“I thought you said you weren't a sorcerer.”
“I'm not,” she replied.
“I'll save the question. But continue answering the last one. What is the significance of the blue stones?”
“They have an affinity for the cave, and for each other,” she told me. “A person with very little training could hold one of them and simply begin walking, following the slight psychic tugging. It would eventually lead him to the cave.”
“Through Shadow, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Intriguing, but I fail to see any great value to it.”
“But that is not all. Ignore the pull of the cave, and you will become aware of secondary tuggings. Learn to distinguish the signature of the proper stone, and you can follow its bearer anywhere.”
“That does sound a little more useful. Do you think that's how those guys found me last night, because I had a pocket full of the things?”
“Probably, from a practical standpoint, they helped. Actually, though, in your case, they should not even have lien necessary at this point.”
“Why not?”
“They have an additional effect. Anyone who has one in his possession for a time becomes attuned to the thing. Throw it away and the attunement remains. You can still be tracked then, just as if you had retained the stone. You would possess a signature of your own.”
“You mean that even now, without them, I'm marked?”
“Yes.”
“How long does it take to wear off?”
“I am not certain that it ever does.”
“There must be some means of deattunement.”
“I do not know for certain, but I can think of a couple of things that would probably do it.”
“Name them.”
“Walking the Pattern of Amber or negotiating the Logrus of Chaos. They seem almost to break a person apart and do a reassemblement into a purer form. They have been known to purge many strange conditions. As I recall, it was the Pattern that restored your father's memory.”
“Yes-and I won't even ask you how you know about the Logrus you may well be right. As with so much else in life, it seems enough of a pain in the ass to be good for me. So, you think they could be zeroing in on me right now, with or without the stones?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know all this?” I asked.
“I can sense it – and that's an extra question. But I'll give you a free one in the interests of expedition.”
“Thanks. I guess it's your turn now.”
“Julia was seeing an occultist named Victor Melman before she died. Do you know why?”
“She was studying with him, looking for some sort of development-at least, that's what I was told by a guy who knew her at the time. This was after we broke up.”
“That is not exactly what I meant,” she said. “Do you know why she desired this development?”
“Sounds like an extra question to me, but maybe I owe you one. The fellow I'd spoken with told me that I had scared her, that I'd given her to believe that I possessed unusual abilities, and that she was looking for some of her own in self-defense.”
“Finish it,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“That's not a complete answer. Did you actually give her cause to believe that and to be afraid of you?”
“Well,I guess I did. Now my question: How could you possibly know anything about Julia in the first place?”
“I was there,” she answered. “I knew her.”
“Go ahead.”
“That's it. Now it's my turn.”
“That's hardly complete.”
“But it's all you're getting on that one. Take it or leave it.”
“According to our agreement I can call it quits over that.”
“True. Will you?”
“What do you want to know next?”
“Did Julia develop the abilities she sought?”
“I told you that we'd stopped seeing each other before she got involved in that sort of thing. So I have no way of knowing.”
“You located the portal in her apartment from which the beast that slew her had presumably emerged. Two questions now-not for you to answer for me, just for you to think over: Why would anyone want her dead in the first place? And does it not seem a very peculiar way to have gone about it? I can think of a lot simpler ways of disposing of a person.”
“You're right,” I agreed. “A weapon is a hell of a lot easier to manage than magic any day. As for why, I can only speculate. I had assumed it was a trap for me, and that she had been sacrificed as part of the package-my annual April thirtieth present. Do you know about them, too?”
“Let's save that business for later. You are obviously aware that sorcerers have styles, the same as painters, writers, musicians. When you succeeded in locating that gateway in Julia's apartment, was there anything about it which we might refer to as the author's signature?”
“Nothing special that I can recall. Of course, I was in a hung to force it. I wasn't there to admire the aesthetics of the thing. But no, I can't associate it with anyone with whose work I am familiar. What are you getting at?”
“I just wondered whether it were possible that she might have developed some abilities of her own along these lines, and in the course of things opened that gateway herself and suffered those consequences.”
“Preposterous!”
“All right. I am just trying to turn up some reasons. I take it then that you never saw any indication that she might possess latent abilities for sorcery?”
“No, I can't recall any instances.”
I finished my coffee, poured a refill.
“If you don't think Luke is after me now, why not?” I asked her then.
“He set up some apparent accidents for you, years ago.”
“Yes. He admitted that recently. He also told me that he quit doing it after the first few times.”
“That is correct.”
“You know, it's maddening-not knowing what you know and what you do not.”
“That is why we're talking, isn't it? It was your idea to go about it this way.”
“It was not! You suggested this trade-off!”
“This morning, yes. But the idea was originally yours, some time ago. I am thinking of a certain telephone conversation, at Mr. Roth's place—”
“You? That disguised voice on the phone? How could that be?”
“Would you rather hear about that or about Luke?”
“That! No, Luke! Both, damn it!”
“So it would seem there is a certain wisdom in keeping to the format we've agreed upon. There is much to be said for orderliness.”
“Okay, you've made another point. Go on about Luke.”
“It seemed to me, as an observer, that he quit that business as soon as he got to know you better.”
“You mean back about the time we became friendly-that wasn't just an act?”
“I couldn't tell for sure then– and he certainly countenanced the years of attacks on you-but I believe that he actually sabotaged some of them.”
“Who was behind them after he quit?”
“A red-haired lady with whom he seemed to be associated.”
“Jasra?”
“Yes, that was her name-and I still don't know as much about her as I'd like to. Do you have anything there?”
“I think I'll save that for a big one,” I said.
For the first time, she directed a narrow-eyed, teeth-clenched expression toward me.
“Can't you see that I'm trying to help you, Merlin?”
“Really, what I see is that you want information I have,” I said, “and that's okay. I'm willing to deal because you seem to know things I want, too. But I've got to admit that your reasons are murky to me. How the hell did you get to Berkeley? What were you doing calling me at Bill's place? What is this power of yours you say isn't sorcery? How—”
“That's three questions,” she said, “and the beginning of a fourth.
Would you prefer to write them all out, and have me do the same for you? Then we can both go off to our rooms and decide which ones we want to answer?”