“Oh. I suppose she could, uh, terminate and get loose that way.”
“I suggested that, but she’s not sure it would work that way. It might just kill her along with the body, now that she’s bound to it the way she is.”
“So she’s still somewhere near the cave?”
“No. She retains her ty’iga powers, which make her something of a magical being. I believe she must simply have wandered off through Shadow while I was in the cave experimenting with the Jewel.”
“Why the cave?”
“That’s where you go to do clandestine things, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. So how come I could reach you there with the Trump?”
“I’d already finished the experiment and departed. In fact, I was looking for her when you called.”
“I think you’d better go and look some more.”
“Why?”
“Because I owe her for favors past — even if my mother did set her on me.”
“Certainly. I’m not sure how successful I’ll be, though. Magical beings don’t track as readily as the more mundane sort.”
“Give it a shot anyway. I’d like to know where she’s gotten to and whether there’s anything I can do for her. Maybe your new orientation will be of help — somehow.”
“We’ll see,” he said, and he winked out.
I sagged. How was Orkuz going to take it? I wondered. One daughter injured and the other possessed of a demon and wandering, off in Shadow. I moved to the foot of the bed and leaned against Mandor’s chair. He reached up with his left hand and squeezed my arm.
“I don’t suppose you learned anything about bonesetting off on that shadow-world, did you?” he inquired.
“Afraid not,” I answered.
“Pity,” he replied. “I’ll just have to wait my turn.”
“We can Trump you somewhere and get it taken care of right away,” I said, reaching for my cards.
“No,” he said. “I want to see things played out here.”
While he was speaking, I noticed that Random seemed engaged in an intense Trump communication. Vialle stood nearby, as if shielding him from the opening in the wall and whatever might emerge therefrom. Dworkin continued to work upon Coral’s face, his body blocking sight of exactly what he was doing.
“Mandor,” I said, “did you know that my mother sent the ty’iga to take care of me?”
“Yes,” he replied. “It told me that when you stepped out of the room. A part of the spell would not permit it to tell you this.”
“Was she just there to protect me, or was she spying on me, too?”
“That I couldn’t tell you. The matter didn’t come up. But it does seem her fears were warranted. You were in danger.”
“You think Dara knew about Jasra and Luke?”
He began to shrug, winced, thought better of it.
“Again, I don’t know for certain. If she did, I can’t answer the next one either: How did she know? Okay?”
“Okay.”
Random completed a conversation, covering a Trump. Then he turned and stared at Vialle for some time. He looked as if he were about to say something, thought better of it, looked away. He looked at me. About then I heard Coral moan, and I looked away, rising.
“A moment, Merlin,” Random said, “before you go rushing off.”
I met his gaze. Whether it was angry or merely curious, I could not tell. The tightening of the brows, the narrowing of the eyes could indicate either.
“Sir?” I said.
He approached, took me by the elbow, and turned me away from the bed, leading me off toward the doorway to the next room.
“Vialle, I’m borrowing your studio for a few moments,” he said.
“Surely,” she replied.
He led me inside and closed the door behind us. Across the room a bust of Gerard had fallen and broken. What appeared to be her current project — a multilimbed sea creature of a sort I’d never seen — occupied a work area at the studio’s far end.
Random turned on me suddenly and searched my face.
“Have you been following the Begma-Kashfa situation?” he asked.
“More or less,” I replied. “Bill briefed me on it the other night. Eregnor and all that.”
“Did he tell you that we were going to bring Kashfa into the Golden Circle and solve the Eregnor problem by recognizing Kashfa’s right to that piece of real estate?”
I didn’t like the way he’d asked that one, and I didn’t want to get Bill in trouble. It had seemed that that matter was still under wraps when we’d spoken. So, “I’m afraid I don’t recall all the details on this stuff,” I said.
“Well, that’s what I planned on doing,” Random told me. “We don’t usually make guarantees like that — the kind that will favor one treaty country at the expense of another — but Arkans, the Duke of Shadburne, kind of had us over a barrel. He was the best possible head of state for our purposes, and I’d paved the way for his taking the throne now that that red-haired bitch is out of the picture. He knew he could lean on me a bit, though — since he’d be taking a chance accepting the throne following a double break in the succession — and he asked for Eregnor, so I gave it to him.”
“I see,” I said, “everything except how this affects me.”
He turned his head and studied me through his left eye.
“The coronation was to be today. In fact, I was going to dress and Trump back for it in a little while…”
“You use the past tense,” I observed, to fill the silence he had left before me.
“So I do. So I do,” he muttered, turning away, pacing a few steps, resting his foot on a piece of broken statuary, turning back. “The good Duke is now either dead or imprisoned.”
“And there will be no coronation?” I said.
“Au contraire,” Random replied, still studying my face.
“I give up,” I said. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“There was a coup, at dawn, this morning.”
“Palace?”
“Possibly that, too. But it was backed by external military force.”
“What was Benedict doing while this was going on?”
“I ordered him to pull the troops out yesterday, right before I came home myself. Things seemed stable, and it wouldn’t have looked good to have combat troops from Amber stationed there during the coronation.”
“True,” I said. “So somebody moved right in, almost as soon as Benedict moved out and did away with the man who would be king, without the local constabulary even suggesting that that was not nice?”
Random nodded slowly.
“That’s about the size of it,” he said. “Now why do you think that might be?”
“Perhaps they were not totally displeased with the new state of affairs.”
Random smiled and snapped his fingers.
“Inspired,” he said. “One could almost think you knew what was going on.”
“One would be wrong,” I said.
“Today your former classmate Lukas Raynard becomes Rinaldo I, King of Kashfa.”
“I’ll be damned,” I said. “I’d no idea he really wanted that job. What are you going to do about it?”
“I think I’ll skip the coronation.
“I mean, over a slightly longer term.”
Random sighed and turned away, kicking at the rubble.
“You mean, am I going to send Benedict back, to depose him?”
“In a word, yes.”
“That would make us look pretty bad. What Luke just did is not above the Graustarkian politics that prevail in the area. We’d moved in and helped straighten out something that was fast becoming a political shambles. We could go back and do it again, too, if it were just some half assed coup by a crazy general or some noble with delusions of grandeur. But Luke’s got a legitimate claim, and it actually is stronger than Shadburne’s. Also, he’s popular. He’s young, and he makes a good appearance. We’d have a lot less justification for going back than we had for going in initially. Even so, I was almost willing to risk being called an aggressor to keep that bitch’s homicidal son off the throne. Then my man in Kashfa tells me that he’s under Vialle’s protection. So I asked her about it. She says that it’s true and that you were present when it happened. She said she’d tell me about it after the operation Dworkin’s doing now, in case he needs her empathic abilities. But I can’t wait. Tell me what happened.”