“What now?” Jurt asked.

“This is it,” I replied “It has to be, don't you see? Once I got the message as to what was going on, it presented the real thing. I've got to act fast, too, I think-as soon as I figure just what-”

One of the stones beside the fireplace began to glow redly. It increased in intensity as I watched. There was no way that those embers could be doing it. Therefore...

I rushed forward under the influence of a powerful imperative. I heard Jurt shout something behind me, but his voice was cut off as I entered the room. I caught a whiff of Vialle's favorite perfume as I passed beside the bed. This was really Amber, I was certain, not just some shadowy facsimile thereof. I moved quickly to the right of the fireplace.

Jurt burst into the room behind me.

“Better come out fighting!” he cried.

I whirled to face him, shouted, “Shut up!” then raised a finger to my lips.

He crossed to my side, caught hold of my arm, and whispered hoarsely, “Borel's trying to materialize again! He might be solid and waiting by the time you leave!”

From the sitting room I heard Vialle's voice. “Is someone there?” she called.

I jerked my arm free of Jurt's grasp, knelt upon the hearth, and seized hold of the glowing stone. It appeared to be mortared in place but came loose easily when I drew upon it.

“How'd you know that one came free?” Jurt whispered.

“The glow,” I replied.

“What glow?” he asked.

I did not answer him but thrust my right hand into the opened area, hoping offhandedly there were no booby traps. The opening extended back for a good distance beyond the length of the stone. And there I felt it, suspended from peg or hook: a length of chain. I caught hold of it and drew it forth. I heard Jurt catch his breath beside me.

The last time I had seen it was when Random had worn it at Caine's funeral. It was the Jewel of Judgment that I held in my hand. I raised it quickly and slipped the chain over my head, letting that red stone fall upon my breast, just as the door to the sitting room was opened.

Placing my finger to my lips, once more I reached forward, caught hold of Jurt's shoulders, and turned him back toward the opened wall which let upon our trail. He began to protest; but I propelled him with a sharp push, and he moved off in that direction.

“Who's there?” I heard Vialle ask, and Jurt glanced back at me, looking puzzled.

I did not feel we could afford the time for my explaining by sign language or whisper that she was blind. So I gave him another push. Only this time he stepped to the side, extended his leg, slipped a hand behind my back, and pushed me forward. A brief expletive escaped my lips, and then I was falling. From behind me, I heard Vialle's “Who -” before her voice was cut off:

I tumbled onto the trail, managing to draw the dagger from my right boot as I fell. I rolled and came up with the point extended toward the figure of Borel, which seemed to have found its form once more.

He was smiling, his weapon yet undrawn, as he regarded me.

“There is no field of arms here,” he stated, “to provide you with a lucky accident such as you enjoyed when last we met. “

“Too bad,” I said.

“If I but gain that bauble you wear about your neck and deliver it to the place of the Logrus, I will be granted a normal existence, to replace my living counterpart-he who was treacherously slain by your father, as you pointed out.”

The vision of Amber's royal apartments had vanished. Jurt stood off the trail, near what had been its interface with this odd realm. “I knew I couldn't beat him,” he called out when he felt my glance, “but you took him once.”

I shrugged.

At this Borel turned toward Jurt.

“You would betray the Courts and the Logrus?” he asked him.

“On the contrary,” Jurt responded. “I may be saving them from a serious mistake.”

“What mistake might that be?”

“Tell him, Merlin. Tell him what you told me while we were climbing out of the deep freeze,” he said.

Borel glanced back at me.

“There's something funny about this entire setup,” I said. “I've a feeling it's all a duel between the Powers – the Logrus and the Pattern. Amber and the Courts may be secondary to the entire affair. You see-”

“Ridiculous!” he interrupted, drawing his weapon. “This is just made-up nonsense to avoid our duel.”

I tossed the dagger into my left hand and drew Grayswandir with my right.

“The hell with you then!” I said. “Come and get it!”

A hand fell upon my shoulder. And it kept right on falling with a sort of twist to it, spinning me into a downward spiral which threw me off to the left of the trail. From the corner of my eye, I saw that Borel had taken a step backward.

“You've a resemblance to Eric or to Corwin,” came a soft, familiar voice, “though I know you not. But you wear the Jewel, which makes your person too important to risk in a petty squabble.”

I came to a stop and turned my head. It was Benedict whom I beheld-a Benedict with two normal hands.

“My name is Merlin and I'm Corwin's son,” I said; “and this is a master duelist from the Courts of Chaos.”

“You appear ro be on a mission, Merlin. Be about it then,” Benedict said.

The point of Borel's blade flicked into a position about ten inches from my throat. “You are going nowhere,” he stated, “not with that jewel.”

There was no sound as Benedict's blade was drawn and moved to beat Borel's off its line.

“As I said; be on your way, Merlin,” Benedict told me.

I got to my feet, moved quickly out of range, passed them both cautiously.

“If you kill him,” Jurt said, “he can rematerialize after a period of time.”

“How interesting,” Benedict remarked, flicking off an attack and retreating slightly “How long a time?”

“Several hours.”

“And how much time will you need to complete whatever you're about?”

Jurt looked at me.

“I'm not certain,” I answered.

Benedict executed an odd little parry, followed by a strange shuffling step and a brief slashing attack. A button flew from Borel's shirt front.

“In that case I'll make this last for a time,” Benedict said. “Good luck, lad.”

He gave me a quick salute with the weapon, at which moment Borel attacked. Benedict used an Italianate sixte which threw both their points off to the side, advancing as he did so. He reached forward quickly then with his left hand and pulled the other's nose. Then he pushed him away, stepped back a pace, and smiled.

“What do you usually charge for lessons?” I overheard him asking as Jurt and I hurried down the path.

x x x

“I wonder how long it does take for one of the Powers to materialize a ghost,” Jurt said as we jogged toward the mountainous mass the trail entered.

“Several hours for Borel alone,” I said, “and if the Logrus wants the Jewel as badly as I'd guess, I'd think it would have summoned an army of ghosts if it could. I'm certain now that this place is very difficult for both Powers to reach. I get the feeling they can only manifest via the barest trickles of energy If that weren't the case, I'd never have gotten this far.”

Jurt reached out as if to touch the Jewel, apparently thought better of it, withdrew his hand.

“It seems you've definitely aligned yourself with the Pattern now,” he observed.

“Looks as if you have, too. Unless you're planning on stabbing me in the back at the last moment,” I said.

He chuckled. Then, “Not funny,” he said. “I've got to be on your side. I can see that the Logrus just created me as a disposable tool. I'd wind up on the scrap heap when the job's done. I've a feeling I might have dissipated already had it not been for the transfusion. So I'm with you, like it or not, and your back is safe.”

We ran on along the now-straight way, its terminus finally grown near. Jurt finally asked, “What is the significance of that pendant? The Logrus seems to want it badly.”