were the storms created?" Aber asked. "Did Dad really send them to destroy Chaos, the way everyone says?"
"If he created them, it was by accident." I shrugged. "When he retraced the Pattern, it destroyed all the old Shadows and made new ones. The force of that destruction must have carried as far as Chaos.
I can't think of any other explanation."
"The Pattern - are you sure he made it correctly this time?"
"Yes. I can feel it in the back of my mind, the way you must feel the Logrus."
"Really?" he brightened. "That is good news! Since you're determined to keep it, there's only one thing to do."
"What's that?"
"Learn to control its powers. Maybe Dad…"
His voice trailed off as he looked at our father again. He leaned closer, studying the bruises, cuts, and split lip. At least the swelling had started to go down.
"What happened to Dad?" he asked. "It looks like a ton of rocks fell on his head."
"Making the new Pattern did something to his mind. He's been acting crazy. He tried to kill me this morning, and I had to defend myself."
"So you did this?"
"Afraid so," I said half apologetically.
He whistled, then looked at me with new respect. "Except for Locke, Dad was the best swordsman in the family; You must be even better."
I didn't deny it. Let him think so… a dangerous reputation never hurt anyone.
Aber continued, "All I can say is - good for you! About time someone put Dad in his place. I only wish I'd been there to see it. Do you really think he'll be okay?"
"Sure," I said with more confidence than I felt. "He just needs time and rest. We've already sent for a doctor. Just a matter of waiting for him to show up."
"Good."
"How about you?" I asked. "Are you feeling better now?"
He thought for a second. "Actually, yes."
"Up for a drink?"
"Almost." Aber stood unsteadily and began straightening his clothes and brushing himself off.
Clouds of yellow dust puffed out from his pants and shirt. "So, where have you been, Oberon? I've been trying to reach you for weeks. I had just about given up!"
I shrugged apologetically. "Time runs differently here. I don't think it's been more than a few hours since I last saw you. At least, that's what it feels like. How long has it been since you've seen me?"
"I'm not sure." He frowned. "At least four or five weeks. Maybe longer. I've been on the run most of that time just trying to stay alive. The shai le'one finally cornered me in the Beyond, right after the last of the storms let up. That's when I started trying every card I had left."
"Did you reach Freda? Anyone else?"
"No. I couldn't reach anyone except you."
I felt my heart plunge.
"If Freda's been hurt or killed…" I said.
"I imagine King Uthor has her, but…" He shrugged. "I don't know. She wasn't publicly executed, at least. Not like Mattus and Titus."
"What!" I stared at him, shocked. "When? How?"
"Uthor put them to the sword about two weeks ago." At my horrified expression, he went on grimly, "Their heads are on pikes outside the palace gates. I'm surprised Blaise didn't tell you."
"No, she didn't say anything." I swallowed hard. Two brothers, dead. Freda, my favorite sister, probably captured. And all the others… Right now, Uthor might be torturing them… or worse. I remembered how Lord Zon had used my other brothers' blood to spy on Dad in Juniper.
My thoughts turned back to Freda. Just a few hours ago, as these Shadows reckoned time, she had tried to contact me through my Trump. Had I missed my chance to save her? By not answering, had I gotten her captured or killed?
Unfortunately, there was nothing I could have done at the time - those unicorns would have killed us both if I'd tried to bring her through to join me. I sighed.
"Let me try her now," I said.
"I just did. But go ahead."
Quickly, I pulled out my deck of Trumps, riffled through them until I got to her card, and held it up. I concentrated hard, staring at her picture.
Nothing.
"Well?" Aber asked.
I just shook my head. Lowering
J. S. Cooper, Helen Cooper