Knight of Shadows

«Hey!» came a voice from overhead, and I looked up. The black-and-white stranger was seated atop the stone, smoking a thin cigar. He held a chalice in his left hand. «You interest me, kid,» he went on. «What's your name?»

«Merlin,» I answered. «What's yours?»

Instead of replying, he pushed himself outward, fell in slow motion, landed on his feet beside me. His left eye squinted as he studied me. The shadows flowed like dark water down his right side. He blew silvery smoke into the air.

«You're a live one,» he announced then, «with the mark of the Pattern and the mark of Chaos upon you. You bear the blood of Amber. What is your lineage, Merlin?»

The shadows parted for a moment, and I saw that his right eye was hidden by a patch.

«I am the son of Corwin,» I told him, «and you are - somehow - the traitor Brand.»

«You have named me,» he said, «but I never betrayed what I believed in.»

«That being your own ambition,» I said. «Your home and your family and the forces of Order never mattered to you, did they?»

He snorted.

«I will not argue with a presumptuous puppy»

«I've no desire to argue with you either. For whatever it's worth, your son Rinaldo is probably my best friend.»

I turned away and began walking. His hand fell upon my shoulder.

«Wait!» he said. «What is this talk? Rinaldo is but a lad.»

«Wrong,» I answered. «He's around my age.»

His hand fell away, and I turned. He had dropped his cigar, which lay smoking upon the trail, and he'd transferred the chalice to his shadow-clad hand. He massaged his brow.

«That much time has passed in the mainlines…» he remarked.

On a whim, I withdrew my Trumps, shuffled out Luke's, held it up for him to see.

«That's Rinaldo,» I said.

He reached for it, and for some obscure reason I let him take it. He stared at it for a long while.

«Trump contact doesn't seem to work from here,» I said.

He looked up, shook his head, and handed the card back to me.

«No, it wouldn't,» he stated. «How… is he?»

«You know that he killed Caine to avenge you?»

«No, I didn't know. But I'd expect no less of him.»

«You're not exactly Brand, are you?»

He threw back his head and laughed.

«I am entirely Brand, and I am not Brand as you might have known him. Anything more than that will cost you.»

«What will it cost me to learn what you really are?» I inquired as I cased my cards.

He raised the chalice, held it before him with both hands, like a begging bowl.

«Some of your blood,» he said.

«You've become a vampire?»

«No, I'm a Pattern-ghost,» he replied. «Bleed for me, and I'll explain.»

«All right,» I said. «It'd better be a good story, though,» and I drew my dagger and pricked my wrist, which I'd extended to a position above his cup.

Like a spilled oil lamp, the flames came forth. I don't really have fire flowing around inside me, of course. But the blood of a Chaosite is highly volatile in certain places, and this, apparently, was such a place.

It spewed forth, half into and half past the cup, splashing over his hand, his forearm. He screamed and seemed to collapse in upon himself. I stepped backward as he was transformed into a vortex - not unlike those following the sacrifices I had witnessed, only this one of the fiery variety - which rose into the air with a roar and vanished a moment later, leaving me startled, staring upward and applying direct pressure to my smoking wrist.

Uh, colorful exit, Frakir remarked.

«Family specialty,» I responded, «and speaking of exits…»

I stepped past the stone, departing the circle. The darkness moved in again, intensified. Reflexively my trail seemed to brighten. I released my wrist, saw that it had stopped smoking.

I broke into a jog then, anxious to be away from that place. When I looked back a little later, I no longer saw the standing stones. There was only a pale, fading vortex, drawing itself upward, upward, then gone.

I jogged on, and the trail began, gradually, to slope until I was running downhill with an easy, loping gait. The trail ran like a bright ribbon downward and off into a great distance before it faded from view. I was puzzled, however, to see that it intersected another glowing line not too far below. These lines quickly faded off to my right and my left.

«Any special instructions pertaining to crossroads?» I inquired.

Not yet, Frakir answered. Presumably, it's a decision point, with no way of knowing what to base one on till you get there.