Again ..
Then came the point where even movement became less important than the effort. It was no longer the results but the attempt that mattered. My will was the flame; my body, smoke or shadow...
And again...
Seen through my risen blue light, the orange flames which surrounded Coral became silver-gray spikes of incandescence. Within the crackling and the popping I heard something like music once again-low, adagio, a deep, vibrant thing, like Michael Moore playing bass. I tried to accept the rhythm, to move with it. Somehow, then, it seemed that I succeeded-that, or my time sense became distorted-as I moved with a feeling of something like fluidity through the next steps.
Or maybe the Pattern felt it owed me a favor and had eased up for a few beats. I'll never know.
I passed through the Final Veil, faced the wall of flame, suddenly orange again, and kept going. I drew my next breath in the heart of fire.
Coral lay there at the Pattern's center, looking pretty much as she had when last I had seen her-in a copper shirt and dark green breeches-save that she appeared to be sleeping, sprawled there upon her heavy brown cloak. I dropped to my right knee beside her and laid my hand upon her shoulder. She did not stir. I brushed a strand of her reddish hair off her cheek, stroked that cheek a few times.
“Coral?” I said.
No response.
I returned my hand to her shoulder, shook her gently.
“Coral?”
She drew a deep breath and sighed it out, but she did not awaken.
I shook her a bit harder. “Wake up, Coral.”
I slipped my arm beneath her shoulders, raised her partway Her eyes did not open. Obviously she was under some sort of spell. The middle of the Patterb was hardly the place to summon the Sign of the Logrus if one wished to remain unincinerated. So I tried the storybook remedy. I leaned forward and kiss her. She made a small, deep noise, and her eyelids fluttered. But she did not come around. I tried again. Same result.
“Shit!” I remarked. I wanted a little elbowroom for working on a spell like this, a place where I had access to some of the tools of my trade and could call upon the source of my powers with impunity.
I raised her higher and commanded the Pattern to transport us back to my apartment in Amber, where her ty'iga-possessed sister lay in a trance of her own-one of my brother's doing, for purposes of protecting me from her.
“Take us home,” I said aloud, for emphasis.
Nothing happened.
I employed a strong visualization then and backed once more with the mental command.
We didn't stir.
I lowered Coral gently, rose, and looked out across the Pattern through the faintest area of the flames.
“Look,” I said, “I just did you a big favor, involving lot of exertion and considerable risk. Now I want to go the hell out of here and take the lady with me. Will you please oblige?”
The flames died down, were gone, for several beats. In the diminished light which followed I became aware that the Jewel was pulsing, like the message light on a hotel phone. I raised it and stared into it.
I hardly expected an X-rated short feature, but that's what was playing.
“I believe I'm receiving the wrong channel,” I said. “If you've got a message, let's have it. Otherwise, I just want to go home.”
Nothing changed, save that I became aware of a strong resemblance between the two figures in the Jewel and Coral and myself. They were going at it on a cloak at what appeared to be the center of a Pattern, flagrante ad infinitum-rather like a spicier version of the old salt box label, it seemed, if they could be seeing into the jewel the guy was wearing and watching...
“Enough!” I cried. “This is fucking ridiculous! You want a Tantric ritual I'll send you some professionals! The lady isn't even awake-”
The Jewel pulsed again, with such intensity that it hurt my eyes. I let it fall. I knelt then, scooped Coral up, and stood.
“I don't know whether anyone's ever walked you backwards before,” I said, “but I don't see why it shouldn't work.”
I took a step in the direction of the Final Veil. Immediately the wall of flame sprang up before me. I stumbled in drawing away from it, fell back upon the outspread cloak. I held Coral to me that she not be cast into the fire. She came down on top of me. She seemed almost awake...
Her arms went around my neck, and she sort of nuzzled my cheek. She seemed more drowsy than comatose now. I held her tightly and thought about it.
“Coral?” I tried again.
“Mm,” she said.
“Seems the only way we can get out of here is by making love.”
“Thought you'd never ask,” she mumbled, eyes still closed.
That made it seem somewhat less like necrophilia, I told myself as I turned us onto our sides so I could get at those coppery buttons. She muttered a little more while I was about things, but it didn't exactly turn into a conversation. Still, her body was not unresponsive to my attentions, and the encounter quickly took on all the usual features, too commonplace to be of much concern to the sophisticated. It seemed an interesting way to break a spell. Maybe the Pattern did have a sense of humor. I don't know.
The fires died down at about the same time that the fires died down, so to speak. Cora!'s eyes finally opened.
“That seems to have taken care of the circle of flames” I said.
“When did this cease being a dream?” she asked.
“Good question,” I replied, “and only you can answer it.”
“Did you just rescue me from something?”
“That seems the easiest way to put it,” I answered as she drew away somewhat and cast her gaze about the chamber. “See where it got you when you asked the Pattern to send you where you should go?” I said.
“Screwed,” she replied.
“Precisely.”
We drew apart. We adjusted our apparel.
“It's a good way to get to know each other better...” I had begun when the cavern was shaken by a powerful earth tremor.
“The timing is really off here,” I observed as we were rocked together and clung to each other for comfort, if not support.
It was over in an instant, and the Patrern was suddenly blazing more brilliantly than I'd ever seen it before. I shook my head. I rubbed my eyes. Something was wrong, even though it felt very right. Then the great metal-bound door opened-inward! -and I realized that we had come back to Amber, the real timber. My glowing trail still led up to the threshold, though it was fading fast, and a small figure stood upon it. Before I could even squint against the corridor's gloom, I felt a familiar disorientation, and we were in my bedroom.
“Nayda!” Coral exclaimed when she viewed the figure reclined upon my bed.
“Not exactly,” I said. “I mean, it's her body. But the spirit that moves it is of a different order.”
“I don't understand.”
I was busy thinking of the person who had been about to invade the precincts of the Pattern. I was also a mass of aching muscles, screaming nerves, and assorted fatigue poisons. I crossed to the table where the wine bottle I'd opened for Jasra-how long ago? -still stood. I found us two clean glasses. I filled them. I passed one to Coral.
“Your sister was very ill awhile back, wasn't she?”
“Yes,” she replied.
I took a big swallow.
“She was near death. At that time her body was possessed by a ty'iga spirit-a kind of demon-as Nayda no longer had any use for it.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I understand that she actually died.”
Coral stared into my eyes. She didn't find whatever she sought, and she took a drink instead.
“I'd known something was wrong,” she said. “She hasn't really been herself since the illness.”
“She became nasty? Sneaky?”
“No, a lot nicer. Nayda was always a bitch.”
“You didn't get along?”
“Not till recently. She's not in any pain, is she?”