PATTERNS REPEAT THEMSELVES
Blood, Fire, Lightning, and Lyre
BRAND'S TALE: FIRE
The last thought, the last breath, was fire.
She touched me, taking the Jewel from my grasp.
And I fell into nothingness and died.
I waited in the Grove.
Some can make
waiting look easy. Gerard just sits and
goes to sleep. Benedict's mind rests as
if balanced on the edge of a metal blade, every breath in cadence. Corwin paces, restless, a certain amount of
steps this way and that. Llewella simply
observes, taking everything in her view
and examining it one small piece at a time, adding it to the whole.
I am not like
them.
I played with
the grass, pulling blades of it up at my whim.
I created a small bridge out of leaves for a passing ladybug. I hummed a little in the summer sunshine, and
occasionally closed my eyes, as if to take a nap or to ease the glow of the
sun. I changed positions maybe once
every four or five minutes. I am the
restless sort, the type who needs to do.
Not so much as Bleys, perhaps; he is the fire in motion.
I have learned
little of my power through patience.
Time was
meaningless, I remembered. This place
had been, would be, will be again.
Perhaps if I pulled up the turf it would have an imprint of Caine (and
that image brought the fire again to my throat.)
I waited.
The sun
stretched its way past the midday mark and slowly made its descent.
I attracted
one of the many dryads who frolicked amongst Arden's green. "Wherefore, whyfore loneliest?" she
asked, wrapping herself in the thorns of the nearest rosebush. Scratches left evergreen marks on her faintly
olive skin.
"I am not
lonely, Fair One," I said in my most comforting voice. They are fond of me, and so I am gentle with
them. I do not share the intense love
that Bleys does with them, nor the respect they have for Fiona, but I am
pleased by their occasional company.
"No
seeks?" she asked. Many of the fey
will pluck the language out of the land, but she seemed proud of her few words
of Thari.
I smiled at
her, and shook my head. "No
seeks," I repeated. "I wait
for," I carefully measured the phrase, "She who the even the Roses
call the Thorn." The Unicorn's
names were many amongst the fey, but to please my audience, I had to choose
carefully. The Unseelie's terms were
always the most honest, but there was poetry in the Seelie.
"Ahhhh." The dryad's eyes lit up. She bowed her head in some form of respect,
and wove even deeper into the bush. A
few drops of green blood were all that were left, as she twisted and -became-,
the way the fey could. I mentally
underlined an internal memo I had written years before about the differences of
shapeshifting between the fey and those of Thelbane.
I leaned back
against a tree, musing. Fiona claimed the
fey worshipped the Unicorn, much as the people of the city did. Bleys thought it some sort of generalized
respect for nobility. Dworkin laughed
and called it love, but he is sentimental when it comes to Her Horniness. I just pondered what Oberon's baby pictures
showed.
I felt the
Presence, first. A faint whisper at the
back of my neck, and I resisted the urge to reach out with my mind. I'm no fool; even the Tarots suggest
otherwise. I left one hand on
Werewindle, and held my breath. She
doesn't come when called, but if you're patient enough… you might stake out
where She drinks.
A whisper…
that's all you'll ever get of Her, if you're lucky. I'm not particularly flush with fortune. I knew better than to be taken in by any
prancing, mincing, fairytale hesitancy.
The Unicorn is a carnivore. Don't
forget that. Our predator blood is from
Her side of the Family.
She entered
the Grove, one soft hoofstep at a time.
She showed no trepidation. There
was no point in trying to hide, although for Her sake I remained still. It fit the moment, the atmosphere around
Her.
The mental
capitalization is a habit from studying with the Priests as a boy. She does have a certain air of…majesty. It's hard to explain; things change from
being in contact with Her. No, that's
not right. Perhaps it is merely that
things do -not- change, like She is the source of stasis, and at the same
time…fire.
The memory of
the Pattern burned in me, still. The
cold years will never quench that fever.
She dipped Her
head down, and looked at me. Green eyes,
just like mine.
I rose and
called Her by name.
You might ask
where I came by this little piece of information. If you made it worth my while, I might even
tell you what it cost. I know who else
knows it. It's something you can See, if
you look into the depths. It was enough
to draw Her attention.
Silver. She dripped silver and gold before
changing. I knew it could be done, but I
had not understood the transformation. I
had no time for the frustration of my youth, the wish to know Power and
glory. She stood before me.
I repeat: She
stood before me.
She stood as a
woman with red-gold hair and skin like the moon. Those are the only details I remember from
that first moment. Her voice was in chords,
triplicate. "You are a ghost, a
shade, a dream." It was the voice
of mothers, maidens, and goddesses…
"A
wish," I agreed. It takes a certain
amount of bravado to meet your Maker and crack jokes. It would be second nature to Bleys. For me, it was a desperate measure.
She stepped
closer. "What is your desire?"
She asked.
There was no
way to plan for this. I had had a
million dreams of what I would say to Her, but I never would have guessed the
desperation that drove me to answer her honestly.
She laughed.
A thousand
golden kisses of sunshine, and that only begins to describe the sound. It did not anger me, for it was not the
laughter of derision, but the laughter that only certain innocence, certain
immunity to awkwardness can provide.
She danced
before me, moving a couple of steps closer, and I could feel myself stretching
towards Her, wanting that golden feeling at every tip…and She moved a couple of
steps back. I felt my hands clench with
a certain sense of surprise, as if I had reached out unknowingly.
"Are you
a hunter?" She asked, suddenly. One
voice of the three seemed more prominent.
Vast in timbre, and cultured, it was a voice that reminded me of my
mother in Court.
I shook my
head. "I am merely a dreamer, a
poet…" I trailed off. "A
wish," I repeated.
She reached
out for my hands, and wrapped Her fingers against my wrists. She looked up into my eyes, and they were
indeed the same green. On me, they are the indifference of a cat. On Her, it was the green of Arden, and the
lush provisions of Paradise.
My hands felt
as if they were radiating heat. She
looked down at them, suddenly, releasing my wrists, and stepping back.
"Are you a lover?" She asked, running a hand
through Her hair. The younger voice, this
time… it sounded disconcertingly like Fiona.
Hubris won
out, and I smiled. My grin was the,
"Try me," leer I had seen so many times on Bleys. She caught just the hint of it, and Her face
changed. It became feral, a wild gleam
in those green eyes. She said nothing,
but it sparked into a smile.
I realized
that my breath had caught, and had been held, and I could not let it out while
I was still ensnared by Her gaze. I felt
faint, dizzy…no, raging… drops of sweat were beginning to form behind my ears. I could hear only the distant sounds of
Arden; the rustling of wind through the trees, and birds calling out warnings.
She moved
without sound, with a speed reminiscent of Benedict's blades. I was ill prepared to catch Her as She
stirred against me, and Her lips touched mine without any foundation in
thought. They left almost as soon as
they met, with the hint of teeth brushing and bruising my mouth. She tasted like blood, and like earth, and
like the source of life itself.
I could feel
Her power between us, raising every hair on my body briefly with a magical
charge. It smoldered through me, heavy
and thick. The vertigo caught me again,
and I reached out to ground myself against something. I heard a whisper of Her breath, as She
stepped away.
"Pain."
The last voice, the one I remember from the Abyss as She snatched the Jewel
from above me, leaving me in darkness and cold.
I realized, opening my eyes again, that it was a question.
"Yes,"
I answered it. "It's like being
born," I said. I was shaking. The depth of my answer surprised me, and it
left silence in the Grove once more.
I float here,
between times. I cannot hear the
screaming, but I know that something in me still weeps. It was born in fire and lightning, and was
tempered by song. It was not satisfied
with anything less than blood.
"Who are you?"
"I am your Uncle," I said, carefully. The knife glittered in my palm, runes touched
by starlight.
"From Amber?" The boy's question was
suspicious. I sensed his inquisitiveness,
his youth, and his hunger for the touch of Family. Ah, dear Moire, you taught him well.
"Indeed. I
have heard many good things from your Aunt Llewella, and I wished to extend an
invitation. Perhaps you would like to
see the Golden Realm."
Not well enough, Moire.
"I would like that," he said, hesitantly. "How do I…"
"Just take my hand." I could hear the blade sing.
"Dreams,"
I heard Her say, and I was brought back to the Grove. She was lying across from me, Her head
resting on one hand. I felt my throat
tighten, and I could still taste blood.
"Am I
dreaming all this?" I asked. I
sounded like a child, but a child has the freedom to ask questions an adult
would not.
"Is that
your wish?" All three voices
returned.
I felt angry,
suddenly, and I moved towards Her. Red
drops marked my passage across the grass. "What kind of game is
this?" I demanded. Red drops fell
from my throat, and I couldn't breathe.
As I fell, Her green eyes met mine.
I remembered
the demon witch.
"Jasra,"
she hissed, as I spoke the words of naming.
She lunged for me, and I gave her the taste of flesh. My blood ran freely, dripping through her
teeth, and I saw that her thirsts echoed mine.
Her horn drips silver and gold into my veins. I can hear Her heartbeat match mine.
"Grandfather,
I…" I reached out to Dworkin, but he turned away from me.
He hissed at
me. "You stink of treachery and
lies."
"Is it
treachery to ask questions? Is it lying
to think there is more?" I advanced
on him, carefully. He growled a warning,
and I stepped back.
"Go back to your father. I have taught you all I will."
"Then
there is more to learn?" I pleaded.
He laughed at
me, and it was a terrible laugh. I stood
in the force of it, listening to its waves beat against my mind. "Go," he repeated, and he banished
me in a swirl of light and colour, and I was somewhere else.
I didn't recognize the noise at first, as the thrumming strangeness rose and fell against my cheek. Almost a growl, but not quite. I realized She was purring.