John Betancourt - Chaos and Amber

Yawning, I leaned forward on the table, then put my head down on my arms. I couldn't help it; exhaustion washed over me. Although an inner voice screamed warnings, I let my eyes close, and then I found darkness.

Cold water sluiced over me.

Gasping, sputtering, I leaped to my feet, knocking over my chair. The world jumped and swayed, and I almost fell.

It was Aber. He had poured another pitcher of water on my head and now stood back, grinning at his handiwork.

He said, “I didn't think you'd give me a second chance to do that.”

I glowered. He looked entirely too smug.

“I'm going to strangle you,” I said, and then I began shivering.

“You were warned!” He wagged a finger at me. “Sleep at your own peril, brother.”

I snarled, “I wasn't asleep!”

“Hah! Towel?”

“Please.”

He pulled one from the air and tossed it to me. For the second time that day, I dried myself off and wished him an unpleasant fate. At least Rhalla would be bringing me dry clothing soon.

“Just wait,” I said. “If I ever figure out how to use that Logrus thing…”

“Be my guest.” He picked up the chair I'd knocked over and set it next to me. I sat down again. “But it isn't going to happen, and you know it.”

I sighed; he was right. I accepted it now. Members of our family all had a certain Pattern inside them, some kind of mystical design that allowed them to master the Logrus. Unfortunately, the pattern inside me was so distorted, according to Dworkin, that I would never be able to master the Logrus. Trying would kill me, as it had killed Dworkin's brother and several others in our family.

Suddenly I remembered what had called Aber away.

“What about that bell?” I said. “Did we have company?”

“Company? Of a sort.” He sighed. “A dozen of King Uthor's soldiers stopped by. They're searching the house for something. They should be up here soon.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Searching for what?”

“I don't know. They wouldn't tell me. But it must be pretty important.”

“You should have thrown them out!”

He chuckled. “You don't do that to King Uthor's men if you want to live. It would be… impolite.”

I struggled to my feet. “Get me downstairs. I'll throw them out myself!”

“Sit down. You're being foolish.”

I glared at him. “Is it better to let strangers ransack everything?”

“In this case, yes. That's what Dad would do.”

“And you left them alone? To do whatever they want?”

“Sure. Why not? I have nothing to hide.” He shrugged. “Besides, you're far more important than the house—and it's a good thing I came back here to check up on you, too. No telling how long you were asleep.”

At least he placed as high a value on me as I did on him.

“You said I was unconscious for three days,” I said softly. “Tell me what I've missed.”

“What's the last thing you remember?”

I paused, thinking. “We were in Juniper. Dad drew new Trumps, and everyone left… except the three of us.”

“That's right. Then what?”

In my mind I began to relive our mad exodus from Juniper. There had been a tremendous battle fought outside the castle, with me and two of my half-brothers each commanding a third of the army. I recalled the terrible price we had paid for victory that day… my brothers Davin and Locke had died, and command had fallen on me.

With the army badly outnumbered, I saw the situation was hopeless. It was then that an idea occurred to me. Dworkin claimed the Pattern within me was different than the Logrus-pattern he and everyone else carried. Since everyone's access to the Logrus had been blocked by magical means, I had him draw a magical Trump using the Pattern within me as its starting point.

This new type of Trump worked. We found it could open a path to other Shadow worlds without difficulty. Suddenly we had a way out of Juniper.

I had him scatter my half-brothers and half-sisters to distant Shadows, where no one but he and I would know they had gone. Under the assumption that a spy had been telling our unknown enemy where to find—and kill—us, they were ordered not to come back to Juniper or to the Courts of Chaos. I only hoped they would be all right.

Then, when only Dworkin, Aber, and I were left, Dworkin showed me the last Trump he had made. It showed a nightmare scene that made my skin crawl. I hated the place at first sight, hated the Courts of Chaos and everything like them on some deep level I could not as yet understand… and yet I had agreed to go there. Here. The Beyond.

Dworkin and I would have used the Trump and gone through immediately, but Aber stopped us.

“We can't slink back to Chaos like whipped dogs,” he said, folding his arms stubbornly. “Ours is an ancient family, and we are due respect for our station.”

“What do you expect?” I demanded, half joking. “A parade?”

“Yes!” he snapped back at me. “That's exactly what I expect!”

It wasn't so much a parade as an entourage. It took us less than an hour to round up every servant in the castle, plus two dozen sturdy men-at-arms. Then, another hour to empty his bedroom of everything he wanted—plus Dworkin's rooms, with their experiments, machines, and other weird things he had built or collected through the years.

Finally, with our numbers swollen to more than a hundred strong, Dworkin used the Trump and began sending people through. Aber went first, then the guards, then the servants with their various burdens, until finally only the two of us remained.

“After you,” Dworkin said, waving me forward.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped through quickly, before my unnerving fear of the place could stop me. I remembered nothing of what happened after that. Just a stride forward, a sense of falling, the sound of rushing winds, and then… darkness.

“That's it,” I told Aber. “Dad used the Trump, we all walked through to“ I frowned. “I don't remember.”

Aber clasped my shoulder, growing serious. “You collapsed as soon as you set foot here. Just folded up without a word. I thought you and Dad had been attacked on the other side, and everyone drew their weapons and rushed to help, but then Dad came through and he looked fine. He wasn't even breathing hard. He didn't want to linger outside, so a couple of guards picked you up and carried you into the house. They brought you up here.”

I chewed on my lip, then nodded. It sounded true.

“Go on,” I said.

He shrugged. “At first we thought you were dead, but Dad examined you and said it was more like a very deep sleep. Your heart beat slowly and faintly. You were barely breathing. Sometimes you'd stir and cry out a little, but it was never more than that. Dad thought you were trying to wake yourself up, but couldn't.”

“I don't really remember much,” I said truthfully. I tried to think back to my dreams, but could not summon them now; something about a ship… roaring winds… sailing on a distant sea…

I shivered. No, my dreams were gone now, and I did not want them back. I had not enjoyed them.

“So that's all,” Aber said with a little shrug. “We settled in again at the house. Servants had been keeping everything ready for our return. It was just a matter of picking up where we'd left off twenty years ago.”

“Twenty years!” I echoed in disbelief. The time shocked me. Aber looked no more than twenty-five, and he acted more like sixteen. “How old are you, really?”

“Twenty-three.” He grinned at my bewildered expression. “Time runs differently in Shadows. As far as I'm concerned, I was here seven months ago.”

“I begin to understand,” I said.