I threw away a small stone I had been toying with. Once I released it, it moved very slowly.
The Jewel. Its slowdown effect again…
I drew more energy and the stone shot away. It seemed that I had just taken strength from the Jewel a little while ago. While this treatment energized my body, my mind still felt fogged up. I needed sleep — with lots of rapid eye movements. This place might seem a lot less unusual if I were rested.
How close was I to my destination? Was it just beyond the next mountain range, or an enormous distance farther? And what chance had I of staying ahead of that storm, no matter what the distance? And the others? Supposing the battle was already concluded and we had lost? I had visions of arriving too late, to serve only as gravedigger… Bones and soliloquies, Chaos…
And where was that damned black road now that I finally had a use for it? If I could locate it, I could follow it. I had a feeling that it was somewhere off to my left…
I reached out once again, parting the fogs, rolling them back… Nothing…
A shape? Something moving?
It was an animal, a large dog perhaps, moving to remain within the fog. Was it stalking me?
The Jewel began to pulse as I moved the fog even farther back. Exposed, the animal seemed to shrug itself. Then it moved straight toward me.
Chapter 8
I stood as it came near. I could see then that it was a jackal, a big one, its eyes fixed on my own.
“You are a little early,” I said. “I was only resting.”
It chuckled.
“I have come merely to regard a Prince of Amber,” the beast said. “Anything else would be a bonus.” It chuckled again. So did I.
“Then feast your eyes. Anything else, and you will find that I have rested sufficiently.”
“Nay, nay,” said the jackal. “I am a fan of the House of Amber. And that of Chaos. Royal blood appeals to me, Prince of Chaos. And conflict.”
“You have awarded me an unfamiliar title. My connection with the Courts of Chaos is mainly a matter of genealogy.”
“I think of the images of Amber passing through the shadows of Chaos. I think of the waves of Chaos washing over the images of Amber. Yet at the heart of the order Amber represents moves a family most chaotic, just as the House of Chaos is serene and placid. Yet you have your ties, as well as your conflicts.”
“At the moment,” I said, “I am not interested in paradox hunting and terminology games. I am trying to get to the Courts of Chaos. Do you know the way?”
“Yes,” said the jackal. “It is not far, as the carrion bird flies. Come, I will set you in the proper direction.”
It turned and began walking away. I followed.
“Do I move too fast? You seem tired.”
“No. Keep going. It is beyond this valley certainly, is it not?”
“Yes. There is a tunnel.”
I followed it, out across sand and gravel and dry, hard ground. There was nothing growing at either hand. As we walked, the fogs thinned and took on a greenish cast — another trick of that stippled sky, I assumed.
After a time, I called out, “How much farther is it?”
“Not too far now,” it said. “Do you grow tired? Do you wish to rest?”
It looked back as it spoke. The greenish light gave to its ugly features an even more ghastly cast. Still, I needed a guide; and we were heading uphill, which seemed to be proper.
“Is there water anywhere near about?” I asked.
“No. We would have to backtrack a considerable distance.”
“Forget it. I haven’t the time.”
It shrugged and chuckled and walked on. The fog cleared a little more as we went, and I could see that we were entering a low range of hills. I leaned on my staff and kept up the pace.
We climbed steadily for perhaps half an hour, the ground growing stonier, the angle of ascent steeper. I found myself beginning to breathe heavily.
“Wait,” I called to him. “I do want to rest now. I thought you said that it was not far.”
“Forgive me,” it said, halting, “for jackalocentrism. I was judging in terms of my own natural pace. I erred in this, but we are almost there now. It lies among the rocks just ahead. Why not rest there?”
“All right,” I replied, and I resumed walking.
Soon we reached a stony wall which I realized was the foot of a mountain. We picked our way among the rocky debris which lined it and came at last to an opening which led back into darkness.
“There you have it,” said the jackal. “The way is straight, and there are no troublesome side branches. Take your passage through, and good speed to you.”
“Thank you,” I said, giving up thoughts of rest for the moment and stepping inside.
“I appreciate this.”
“My pleasure,” he said from behind me.
I took several more steps and something crunched beneath my feet and rattled when kicked aside. It was a sound one does not readily forget. The floor was strewn with bones.
There came a soft, quick sound from behind me, and I knew that I did not have time to draw Grayswandir. So I spun, raising my staff before me and thrusting with it.
This maneuver blocked the beast’s leap, striking it on the shoulder. But it also knocked me over backward, to roll among the bones. The staff was torn from my hands by the impact, and in the split second of decision allowed me by my opponent’s own fall I chose to draw Grayswandir rather than grope after it.
I managed to get my blade unsheathed, but that was all. I was still on my back with the point of my weapon to my left when the jackal recovered and leaped again. I swung the pommel with all of my strength into its face.
The shock ran down my arm and up into my shoulder. The jackal’s head snapped back and its body twisted to my left. I brought the point into line immediately, gripping the hilt with both hands, and I was able to rise to my right knee before it snarled and lunged once more.
As soon as I saw that I had it on target, I threw my weight behind it, driving the blade deep into the jackal’s body. I released it quickly and rolled away from those snapping jaws.
The jackal shrieked, struggled to rise, dropped back. I lay panting where I had fallen. I felt the staff beneath me and seized it. I brought it around to guard and drew myself back against the cave wall. The beast did not rise again, however, but lay there thrashing. In the dim light, I could see that it was vomiting. The smell was overpowering.
Then it turned its eyes in my direction and lay still.
“It would have been so fine,” it said softly, “to eat a Prince of Amber. I always wondered — about royal blood.”
Then the eyes closed and the breathing stopped and I was left with the stink.
I rose, back still against the wall, staff still before me, and regarded it. It was a long while before I could bring myself to retrieve my blade.
A quick exploration showed me that I was in no tunnel, but only a cave. When I made my way out, the fog had grown yellow, and it was stirred now by a breeze from the lower reaches of the valley.
I leaned against the rock and tried to decide which way to take. There was no real trail here.
Finally, I struck off to my left. That way seemed somewhat steeper, and I wanted to get above the fog and into the mountains as soon as I could. The staff continued to serve me well. I kept listening for the sound of running water, but there was none about.