleys survived his fall - I think he managed to jump out to Fiona - and they allied with Chaos to get rid of Eric. Initially Brand was with them, although in the end that fell apart as his ambitions and theirs went in different directions, and he damaged to the Pattern of Amber to pursue his own agenda."
"Hence the whole jail thing?"
"Exactly. And so it came down to a battle between Amber and Chaos at the foot of Kolvir. Eric died, Corwin..."
"You said he was blinded..."
"He got better," I said, with a shrug, "we heal really well, if we aren't killed outright."
Then I glanced over at Wolf and let him continue.
"Corwin took the throne temporarily, until Oberon showed up again and reclaimed it. At which point the war was taken to Chaos, while Oberon tried to fix the Pattern. Bleys made his continued existence known by being heroic in the battle, which is pretty typical for him, but by then Oberon had died. Leaving the whole succession issue to be sorted out. Corwin didn't want it, and it got pretty nasty, but in the end we voted Bleys into the job."
"Voted? Seriously?"
"Oberon's stipulation was that if he died, then our great-grandfather, Dworkin; and our patron beast, the Unicorn; would get to choose the new King. But if they couldn't agree, it would come to a vote of the Family. The Unicorn choose a homicidal little maniac called Random, but Dworkin disagreed. After all, we'd already had one homicidal King, and we're still repairing the damage he did. Random pressed his claim by starting a civil war in Amber, which managed to turn the rest of us against him. At which point it came down to a vote. The candidates were Gérard, who had been Oberon's Regent in Amber during the war, but who was tarnished by being the son of the queen who really buggered up Amber-Chaos relations; and Bleys. Bleys won by one vote."
"So in the end he got what he wanted by politics rather than combat?" she asked.
"And no-one was more surprised than him," I answered.
She sat in silence for a while, warming her hands on her cup and drinking slowly. Processing what we'd said, I suppose. Outside the gazebo, it was quiet except for the birds singing as evening drew in - there's a particularly talkative skylark who seems to have adopted my little Oaklet as his own, although she occasionally ends up arguing with our resident robins for perching rights. Even the usual sound of distant traffic was faded to nothing by the warding around the gazebo.
"So what happens now?" she said, finally.
"That's completely up to you," I replied, "and you don't have to make a decision here and now. You're welcome to stay here for a few days and think it over. Quite a lot of my immediate family are here for New Year, so if you felt like it, it would give you and them a chance to get to know each other. And it would give you and I a chance to get to know each other, as well...so you can make up your mind a bit about me."
"And if I don't want to stay? What are my options?"
"First, With Matthew's agreement, you could go back to E1 and your parents..."
"To what? The world I knew is gone, and what's left is a twisted shell. I never want to go back there again."
As she said it, I found myself feeling incredibly sorry for her. I'm not sure what I'd do if someone screwed over Tenterden while I was absent, and I came home to a world that was virtually unrecognisable. No wonder I probably wasn't seeing her at her best.
"Okay. Then second, I can take you back to Ancient Earth. Unless you told him where you were going, I imagine your friend, Sir John, is worried about you. And I'd be curious to meet him."
"I don't know what he'd think of you."
"Neither do I...but it sounds like he and I would have things to talk about. What with our comparative traditions, and what we did during the War."
"You fought?"
"I was in the SOE."
She looked incredulous for a few seconds, and then remembered what we'd talked about earlier.
"Because you're older than you look..."
"Exactly," I answered.
"Any other options?"
"I could take you to Amber...I should probably do that anyway, thinking about it, so Bleys knows about you. If you've walked the Pattern officially, and get into the Family deck, you gain a certain amount of safety from being recognised..."
Wolf harrumphed beside me.
"Armand is better protected now by being more visible, and the fact that Bleys has made it perfectly clear what he intends to do to anyone who might do either you or him harm," I commented to him, "that wouldn't be true if you hadn't taken him to Amber, even if the trip itself went to Hell in a handcart."
He looked at me, obviously debating whether to argue, and then shrugged.
"Perhaps," he conceded, unwillingly.
"Is that it?" Caroline asked, obviously worried by Wolf's reaction.
"The last option is you can always just head off and explore Shadow on your own. Heck, it sounds like you've been doing that to a degree anyway. My only warning is that if you choose to do the latter, you need to be careful."
"We have a lot of enemies out there," Wolf elaborated, "from crazy ritual cults, to dwarves with a penchant for kidnapping, to homicidal uncles and their mothers who think anyone with Chaos blood should be burned at the stake, to men who would be King."
"So why would they care about me?"
"You're the granddaughter of the King of Amber - especially if you take Ian's advice and actually visit the place."
"Which you don't think I should. That was obvious."
"I think it's something which shouldn't be done lightly," Wolf answered, "But it may be that you would benefit from doing it. The obvious pro is that you'd get to see the place in a somewhat less hostile environment than at most points in its recent history, and you would probably be recognised, at least to a degree. Bleys is generous to his kin...some would say too generous...but as someone who has undeniably benefited from that, I can't offer an unbiased opinion. And if you walked the Pattern, you would appear in the Family Trump deck, so you could be reached.
The cons. You'd be known, and therefore his enemies might consider targeting you. And if you walked the Pattern, you would appear in the Family Trump deck, so you could be reached."
"You said that was a pro..."
"It's both," I admitted, "anonymity has its benefits; so does visibility. Trumps are very useful for keeping in touch with other people - me, or Wolf, or anyone else you might meet. But they are also a vulnerability. Someone with a particularly strong mind may be able to attack you through them."
"I've had some training on how to protect myself against things like that," she answered, "both from my original teachers, and from Sir John."
"That's good. And if you feel you want more, I'd be happy to provide it."
"So what do you think I should do?"
"I can't decide that for you," I replied, "but there's no need for you to hurry your decision, so you can take your time. You don't have to do anything or go anywhere, with the possible exception of just letting your friend Sir John know you're okay."
"Could I reach him from here on the Second Road?"
"I actually have no idea," I answered, "I've not tried to seek off Shadow astrally. My guess would be no, though, as this place is quite well defended."
"Then I'd like to go and see him."
"I can arrange it for you. And as I said, I'd like to meet him. Other than that..."
I glanced outside, and realised that I could see the sunset.
"You know, if you're feeling a bit less uncomfortable, then we should probably head inside. It's getting dark, and I can already feel the temperature dropping."
She thought for a moment, then nodded, and we began to get to our feet. I stacked the cups in each other, while Wolf grabbed the air pot, now rather lighter than it had been. Then I crossed to the door and released the warding on the gazebo entrance.
I paused for a moment, looking back to see if she was following and was pleased to see that she was, and once we were all outside, we headed back out of the ruins towards the house. The lights looked warm and comforting in the gathering gloom, and I smiled as I heard the sound of friendly chatter through the French windows.