“And if we're successful, she'll turn on Amber afterward.”

“Not at all,” he said. “That's the beauty of my plan.”

“I don't want to hear about it.”

“Because you already know you'll agree, right? I just figured a way to solve all your problems. Give her the Keep after it's liberated, as a kind of peace offering, to forget her differences with you guys.”

“Just hand her this terrible power?”

“If she were going to use it against you, she'd have done it a long time ago. She's afraid to employ it in the extreme. With Kashfa down the tubes, she'll grab at the chance to salvage something. That's where the value lies.”

“You really think so?”

“Better Queen of the Keep than a coatrack in Amber.”

“Damn you, Luke. You always make the stupidest things sound sort of attractive.”

“It's an art,” he replied. “What do you say?”

“I've got to think about it,” I said.

“Better think fast, then. Jurt may be bathing in that glow right now.”

“Don't pressure me, man. I said I'll think about it. This is only one of my problems. I'm going to eat dinner now and mull things over.”

“Want to tell me about your other problems, too? Maybe I can work them into the package some way.”

“No, damn it! I'll call you back... soon. Okay?”

“Okay. But I'd better be around when you snap Mom out of it, to kind of smooth things over. You have figured out how to break the spell, haven't you?”

“Yes.”

“Glad to know that. I wasn't sure how to do it, and I can stop working on it now. I'm going to finish here and go shape up the troops,” he said, eyeing the lady in the bikini who had just emerged from the pool. “Call me.”

“Okay,” I said, and he was gone.

Damn. Amazing. No wonder Luke kept winning those sales awards. I had to admit it was a good pitch, despite my feelings about Jasra. And Random had not ordered me to keep her a prisoner. Of course, he had not had much opportunity to tell me anything the last time we had been together. Would she really behave as Luke said, though? It made a sort of sense, but then people seldom keep company with rationality at times when they should.

I passed along the hallway and decided to use the back stair. As I made the turn, I saw that there was a figure standing near the top. It was a woman, and she was looking the other way. She had on a full-length red-and yellow gown. Her hair was very dark and she had lovely shoulders...

She turned when she heard my tread, and I saw that it was Nayda. She studied my face.

“Lord Merlin,” she said, “can you tell me where my sister is? I understand she went off with you earlier.”

“She was admiring some art, and then she had a little errand she wanted to run afterward,” I replied. “I'm not sure exactly where she was going, but she gave the impression she'd be back pretty soon.”

“All right,” she said. “It's just that it's getting near to dinnertime, and we'd expected her to be joining us. Did she enjoy her afternoon?”

“I believe she did,” I said.

“She's been a bit moody recently. We were hoping this trip would cheer her up. She was looking forward to it quite a bit.”

“She seemed pretty cheerfulll when I left her,” I admitted.

“Oh, where was that?”

“Near here,” I said.

“Where all did you go?”

“We had a long walk in and about town,” I explained. “I showed her a bit of the palace, also.”

“Then she's in the palace right now?”

“She was the last time I saw her. But she might have stepped out.”

“I see,” she said. “I'm sorry I didn't really get to talk to you at any length earlier. I feel as if I've known you for a long while.”

“Oh?” I said. “Why is that?”

“I read through your file several times. It's kind of fascinating.”

“File?”

“It's no secret that we keep files on people we're likely to encounter in our line of work. There's a file on everyone in the House of Amber, of course, even those who don't have much to do with diplomacy.”

“I'd never thought about it,” I said, “but it figures.”

“Your early days are glossed over, of course, and your recent troubles are very confusing.”

“They're confusing to me, too,” I said. “You trying to update the file?”

“No, just curious. If your problems have ramifications that may involve Begma, we have an interest in them.”

“How is it that you know of them at all?”

“We have very good intelligence sources. Small kingdoms often do.”

I nodded.

“I won't press you on your sources, but we're not having a fire sale on classified data.”

“You misunderstand me,” she said. “I'm not trying to update that file either. I was trying to discover whether I might be able to offer you assistance.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I told her. “I can't really think of any way you could help me, though.”

She smiled, showing what seemed a set of perfect teeth.

“I can't be more precise without knowing more,” she said. “But if you decide that you do want help-or if you just want to talk-come and see me.”

“Well taken,” I said. “I'll see you at dinner.”

“Later, too, I hope,” she said, as I passed her and turned down the hall.

What had she meant by that last bit? I wondered. Was she talking assignation? If so, her motives seemed awfully transparent. Or was she merely expressing her desire for information? I was not certain.

As I passed along the hallway in the direction of my rooms I noted an odd lighting phenomenon ahead of me: A bright white band about six or eight inches in width ran up both walls, across the ceiling, and over the floor. I slowed as I neared it, wondering whether someone had introduced a new method of illuminating the place in my absence.

As I stepped over the band on the floor, everything disappeared, except for the light itself, which resolved into a perfect circle, flipped once about me and settled on a level with my feet, myself at its center. The world appeared beyond the circle, suddenly, and it looked as if it were made of green glass formed into a dome. The surface on which I stood was reddish, irregular and moist in the pale light. It was not until a large fish swam by that I realized I might be underwater, standing on a ridge of coral.

“This is pretty as all hell,” I said, “but I was trying to get to my apartment.”

“Just showing off a bit,” came a familiar voice which sounded eerily all about my magic circle. “Am I a god?”

“You can call yourself whatever you want,” I said. "Nobody will disagree with you.”

“It might be fun being a god.”

“Then what does that make me?” I asked.

“That's a difficult theological question.”

“Theological, my ass. I'm a computer engineer, and you know I built you, Ghost.”

A sound like a sigh filled my submarine cell.

“It's hard to get away from one's roots.”

“Why try? What's wrong with roots? All of the best plants have them.”

“Pretty bloom above, mire and muck below.”

“In your case it's metal and an interesting cryogenic setup-and quite a few other things-all of them very clean.”

“Maybe it's mire and muck that I need, then.”

“You feeling all right, Ghost?”

“I'm still trying to find myself.”

“Everyone goes through phases like that. It'll pass.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“When? How? Why?”

“It would be cheating to tell. Besides, it's different for everyone.”

A whole school of fish swam by-little black-and-redstriped guys.

“I can't quite swing the omniscience business...” Ghost said after a time.

“That's okay. Who needs it?” I said.

“...And I'm still working on omnipotence.”

“That one's hard, too,” I agreed.

“You're very understanding, Dad.”

“I try. You got any special problems?”

“You mean, apart from the existential?”

“Yeah.”

“No. I brought you here to warn you about a fellow named Mandor. He's—”