rz.signoftheunicorn-第8部分

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mber；　and　he　had　used　it　the　same　way　this　past　week　when　the　creatures　had　made　their　assault　from　the　black　road。　It　had　served　him　well　on　both　occasions；　even　if　it　had　not　been　sufficient　to　save　his　life。　So　I　had　better　get　hold　of　its　power　myself；　I　decided；　now。　Any　extra　edge　was　important。　And　it　would　be　good　to　be　seen　wearing　the　thing；　too；　I　judged。　Especially　now。
　I　put　the　notes　back　into　the　safe；　the　jewel　in　my　pocket。　I　left　then　and　headed　downstairs。　Again；　as　before；　to　walk　those　halls　made　me　feel　as　if　I　had　never　been　away。　This　was　home；　this　was　what　I　wanted。　Now　I　was　its　defender。　I　did　not　even　wear　the　crown；　yet　all　its　problems　had　bee　my　own。　It　was　ironic。　I　had　e　back　to　claim　the　crown；　to　wrest　it　from　Eric；　to　hold　the　glory；　to　reign。　Now；　suddenly；　things　were　falling　apart。　It　had　not　taken　long　to　realize　that　Eric　had　behaved　incorrectly。　If　he　had　indeed　done　Dad　in；　he　had　no　right　to　the　crown。　If　he　had　not；　then　he　had　acted　prematurely。　Either　way；　the　coronation　had　served　only　to　fatten　his　already　obese　ego。　Myself；　I　wanted　it　and　I　knew　that　I　could　take　it。　But　it　would　be　equally　irresponsible　to　do　so　with　my　troops　quartered　in　Amber；　suspicious　of　Caine's　murder　about　to　descend　upon　me；　the　first　signs　of　a　fantastic　plot　suddenly　displayed　before　me；　and　the　continuing　possibility　that　Dad　was　still　alive。　On　several　occasions　it　seemed　we　had　been　in　contact；　briefly　…　and　at　one　such　time；　years　ago；　that　he　had　okayed　my　succession。　But　there　was　so　much　deceit　and　trickery　afoot　that　I　did　not　know　what　to　believe。　He　had　not　abdicated。　Also；　I　had　had　a　head　injury；　and　I　was　well　aware　of　my　own　desires。　The　mind　is　a　funny　place。　I　do　not　even　trust　my　own。　Could　it　be　that　I　had　manufactured　that　whole　business？　A　lot　had　happened　since。　The　price　of　being　an　Amberite；　I　suppose；　is　that　you　cannot　even　trust　yourself。　I　wondered　what　Freud　would　have　said。　While　he　had　failed　to　pierce　my　amnesia；　he　had　e　up　with　some　awfully　good　guesses　as　to　what　my　father　had　been　like；　what　our　relationship　had　been；　even　though　I　had　not　realized　it　at　the　time。　I　wished　that　I　could　have　one　more　session　with　him。
　I　made　my　way　through　the　marble　dining　hall　and　into　the　dark；　narrow　corridor　that　lay　behind。　I　nodded　to　the　guard　and　walked　on　back　to　the　door。　Through　it　then；　out　onto　the　platform；　across　and　down。　The　interminable　spiral　stairway　that　leads　into　the　guts　of　Kolvir。　Walking。　Lights　every　now　and　then。　Blackness　beyond。
　It　seemed　that　a　balance　had　shifted　somewhere　along　the　way；　and　that　I　was　no　longer　acting　but　being　acted　upon；　being　forced　to　move；　to　respond。　Being　herded。　And　each　move　led　to　another。　Where　had　it　all　begun？　Maybe　it　had　been　going　on　for　years　and　I　was　only　just　now　being　aware　of　it。　Perhaps　we　were　all　victims；　in　a　fashion　and　to　a　degree　none　of　us　had　realized。　Great　victuals　for　morbid　thought　Sigmund；　where　are　you　now？　I　had　wanted　to　be　king　…　still　wanted　to　be　king　…　more　than　anything　else。　Yet　the　more　I　learned　and　the　more　I　thought　about　what　I　had　learned；　the　more　all　of　my　movements　actually　seemed　to　amount　to　Amber　Pawn　to　King　Four。　I　realized　then　that　this　feeling　had　been　present　for　some　time；　growing；　and　I　did　not　like　it　at　all。　But　nothing　that　has　ever　lived　has　gotten　by　without　making　some　mistake；　I　consoled　myself。　If　my　feeling　represented　actuality；　my　personal　Pavlov　was　setting　closer　to　my　fangs　with　each　ringing　of　the　bell。　Soon　now；　soon；　I　felt　that　it　had　to　be　soon；　I　would　have　to　see　that　he　came　very　near。　Then　it　would　be　mine　to　see　that　he　neither　went　away　nor　ever　came　again。
　Turning；　turning；　around　and　down；　light　here；　light　there；　these　my　thoughts；　like　thread　on　a　spool；　winding　or　unwinding；　hard　to　be　sure。　Below　me　the　sound　of　metal　against　stone。　A　guard's　scabbard；　the　guard　rising。　A　ripple　of　light　from　a　lantern　raised。
　〃Lord　Corwin。。。〃
　〃Jamie。〃
　At　bottom；　I　took　a　lantern　from　the　shelf。　Putting　a　light　to　it；　I　turned　and　headed　toward　the　tunnel；　pushing　the　darkness　on　ahead　of　me；　a　step　at　a　time。
　Eventually　the　tunnel；　and　so　up　it；　counting　side　passages。　It　was　the　seventh　that　I　wanted。　Echoes　and　shadows。　Must　and　dust。
　ing　to　it；　then。　Turning　there。　Not　too　much　farther。
　Finally；　that　great；　dark；　metal…bound　door。　I　unlocked　it　and　pushed　hard。　It　creaked；　resisted；　finally　moved　inward。
　I　set　down　the　lantern；　just　to　the　right；　inside。　I　had　no　further　need　of　it；　as　the　Pattern　itself　gave　off　sufficient　light　for　what　I　had　to　do。
　For　a　moment　I　regarded　the　Pattern　…　a　shining　mass　of　curved　lines　that　tricked　the　eye　as　it　tried　to　trace　them　…　imbedded　there；　huge；　in　the　floor's　slick　blackness。　It　had　given　me　power　over　Shadow；　it　had　restored　most　of　my　memory。　It　would　also　destroy　me　in　an　instant　if　I　were　to　essay　it　improperly。　What　gratitude　the　prospect　did　arouse　in　me　was　therefore　not　untinged　with　fear。　It　was　a　splendid　and　cryptic　old　family　heirloom　which　belonged　right　where　it　was；　in　the　cellar。
　I　moved　off　to　the　corner　where　the　tracery　began。　There　I　posed　my　mind；　relaxed　my　body；　and　set　my　left　foot　upon　the　Pattern。　Without　pausing；　I　strode　forward　then　and　felt　the　current　begin。　Blue　sparks　outlined　my　boots。　Another　step。　There　was　an　audible　crackling　this　time　and　the　beginning　of　resistance。　I　took　the　first　curvelength；　striving　to　hurry；　wanting　to　reach　the　First　Veil　as　quickly　as　possible。　By　the　time　I　did；　my　hair　was　stirring　and　the　sparks　were　brighter；　longer。
　The　strain　increased。　Each　step　required　more　effect　than　the　previous　one。　The　crackling　grew　louder　and　the　current　intensified。　My　hair　rose　and　I　shook　off　sparks。　I　kept　my　eyes　on　the　fiery　lines　and　did　not　stop　pushing。
　Suddenly　the　pressure　abated。　I　staggered　but　kept　moving。　I　was　through　the　First　Veil　and　into　the　feeling　of　acplishment　that　that　entailed。　I　recalled　the　last　time　that　I　had　e　this　way；　in　Rebma；　the　city　under　the　sea。　The　maneuver　I　had　just　pleted　was　what　had　started　the　return　of　my　memories。　Yes。　I　pushed　ahead　and　the　sparks　grew　and　the　currents　rose　once　again；　setting　my　flesh　to　tingling。
　The　Second　Veil。。。　The　angles。。。　It　always　seemed　to　tax　the　strength　to　its　limits；　to　produce　the　feeling　that　one's　entire　being　was　transformed　into　pure　Will。　It　was　a　driving；　relentless　sensation。　At　the　moment；　the　negotiation　of　the　Pattern　was　the　only　thing　in　the　world　that　meant　anything　to　me。　I　had　always　been　there；　striving；　never　been　away；　always　would　be　there；　contending；　my　will　against　the　maze　of　power。　Time　had　vanished。　Only　the　tension　held。
　The　sparks　were　up　to　my　waist。　I　entered　the　Grand　Curve　and　fought　my　way　along　it。　I　was　continually　destroyed　and　reborn　at　every　step　of　its　length；　baked　by　the　fires　of　creation；　chilled　by　the　cold　at　entropy's　end。
　Out　and　onward；　turning。　Three　more　curves；　a　straight　line；　a　number　of　arcs。　Dizziness；　a　sensation　of　fading　and　intensifying　as　though　I　were　oscillating　into　and　out　of　existence。　Turn　after　turn　after　turn　after　turn。。。　A　short；　sharp　arc。。。　The　line　that　led　to　the　Final　Veil。。。　I　imagine　I　was　gasping　and　drenched　with　sweat　by　then。　I　never　seem　to　remember　for　sure。　I　could　hardly　move　my　feet。　The　sparks　were　up　to　my　shoulders。　They　came　into　my　eyes　and　I　lost　sight　of　the　Pattern　itself　between　blinks。　In；　out；　in；　out。。。　There　it　was。　I　dragged　my　right　foot　forward；　knowing　how　Benedict　must　have　felt；　his　legs　snared　by　the　black　grass。　Right　before　I　rabbit…punched　him。　I　felt　bludgeoned　myself　…　all　over。　Left　foot；　forward。。。　So　slowly　it　was　hard　to　be　certain　it　was　actually　moving。　My　hands　were　blue　flames；　my　legs　pillars　of　fire。　Another　step。　Another。　Yet　another。
　I　felt　like　a　slowly　animated　statue；　a　thawing　snowman；　a　buckling　girder。。。　Two　more。。。　Three。。。　Glacial；　my　movements；　but　I　who　directed　them　had　all　of　eternity　and　a　perfect　constancy　of　will　that　would　be　realized。。。
　I　passed　through　the　Veil。　A　short　arc　followed。　Three　steps　to　cross　it　into　blackness　and　peace。　They　were　the　worst　of　all。
　A　coffee　break　for　Sisyphus！　That　was　my　first　thought　as　I　departed　the　Pattern。　I've　done　it　again！　was　my　second。　And；　Never　again！　was　my　third。
　I　allowed　myself　the　luxury　of　a　few　deep　breaths　and　a　little　shaking。　Then　I　unpocketed　the　jewel　and　raised　it　by　its　chain。　I　held　it　before　my　eye。
　Red　inside；　of　course　…　a　deep　cherry…red；　smokeshot；　fulgent。　It　seemed　to　have　picked　up　something　extra　of　light　and　glitter　during　the　trip　through　the　Pattern。　I　continued　to　stare；　thinking　over　the　instructions；　paring　them　with　things　I　already　knew。
　Once　you　have　walked　the　Pattern　and　reached　this　point；　you　can　cause　it　to　transport　you　to　any　place　that　you　can　visualize。　All　that　it　takes　is　the　desire　and　an　act　of　will。　Such　being　the　case；　I　was　not　without　a　moment's　trepidation。　If　the　effect　proceeded　as　it　normally　did；　I　could　be　throwing　myself　into　a　peculiar　sort　of　trap。　But　Eric　had　succeeded。　He　had　not　been　locked　into　the　heart　of　a　gem　somewhere　off　in　Shadow。　The　Dworkin　who　had　written　those　notes　had　been　a　great　man；　and　I　had　trusted　him。
　posing　my　mind；　I　intensified　my　security　of　the　stone's　interior。
　There　was　a　distorted　reflection　of　the　Pattern　within　it；　surrounded　by　winking　points　of　light；　tiny　flares　and　flashes；　different　curves　and　paths。　I　made　my　decision；　I　focused　my　will。。。
　Redness　and　slow　motion。　Like　sinking　into　an　ocean　of　high　viscosity。　Very　slowly；　at　first。　Drifting　and　darkening；　all　the　pretty　lights　far；　far　ahead。　Faintly；　my　apparent　velocity　increased。　Flakes　of　light；　distant；　intermittent。　A　trifle　faster　then；　it　seemed。　No　scale。　I　was　a　point　of　consciousness　of　indeterminate　dimensions。　Aware　of　movement；　aware　of　the　configuration　toward　which　I　advanced；　now　almost　rapidly。　The　redness　was　nearly　gone；　as　was　the　consciousness　of　any　medium。　Resistance　vanished。　I　was　speeding。　All　of　this；　now；　seemed　to　have　taken　but　a　single　instant；　was　still　taking　that　same　instant。　There　was　a　peculiar；　timeless　quality　to　the　entire　affair。　My　velocity　relati