When she came to the Grand Curve she was a living flame: Her progress was very slow, but there was a relentless quality to it. Whatever the outcome, I knew that she was being changed, had been changed already, that the Pattern was inscribing itself upon her, and that she was very near to the end of its statement. I almost cried out as she seemed to stop for a moment, but the words died in my throat as she shuddered once, then continued. I wiped my brow on my sleeve as she approached the Final Veil. Whatever the outcome, she had proved her suspicions. Only a child of Amber could have survived as she had.

I do not know how long it took her to pierce the last Veil. Her effort became timeless, and I was caught up in that protracted moment. She was a burning study in extreme slow motion, the nimbus that enshrouded her lighting up the entire chamber like a great blue candle.

And then she was through and onto that final short arc, the last three steps of which may well be the most difficult part of the entire Pattern. Some sort of psychic surface tension seems joined with the physical inertia one encounters just before the point of emergence.

Again, I thought she had stoppped, but it was only an appearance. It was like watching someone doing tai chi, the painful slowness of that trio of paces. But she completed it and moved again. If the final step didn't kill her, then she was home free. Then we could talk...

That final moment went on and on and on. Then I saw her foot move forward and depart the Pattern. Shortly, the other foot followed and she stood panting at the center. “Congratulations!” I shouted.

She waved weakly with her right hand while slowly raising her left to cover her eyes. She stood thus for the a better part of a minute, and one who has walked the Pattern understands the feeling. I did not call out again, but let her recover, giving her the silence in which to enjoy her triumph.

The Pattern seemed to be glowing more brightly just then, as it often does immediately after being traversed. This gave a fairyland quality to the grotto-all blue light and shadow-and made a mirror of that small, still pool in the far corner where blind fish swim. I tried to think ahead to what this act might mean, for Coral, for Amber.... She straightened suddenly.

“I'm going to live,” she announced.

“Good,” I replied. “You have a choice now, you know.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You are now in a position to command the Pattern to transport you anywhere,” I explained. “So you could just have it deposit you back here again, or you could save yourself a long walk by having it return you to your suite right now. As much as I enjoy your company, I'd recommend the latter since you're probably pretty tired. Then you can soak in a nice warm bath and take your time dressing for dinner. I'll meet you in the dining room. Okay?”

I saw that she was smiling as she shook her head.

“I'm not going to waste an opportunity like this,'' she said.

“Listen, I know the feeling,” I told her. “But I think you should restrain yourself. Rushing off someplace weird could be dangerous, and coming back could be tricky when you haven't had any training in shadow walking.”

“It's just sort of a will and expectation thing, isn't it?” she asked. “You kind of impose images on the environment as you go along, don't you?”

“It's trickier than that,” I said. “You have to learn to capitalize on certain features as points of departure. Normally, one is accompanied on one's first shadow walk by someone with experience—”

“Okay, I get the idea.”

“Not enough,” I said. “Ideas are fine, but there's feedback, too. There's a certain feeling you get when it begins working. That can't be taught. It has to be experienced-and until you're sure of it, you should have someone along for a guide.”

“Seems like trial and error would do.”

“Maybe,” I answered. “But supposing you wound up in danger? That'd be a hell of a time to start learning. Kind of distracting—”

“All right. You made your point. Fortunately, I'm not planning on anything that would put me in such a position.”

“What are you planning?”

She straightened and gestured widely.

“Ever since I learned about the Pattern, there's been something I wanted to try if I got this far,” she said.

“What might that be?”

“I'm going to ask it to send me where I should go.”

“I don't understand.”

“I'm going to leave the choice up to the Pattern.”

I shook my head.

“It doesn't work that way,” I told her. “You have to give it an order to transport you.”

“How do you know that?”

“It's just the way it works.”

“Have you ever tried what I'm saying?”

“No. Nothing would happen.”

“Has anyone you know of ever tried it?”

“It would be a waste of time. Look, you're talking as if the Pattern is somehow sentient, is capable of coming to a decision on its own and executing it.”

“Yes,” she replied. “And it must know me real well after what I've just been through with it. So I'm just going to ask its advice and—”

“Wait!” I said.

“Yes?”

“On the off chance that something happens, how do you plan on getting back?”

“I'll walk, I guess. So you're admitting that something could happen?”

“Yes,” I said. “It's conceivable that you have an unconscious desire to visit a place, and that it will read that and take you there if you give a transport order. That won't prove that the Pattern is sentient just that it's sensitive. Now, if it were me standing them, I'd be afraid to take a chance like that. Supposing I have suicidal tendencies I'm not aware of? Or—”

“You're reaching,” she answered. “You're really reaching.”

“I'm just counseling you to play it safe. You have your whole life to go exploring. It would be silly to—”

“Enough!” she said. “My mind's made up, and that's it. It feels right. See you later, Merlin.”

“Wait!” I cried again. “All right. Do it if you must. But let me give you something first.”

“What?”

“A means of getting out of a tight spot in a hurry. Here.”

I withdrew my Trumps, shuffled out my own card. Then I unfastened my dagger and sheath from my belt. I wrapped my card around the haft and tied it there with my handkerchief.

“You have an idea how to use a Trump?”

“You just stare and think of the person till there's contact, don't you?”

“That'll do,” I said. “Here's mine: Take it with you. Call me when you want to come home, and I'll bring you back.”

I tossed it out across the Pattern, underhand. She caught it easily and hung it on her belt on the side opposite her own.

“Thanks,” she said, straightening. “I guess I'll give it a try now.”

“Just in case it really works, don't stay long. Okay?”

“Okay,” she answered, and she closed her eyes.

An instant later she was gone. Oh, my.

I moved to the edge of the Pattern and held my hand above it until I could feel the forces stirring there.

“You'd better know what you're doing,” I said. “I want her back.”

A spark shot upward and tickled my palm.

“You trying to tell me you're really sentient?”

Everything swirled about me. The dizziness passed in an instant, and the first thing I noticed then was that the lantern was beside my right foot. When I looked about I realized that I was standing on the other side of the Pattern from where I had been and was now near the door.

“I was within your field and I'm already attuned,” I said. “It was just my unconscious desire to get out.”

Then I hefted the lantern, locked the door behind me, `

and hung the key back on its hook. I still didn't trust the thing. If it had really wanted to be helpful, it would have sent me directly to my quarters and saved me all those stairs.

I hurried along the tunnel. It was by far the most interesting first date I'd ever had.