I passed a familiar-seeming outcrop of stone. Could I have been moving in a circle? There is a tendency to do that when completely lost. I listened for the thunder, to take my bearings again. Perversely, all was silent. I moved to the outcrop and seated myself on the ground, resting my back against it. No sense to merely wandering. I would wait a time for the thunder's signal. I withdrew my Trumps as I sat there. Dad had said that they would be out of commission for a time, but I had nothing better to do.
One by one, I went through them all, trying to reach everyone, save for Brand and Caine. Nothing. Dad had been right. The cards lacked the familiar coldness. I shuffled the entire deck then and cast my fortune, there on the sand. I got an impossible reading and put them all away again. I leaned back and wished I had some water left. For a long while, I listened for the storm. There were a few growls, but they were directionless. The Trumps made me think of my family. They were up ahead-wherever that might be-waiting for me. Waiting for what? I was transporting the Jewel. To what end? At first, I had assumed that its powers might be necessary in the conflict. If so, and if I were indeed the only one who could employ them, then we were in bad shape. I thought of Amber then, and I was shaken with remorse and a kind of dread. Things must not end for Amber, ever. There had to be a way to roll back the Chaos...
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.