“Merlin! I want to talk!”
“I don’t. I’ve tried it too often, and I’ve nothing left to say. Come on over and let’s get this done — weapons, hands, magic. I don’t care.”
He raised both hands, palms outward.
“Truce!” he cried. “It wouldn’t be right to do it here in Sawall.”
“Don’t give me that scruples shit, brother!” I cried, but even as I said it I realized there might be something to it. I could remember how much the old man’s approval had meant to him, and I realized that he’d hate to do anything to antagonize Dara here on the premises. “What do you want, anyway?”
“To talk. I mean it,” he said. “What do I have to do?”
“Meet me over there,” I said, casting my ball of light to shine above a familiar object that looked like a giant house of cards made of glass and aluminum, bouncing light from hundreds of planes.
“All right,” came the reply.
I began walking in that direction. I saw him approaching from his, and I angled my course so that our paths would not intersect. Also, I increased my pace so as to arrive ahead of him.
“No tricks,” he called out. “And if we do decide we can only take it to the end, let’s go outside.”
“Okay.”
I entered the structure at a point around the corner from his approach. Immediately, I encountered six images of myself.
“Why here?” came his voice from somewhere near at hand.
“I don’t suppose you ever saw a movie called Lady from Shanghai?”
“No.”
“It occurred to me that we could wander around in here and talk, and the place would do a lot to keep us from hurting each other.”
I turned a corner. There were more of me in different places. A few moments later, I heard a sharp intake of breath from somewhere near at hand. It was followed almost immediately by a chuckle.
“I begin to understand,” I heard him say.
Three steps and another turn. I halted. There were two of him and two of me. He was not looking at me, though. I reached out slowly toward one of the images. He turned, he saw me. His mouth opened as he stepped back and vanished.
“What did you want to talk about?” I asked, halting.
“It’s hard to know where to begin.”
“That’s life.”
“You upset Dara quite a bit…”
“That was quick. I only left her ten, fifteen minutes ago. You’re staying here at Sawall?”
“Yes. And I knew she was having lunch with you. I just saw her briefly a little while ago.”
“Well, she didn’t make me feel too good either.”
I turned another corner and passed through a doorway in time to see him smile faintly.
“She’s that way sometimes. I know,” he said. “She tells me the Logrus came by for dessert.”
“Yes.”
“She said it seems to have chosen you for the throne.”
I hoped he saw my shrug.
“It seemed that way. I don’t want it, though.”
“But you said you’d do it.”
“Only if there’s no other way to restore a certain balance of forces. It’s a last resort sort of thing. It won’t come to that, I’m sure.”
“But it chose you.”
Another shrug.
“Tmer and Tubble precede me.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’d wanted it, you know.”
“I know. Seems a pretty dumb career choice.”
Suddenly, he surrounded me.
“It does now,” he admitted. “It was getting that way some time, though, before you got designated. I thought I had the edge each time we met, and each time it came a little closer to killing me.”
“It did keep getting messier.”
“That last time — in the church — in Kashfa, I was certain I could finally take you out. Instead, you damn near did me in.”
“Say that Dara or Mandor removed Tmer and Tubble. You knew you’d have to take care of me yourself, but what about Despil?”
“He’d step aside for me.”
“You asked him?”
“No. But I’m sure.”
I moved on.
“You always assumed too much, Jurt.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he said, appearing and vanishing again. “Either way, it doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“I quit. I’m out of the running. The hell with it.”
“How come?”
“Even if the Logrus hadn’t made its intentions clear, I was beginning to feel nervous. It was not just that I was afraid you’d kill me either. I got to thinking about myself, and the succession. What if I made it to the throne? I’m not so sure as I once was that I’m competent to hold it.” I turned again, caught a glimpse of him licking his lips, brows knotted. “I could mess up the realm severely,” he went on, “unless I had good advice. And you know that, ultimately, it would come from Mandor or Dara. I’d wind up a puppet, wouldn’t I?”
“Probably. But you’ve gotten me very curious. When did you start thinking this way? Might it coincide with your treatment in the Fountain? What if my interruption made yours closer to the correct course there?”
“It’s possible there’s something to that,” he said. “I’m glad now I didn’t go the full route. I suspect it might have driven me mad, as it did Brand. But it may not have been that at all. Or — I don’t know.”
There was silence as I sidled along a passageway, my puzzled images keeping pace in the mirrors at either hand.
“She didn’t want me to kill you,” he finally blurted from somewhere off to my right.
“Julia?”
“Yes.”
“How is she?”
“Recovering. Pretty rapidly, actually.”
“Is she here at Sawall?”
“Yes.”
“Look, I’d like to see her. But if she doesn’t want to, I understand. I didn’t know it was her when I stabbed Mask, and I’m sorry.”
“She never really wanted to hurt you. Her quarrel was with Jasra. With you, it was an elaborate game. She wanted to prove she was as good as — maybe better than — you. She wanted to show you what you’d thrown away.”
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“Tell me one thing, please,” he said. “Did you love her? Did you ever really love her?”
I didn’t answer him immediately. After all, I’d asked myself that question many times, and I’d had to wait for the answer, too.
“Yes,” I finally said. “I didn’t realize it till it was too late, though. Bad timing on my part.”
A little later I asked, “What about you?”
“I’m not going to make the same mistake you did,” he replied. “She’s what got me to thinking about all these things…”
“I understand. If she won’t see me, tell her that I said I’m sorry — about everything.”
There was no reply. I stood still for a time, hoping he’d catch up with me, but he didn’t.
Then, “Okay,” I called out. “Our duel’s ended, so far as I’m concerned.”
I began moving again. After a time, I came to an exit and I stepped through it.
He was standing outside, looking up at a massive porcelain face.
“Good,” he said.
I drew near.
“There’s more,” he said, still not looking at me.
“Oh?”
“I think they’re stacking the deck,” he stated.
“Who? How? What for?”
“Mom and the Logrus,” he told me. “To put you on the throne. Who’s the bride of the Jewel?”