my life had been relatively peaceful for eight years-not counting april
thirtieths, when someone invariably tried to kill me. outside of that, my academic
career with its concentration on computer science went well enough and my four
years employment at grand design proved a rewarding experience, letting me use
what i'd learned in a situation i liked while i labored on a project of my own on
the side. i had a good friend in luke raynard, who worked for the same company, in
sales. i sailed my little boat, i jogged regularly.
it all fell apart this past april 30, just when i thought things were about to come together. my pet project, ghostwheel, was built; i'd quit my job, packed my gear and was ready to move on to greener shadows. i'd stayed in town this long only because that morbidly fascinating day was near, and this time i intended to discover who was behind the attempts on my life and why.
at breakfast that morning luke appeared with a message from my former
girlfriend, julia. her note said that she wanted to see me again. so i stopped by
her place, where i found her dead, apparently killed by the same doglike beast
which then attacked me. i succeeded in destroying the creature. a quick search of
the apartment before i fled the scene fumed up a slim packet of strange playing
cards, which i took along with me.
yes. i am a sorcerer. i am merlin, son of corwin of amber and dara of the
courts of chaos, known to local friends and acquaintances as merle corey: bright,
charming, witty, athletic... go read castiglione and lord byron for particulars,
as i'm modest, aloof and reticent, as well.
the cards proved to be genuine magical objects, which seemed appropriate once
i learned that julia had been keeping company with an occultist named victor
melman after we had broken up. a visit to this gentleman's studio resulted in his
attempting to kill me in a ritual fashion. i was able to free myself from the
constraints of the ceremony and question him somewhat, before local conditions and
my enthusiasm resulted in his death. so much for rituals.
i'd learned enough from him to realize that he'd been but a cat's-paw.
someone else had apparently put him up to the sacrifice bit-and it seemed quite
possible that the other person was the one responsible for julia's death and my
collection of memorable april thirtieths.
i had small time to reflect upon these matters, though, because i was bitten
(yes, bitten) shortly thereafter by an attractive red-haired woman who
materialized in melman's apartment, following my brief telephone conversation with
her in which i'd tried to pose as melman. her bite paralyzed me, but i was able to
depart before it took full effect by employing one of the magical cards i'd found
at julia's place. it bore me into the presence of a sphinx, which permitted me to
recover so that it could play that silly riddle game sphinxes love so well because
they get to eat you when you lose. all i can say about it is that this particular
sphinx was a bad sport.
anyhow, i returned to the shadow earth where i'd been making my home to
discover that melman's place had burned down during my absence. i tried phoning
luke, because i wanted to have dinner with him, and learned that he had checked
out of his motel, leaving me a message indicating that he had gone to new mexico
on business and telling me where he'd be staying. the desk clerk also gave me a
blue-stone ring luke had left behind, and i took it with me to return when i saw
questioned me, giving the impression that luke had proposed some business deal and
that he wanted to be assured luke was reliable and could deliver. after dinner,
luke and i went for a drive in the mountains.
martinez followed us and started shooting as we stood admiring the night.
perhaps he'd decided luke was not reliable or couldn't deliver. luke surprised me
by drawing a weapon of his own and shooting martinez. then an even stranger thing
happened. luke called me by name-my real name, which i'd never told him-and cited
my parentage and told me to get into the car and get the hell out. he emphasized
his point by placing a shot in the ground near my feet. the matter did not seem
open to discussion so i departed. he also told me to destroy those strange trumps
that had saved my life once already. and i'd learned on the way up that he'd known
i didn't go far. i parked downhill and returned on foot. luke was gone. so
was martinei s body. luke did not return to the hotel, that night or the next day,
so i checked out and departed. the only person i was sure i could trust, and who
actually might have some good advice for me, was bill roth. bill was an attorney
who lived in upstate new york, and he had been my father's best friend. i went to
visit him, and i told him my story.
bill got me to wondering even morc about luke. luke, by the way, is a big,
smart, red-haired natural athlete of uncanny prowess-and though we'd been friends
for many years i knew next to nothing (as bill pointed out) concerning his
a neighboring lad named george hansen began hanging out near bill's place,
asking strange questions. i received an odd phone call, asking similar questions.
both interrogators seemed curious as to my mother's name. naturally, i lied. the
fact that my mother is a member of the dark aristocracy of the courts of chaos was
none of their business. but the caller spoke my language, thari, which made me
curious enough to propose a meeting and a trade-off of information that evening in
the bar of the local country club.
but my uncle random, king of amber, called me home before that, while bill and i were out hiking. george hansen, it turned out, was following us and wanted to come along as we shifted away across the shadows of reality. tough; he wasn't invited. i took bill along because i didn't want to leave him with anyone acting that peculiar.
i learned from random that my uncle caine was dead, of an assassin's bullet,
and that someone had also tried to kill my uncle bleys but only succeeded in
wounding him. the funeral service for caine would be the following day.
i kept my date at the country club that evening, but my mysterious
interrogator was nowhere in sight. all was not lost, however, as i made the
acquaintance of a pretty lady named meg devlin-and, one thing leading to another,
i saw her home and we got to know each other a lot better. then, at a moment when
i would have judged her thoughts to be anywhere but there, she asked me my
mother's name. so, what the hell, i told her. it did not come to me until later
that she might really have been the person i'd gone to the bar to meet.
our liaison was terminated prematurely by a call from the lobby-from a man purportedly meg's husband. i did what any gentleman would do. i got the hell out fast.
my aunt fiona, who is a sorceress (of a different style from my own), had not
approved of my date. and apparently she approved even less of luke, because she
asked me whether i had a picture of him after i'd told her somewhat concerning
him. i showed her a photo i had in my wallet, which included luke in the group.
i'd have sworn she recognized him from somewhere, though she wouldn't admit it.
but the fact that she and her brother bleys both disappeared from amber that night
would seem more than coincidental.
the pace of events was accelerated even more after that. a crude attempt at
knocking off most of the family with a thrown bomb was made the next day,
following caine's funeral. the would-be assassin escaped. later, random was upset
at a brief demonstration on my part of the power of the ghostwheel, my pet
project, my hobby, my avocation during those years at grand design. ghostwheel is
a-well, it started out as a computer that required a different set of physical
laws to operate than those i'd learned in school. it involved what might be called
magic. but i found a place where it could be built and operated, and i'd
constructed it there. it was still programming itself when i'd left it. it seemed
to have gone sentient, and i think it scared random. he ordered me to go and turn
it off. i didn't much like the idea, but i departed.
i was followed in my passage through shadow; i was harassed, threatened and
even attacked. i was rescued from a fire by a strange lady who later died in a
lake. i was protected from vicious beasts by a mysterious individual and saved
from a bizarre earthquake by the same person-who turned out to be luke. he
accompanied me to the final barrier, for a confrontation with ghostwheel. my
creation was a bit irritated with me and banished us by means of a shadow-storm-a
thing it is not fun to be caught in, with or without an umbrella. i delivered us
from the vicissitudes by means of one of the trumps of doom, as i'd dubbed the odd
pasteboards from julia's apartment.
we wound up outside a blue crystal cave, and luke took me in. good old luke.
after seeing to my needs he proceeded to imprison me. when he told me who he was,
i realized that it was a resemblance to his father which had upset fiona when
she'd seen his photo. for luke was the son of brand, assassin and arch traitor,
who had damn near destroyed the kingdom and the rest of the universe along with it
some years back. fortunately, caine had killed him before he'd accomplished his
designs. luke, i learned then, was the one who'd killed caine, to avenge his
father. (and it turned out he'd gotten the news of his father's death on an april
thirtieth and had had a peculiar way of observing its anniversary over the years.)
like random, he too had been impressed by my ghostwheel, and he told me that i was
to remain his prisoner, as i might become necessary in his eforts to gain control
of the machine, which he felt would be the perfect weapon for destroying the rest
of the family.
he departed to pursue the matter, and i quickly discovered that my powers were canceled by some peculiar property of the cave, leaving me with no one to talk to but you, frakir, and no one here for you to strangle...
i walked back to my quarters, meaning that section of the caves where i had cast my sleeping bag. i sat down on the bag, a heavy brown one, uncorked a wine bottle and took a drink. i had worked up a sweat hacking away at the wall.
frakir stirred upon my wrist then, unwound herself partway and slithered into
the palm of my left hand, to coil around the two blue chips i still held. she
knotted herself about them, then dropped to hang and swing pendulum-like. i put
the bottle aside and watched. the arc of her swing paralleled the lengthwise
direction of the tunnel i now called home. the swinging continued for perhaps a
full minute. then she withdrew upward, halting when she came to the back of my
hand. she released the chips at the base of my third linger and returned to her
normal hidden position about my wrist.
seen against skin, they were similar in appearance to the stone in that ring
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