What I needed more than anything else was a plan of action. If there was even a chance that Thellops could help Dad, we had to find a way to get him here. But how?
I took a deep breath and slowed myself down. It never helped to rush into things. I tried to take a mental step backward. It always helped me to try to look at problems from a different angle.
Instead of bringing Thellops here… might we somehow bring Dad to Thellops? King Uthor might have a price on our heads, but I could change my appearance at will. From what I'd seen, others in Chaos had that ability, too… maybe even Blaise? If we could disguise our father and smuggle him back to the Courts of Chaos for Thellops to cure…
Then I almost chuckled out loud. Ridiculous—we couldn't just walk into our enemy's stronghold with a vague hope someone might be able to cure our father. We might as well stroll up to the palace gates and ask to be captured or killed.
I chewed my lip thoughtfully. Again I tried to take a mental step back. There had to be another way.
“Tell me more about Thellops,” I finally said. Understanding him better might provide a third solution.
“Everyone says he's a harmless old man. I don't know what else to add.”
“Is he Uthor's man?”
“I don't think so.”
“Why not?”
She hesitated. “It's just a feeling I have. The way he's always looked at the king… with more annoyance than respect, I'd say.”
“If I wanted to talk with him, how would I go about it? Is there a place I might find him alone and unguarded?”
“Maybe at the Logrus…”
“Does he ever leave the Courts?”
“I don't think so.” She hesitated. “He's old. And crazy. Where would he go? Nobody wants him.”
I started to pace. “Tell me more about the Logrus. Is it guarded? Could I get to it?”
“It's not guarded… it doesn't need to be.”
“What about Thellops?”
“He doesn't carry any weapons, if that's what you mean. Maybe, if you caught him by surprise, you could bring him here before he could stop you. He doesn't look very strong.”
“You never know. Appearances can be deceiving, especially with creatures of Chaos.” I shook my head. “No, kidnapping him wouldn't work, anyway. We need him in a cooperative mood. Might we appeal to his sense of duty? Or friendship? How well does he know Dad?”
“Not well, I think. I have never heard Dad mention him before, except off-handedly.”
“Thellops!” Dad suddenly muttered, as if on cue.
I glanced down at him. He seemed to be asleep. His arms and legs twitched like a dog chasing dream-rabbits.
Then another thought struck me.
“What if Dad was trying to warn me about something?” I said slowly. “Could Thellops have done this to him? It might explain Dad's behavior. He called me Thellops before he tried to kill me.”
“I don't know…” Blaise hesitated. “Freda might be able to tell. Was Dad ever out of your sight? Could they have met without your knowing it?”
I remembered how Dad had vanished from the center of the Pattern. Where had he gone? And how long had he been there? I had no way of knowing.
“It's possible,” I admitted. “We got separated.”
“How long were you apart?”
“I don't know. Time got weird.” How long had I been trapped in that gray fog? After Dad redrew the Pattern, I fell and lost all sense of time. It could have been an hour. It could have been days or weeks. I had no way of telling, especially since time ran differently among all the Shadows. At least a month had passed in the Courts of Chaos, according to Blaise.
With a sigh, Blaise continued, “Thellops is very powerful. He has to be, since he works directly with the Logrus. But, assuming he really is to blame for what happened to Dad, I have to ask—why? It doesn't make sense to me. Why would he attack Dad? And why would he make Dad crazy?”
Good questions. I wished I had an answer.
She went on, “Thellops has never been involved in politics, as far as I know. He doesn't carry a sword or fight duels. Why would he interfere? Why wouldn't he let King Uthor and the lai she'one take care of Dad? It doesn't make sense to me.”
“How about revenge?” I suggested. “No one but Dad and me seems to want the Shadows.”
“And Aber,” she said, pulling a sour face. They had never gotten along. “And Freda, of course.”
I nodded. True, they both seemed to love the Shadows as much as I did. We were all more alike that I'd thought… children of the Pattern, all.
Blaise said, “Besides, many people in the Courts have grown up with the Shadows and enjoy playing in them. But the rest of us…” Her voice trailed off. “The Shadows just don't seem right to me, somehow. They don't belong. I think everyone feels that way now. When the storms came—”
“But that was years ago!” Aber had told me about the terrible magical storms that swept in from the Shadows after they first appeared, wrecking havoc on the Courts of Chaos and killing thousands.
“No,” Blaise said firmly. “More storms struck Chaos—a lot more—over the last month.”
“They must have happened when Dad drew the Pattern again,” I said.
“I don't know.” She sighed heavily. “They were horrible, Oberon, pounding at the Courts and the Beyond until we thought the universe itself was coming to an end. I never want to experience anything like that again!”
“I'm sorry about the Shadow-storms,” I said, “but they're gone and nothing can be done about it now. You survive—”
“No thanks to you!” she said with a snort.
“—and I find it hard to care about anyone else in Chaos, beyond our immediate family. In fact, I wish the storms had killed off Uthor and Lord Zon and everyone else who stands against us. I'd send more storms, if I knew how!”
“Don't even think that!” She looked horrified. “You have no idea how horrible they were! I wouldn't wish it on our worst enemy—think of the thousands of innocent people who would die!”
I snorted. “You have a soft spot in your heart. I would kill our enemies in one quick swipe, if I could. No matter the cost.”
“You would only make more enemies.” She shook her head. “We're a hardy lot, we Lords and Ladies of Chaos.”
“Almost as hard to kill as Dad and me.”
“You'd be surprised at how much it takes to kill a Lord of Chaos.” She shrugged. “The Pattern storms served as a wakeup call. When the Courts are weakened and Chaos itself is threatened, everyone will put aside their differences and join the king.”
“Against Dad and me.”
“If you want to put it that way, then yes. Everyone blames Dad, but they want us all dead. You, me, Freda, Dad—everyone. It's in our bloodline, they say… traitors breed more traitors. If we are dead, the problem goes away… or so the reasoning goes.”
“I think I'm finally beginning to understand,” I said. In a sudden flash of inspiration, the truth came to me. We weren't really fighting over the existence of the Shadows or the devastation caused by Pattern storms. We were fighting over power.
The Pattern rivaled the Logrus… might even be more powerful than the Logrus. Sure, purebred Lords of Chaos could change their appearance, move through Shadows, and summon objects from far away. But I could do most of that already using just the Pattern. And, unlike Chaos, the Pattern cast a seemingly infinite number of Shadow-worlds across the universe.
I had to ask myself, If the Pattern holds such power, why would anyone need the Logrus?
Dad was like the first Lord of Chaos, the one who discovered and experimented with the Logrus, mastering its gifts to forge an empire. This first King of Chaos must have wielded powers unimaginable to all who came before him. And he had used that power to conquer his enemies and create the Courts of Chaos, which he and his descendants had ruled for untold thousands of years.