And then there was Dalt a sworn enemy of Amber, I gathered. I studied his card again, and I wondered: If he were indeed such a good friend of Luke's, perhaps I should let him know what had happened. He might even know of the circumstances involved and mention something I could use. In fact, the more I thought about it-recalling his recent presence at the Keep of the Four Worlds-the more tempting it became to try to reach him. It seemed possible I could even pick up something about what was now going on in that place.
I gnawed a knuckle. Should I or shouldn't I? I couldn't see any harm that could come of it. I wasn't planning on giving anything away. Still; there were a few misgivings.
What the hell, I decided finally. Nothing ventured.. : .
Hello, hello. Reaching out through the suddenly cold card...
A startled moment somewhere, and the sense of an Aha!
Like a portrait come to life, my vision stirred.
“Who are you?” the man asked, hand on hilt, blade half drawn.
“My name is Merlin,” I said, “and we've a mutual acquaintance named Rinaldo. I wanted to tell you that he'd been badly injured.”
By now, we both hovered between our two realities, solid and perfectly clear to each other. He was bigger than I'd thought from his representation, and he stood at the center of a stone-walled room, a window to his left showing a blue sky and a limb of cloud. His green eyes, at first wide, were now narrowed and the set of his jaw seemed a bit truculent.
“Where is he?” he inquired.
“Here. With me,” I answered.
“How fortunate,” he replied, and the blade was in his hand and he moved forward.
I Sipped the Trump away, which did not sever the contact. I had to summon the Logrus to do that—and it fell between us like the blade of a guillotine and jerked me back as if I had just touched a live wire. My only consolation was that Dalt had doubtless felt the same thing.
“Merle, what's going on?” Luke's voice came hoarsely. “I sawDalt...”
“Uh, yeah. I just called him.”
He raised his head slightly. “Why?”
“To tell him about you. He's your friend, isn't he?”
“You asshole!” he said. “He's the one that did this to me!”
Then he began coughing and I rushed to his side.
“Get me some water, huh?” he said.
“Coming up.”
I went off to the bathroom and fetched him a glass. I propped him and he sipped it for a time.
“Maybe I should have told you,” he said finally. “Didn't think-you'd play games-that way, though-when you don't know-what's going on...”
He coughed again, drank more water.
“Hard to know what to tell you-and what not to,” he continued, a while later.
“Why not tell me everything?” I suggested.
He shook his head slightly. “Can't. Probably get you killed. More likely both of us.”
“The way things have been going, it seems as if it could happen whether you tell me or not.”
He smiled faintly and took another drink.
“Parts of this thing are personal,” he said then, “and I don't want anyone else involved.”
“I gather that your trying to kill me every spring for a while there was kind of personal, too,” I observed, “yet somehow I felt involved.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, slumping back and raising his right hand. “I told you I cut that out a long time ago.”
“But the attempts went on.”
“They weren't my doing.”
Okay, I decided. Try it. “It was Jasra, wasn't it?”
“What do you know about her?”
“I know she's your mother, and I gather this is her war too.”
He nodded. “So you know... All right. That makes it easier,” He paused to catch his breath. “She started me doing the April thirtieth stuff for practice. When I got to know you better and quit, she was mad.”
“So she continued it herself?”
He nodded.
“She wanted you to go after Caine,” I said.
“So did I.”
“But the others? She's leaning on you about them, I'll bet. And you're not so sure they have it coming.”
Silence.
“Are you?” I said.
He shifted his gaze away from my own and I heard his teeth grind together.
“You're off the hook,” he said at last. “I've no intention of hurting you. I won't let her do it either.”
“And what about Bleys and Random and Fiona and Flora and Gerard and—”
He laughed, which cost him a wince and a quick clutch at his chest. “They've nothing to worry about from us,” he said, “right now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think,” he told me. “I could have trumped back to my old apartment, scared hell out of the new tenants and called an ambulance. I could be in an emergency room right now.”
“Why aren't you?”
“I've been hurt worse than this, and I've made it. I'm here because I need your help.”
“Oh? For what?”
He looked at me, then looked away again. “She's in bad trouble, and we've got to rescue her.”
“Who?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“My mother,” he replied.
I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't when I saw the expression on his face. It took real balls to ask me to help rescue the woman who'd tried to kill me-not once, but many times-and whose big aim in life seemed to be the destruction of my relatives. Balls, or—
“I've no one else left to turn to,” he said.
“If you talk me into this one, Luke, you'll deserve the Salesman of the Year Award,” I said. “But I'm willing to listen.”
“Throat's dry again,” he said.
I went and refilled the glass. As I returned with it, it seemed there was a small noise in the hall. I continued listening while I helped Luke to a few more sips.
He nodded when he was finished, but I had heard another sound by then. I raised my finger to my lips and glanced at the door. I put down the glass, rose and crossed the room, retrieving my blade as I did so.
Before I reached the door, however, there was a gentle knock.
“Yes?” I said, advancing to it.
“It's me,” came Vinta's voice. “I know that Luke is in there, and I want to see him.”
“So you can finish him off?” I asked.
“I told you before that that is not my intention.”
“Then you're not human,” I said.
“I never claimed I was.”
“T'hen you're not Vinta Bayle,” I said.
There followed a long silence, then, “Supposing I'm not?”
“Then tell me who you are.”
“I can't.”
“Then meet me halfway,” I said, drawing upon all of my accumulated guesswork concerning her, “and tell me who you were.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. Pick one-any one. I don't care.”
There was another silence, then, “I dragged you from the fire,” she said, “but I couldn't control the horse. I died in the lake. You wrapped me in your cloak...”
That was not an answer I had anticipated. But it was good enough.
With the point of my weapon I raised the latch. She pushed the door open and glanced at the blade in my hand.
“Dramatic,” she remarked.
“You've impressed me,” I said, “by the perils with which I am beset.”
“Not sufficiently, it would seem.” She entered, smiling.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I didn't hear you ask him anything about the blue stones and what he might have homing in on you as a consequence of your attunement.”
“You've been eavesdropping.”
“A lifetime habit,” she agreed.