"Will you be heading right back after you've seen me here?" I asked.
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," he responded. "Things have been slow back in the Courts, and I'm no one's assigned mount."
"Oh?"
"You're going to need a good mount, Lord Corwin."
"Yes, I'm sure."
"I'd like to apply for the job, for an indefinite period."
"I'd be honored," I said. "You're very special."
"Yes, I am."
We were atop Kolvir that afternoon and onto the grounds of Amber Palace within hours after that. I found Shask a good stall, groomed him, fed him, and left him to turn to stone at his leisure. I found a nameplate, scratched Shasko's name and my own upon it, and tacked it to his door.
"See you later," I said.
"Whatever, Lord. Whatever."
I departed the stables and headed for the palace. It was a damp, cloudy day, with a chill breeze from the direction of the sea. So far, no one had spotted me.
I entered by way of the kitchen, where there was new help on duty. None of them recognized me, though they obviously realized that I belonged. At least, they returned my greeting with due respect and did not object to some fruit I pocketed. They did ask whether I cared to have something sent to one of the rooms, and I answered "yes" and told them to send a bottle of wine and a chicken along with it. The afternoon head chef--a redhaired lady named Clare--began studying me more closely, and more than once her gaze drifted toward the silver rose on my cloak. I did not want to announce my identity just then, and I thought they'd be a little afraid to guess ahead at it, at least for a few hours. I did want the time to rest a bit and just enjoy the pleasure of being back. So, "Thanks," I said, and I went on my way to my quarters.
I started up the back stairs the servants use for being unobtrusive and the rest of us for being sneaky.
Partway up, I realized that the way was blocked by sawhorses. Tools lay scattered about the stairs though there were no workmen in sight--and I couldn't tell whether a section of old stair had simply given way or whether some other force had been brought to bear upon it.
I returned, cut around to the front, and took the big stairway up. As I made my way, I saw signs of exterior repair work, including entire walls and sections of flooring. Any number of apartments were open to viewing. I hurried to make sure that mine was not among their number.
Fortunately, it was not. I was about to let myself in when a big redhaired fellow turned a corner and headed toward me. I shrugged. Some visiting dignitary, no doubt...
"Corwin!" he called out. "What are you doing here?"
As he drew nearer, I saw that he was studying me most intently. I gave him the same treatment.
"I don't believe I've had the pleasure," I said.
"Aw, come on, Corwin," he said. "You surprised me. Thought you were off by your Pattern and the '57 Chevy."
I shook my head.
"Not sure what you're talking about," I said.
He narrowed his eyes.
"You're not a Pattern ghost?" he said.
"Merlin told me something about them," I said, "after he effected my release at the Courts. But I don't believe I've ever met one."
I rolled up my left sleeve.
"Cut me. I bleed," I said.
As he studied my arm, his gaze appeared more than a little serious. For a moment, I thought he'd actually take me up on it.
"All right," he said then. "Just a nick. For security purposes."
"I still don't know who I'm talking to," I said.
He bowed.
"Sorry. I am Luke of Kashfa, sometimes known as Rinaldo I, its king. If you are who you say you are, I am your nephew. My dad was your brother Brand."
Studying him, I saw the resemblance. I thrust my arm farther forward.
"Do it," I said.
"You're serious."
"Dead right."
He drew a Bowie knife from his belt then and looked into my eyes. I nodded. He moved to touch my forearm with its tip and nothing happened. That is to say, something happened, but it was neither desired nor wholly anticipated.
The point of his blade seemed to sink a halfinch or so into my arm. It kept going then, finally passing all the way through. But no blood came.
He tried again. Nothing.
"Damn," he said. "I don't understand. If you were a Pattern ghost, we'd at least get a flare. But there's not even a mark on you."
"May I borrow the blade?" I asked.
"Sure."
He passed it to me. I took it in my hand and studied it, I pushed it into my arm and drew it along for perhaps threequarters of an inch. Blood oozed.
"I'll be damned," Luke said. "What's going on?"
"I'd say it's a spell I picked up when I spent a night in the Dancing Mountains recently," I replied.
"Hm," Luke mused, "I've never had the pleasure, but I've heard stories of the place. I don't know any simple ways to break its spells. My room's off toward the front." He gestured southward. "If you'd care to stop by, I'll see what I can figure out about it. I studied Chaos magic with my dad, and with my mother, Jasra."
I shrugged.
"This is my room right here," I said, "and I've a chicken and a bottle of wine on the way up. Let's do the diagnosis in here, and I'll split the meal with you."
He smiled.
"Best offer I've had all day," he said. "But let me stop back at my room for some tools of the trade."
"All right. I'll walk you back, so I'll know the way in case I need it."
He nodded and turned. We headed up the hall.
Turning the corner, we moved from west to east, passing Flora's apartments and moving in the direction of some of the better visitors' quarters. Luke halted before one room and reached into his pocket, presumably after the key. Then he halted.
"Uh, Corwin?" he said.
"What?" I responded.
"Those two big cobrashaped candle holders," he said, gesturing up the hall. "Bronze, I believe."
"Most likely. What of them?"
"I thought they were just hall decorations."
"That's what they are."
"The last time I looked at them, they kind of bracketed a small painting or tapestry," he said.
"My recollection, too," I said.
"Well, there seems to be a corridor between them now."
"No, that can't be. There's a proper hallway just a little beyond--" I began.
Then I shut up because I knew. I began walking toward it.
"What's going on?" Luke asked.
"It's calling me," I said. "I've got to go and see what it wants."
"What is it?"
"The Hall of Mirrors. It comes and goes. It brings sometimes useful, sometimes ambiguous messages to the one it calls."
"Is it calling us both, or just you?" Luke said.
"Dunno," I replied. "I feel it calling me, as it has in the past. You're welcome to come with me. Maybe it has some goodies for you, too."
"You ever hear of two people taking it at once?"
"No, but there's a first time for everything," I said.
Luke nodded slowly.
"What the hell," he said, "I'm game."
He followed me to the place of the snakes, and we peered up it. Candles flared along its walls, at either hand. And the walls glittered from the countless mirrors which hung upon them. I stepped forward. Luke followed, at my left.
The mirror frames were of every shape imaginable. I walked very slowly, observing the contents of each one. I told Luke to do the same. For several paces, the mirrors seemed simply to be giving back what was before them. Then Luke stiffened and halted, head turning to the left.
"Mom!" he said explosively.
The reflection of an attractive red-haired woman occupied a mirror framed in green-tinged copper in the shape of an Ouroboros serpent.