16.
Elektra.
Dad just shook his head and rolled his eyes when I told him of my appointment to Random’s cabinet. He agreed that the King of Amber had made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, and, in fact, agreed so quickly that it made me wonder if he’d known all about it and given his consent beforehand. He even suggested that I’d move to Amber at once, to get acquainted, as he put it. All I could do was to helplessly watch Fiona’s net closing tighter and tighter around me. I figured I’d spend a few days packing and then Dad would lead the train toward Amber, as I wasn’t sure which changes should be made in Shadow to get to there, but this proved unnecessary. Next morning after breakfast Dad ordered one of the huge paintings of the Castle Amber grounds hanging in our formal dining room – his own works of course – to be taken down, carried upstairs and installed in the hall close to my rooms. He put his hands on the painting, his fingers caressing the canvas lightly, his body tensing, his eyes closed, his lips whispering an incantation I haven’t heard before. I could see his hands glowing bright white, the glow spreading over the canvas and then it suddenly gained dimensions, and there it was – a portal into the yard right next to one of the back entrances of the Castle, large enough to bring a mount through. I often wondered why Dad had done enormous work of painting Amber landscapes in such detail and on such a huge scale, but never had it occurred to me that they had Trump qualities. What other tricks does he have up his sleeve? Dad explained that the portal would decay in a few days, but the permanent gateways Random had spoken about were indeed possible. Were it up to me, I would’ve just marched one or two of our shock regiments through and got it over with, but I knew Dad would do nothing of the kind, so I didn’t even mention it.
Even with the portal engaged, moving proved to be an affair both troublesome and tiresome. My presence was required seemingly everywhere at once, as most of my girls don’t speak Thari and even those who do still couldn’t get it straight with Amber maintenance people. I couldn’t understand why Viss would abandon me just when I needed her most, but apparently she was nowhere to be found. By the early evening, my head splitting of a never-ending shouting match with the fool Castellan and his moronic clerks, I simply ran away and hid in the Castle library.
With my hands shaking, I retrieve the remnants of brandy from Random’s secret compartment and gulp it all before I start calming down. Of course, I had no chance to look at the Trumps in display cases when I ran into Random the other night. I open the closest one – these are the Trumps of different places in Amber City, judging by style, mostly drawn by Merlin. There are some monuments and some rather nice houses, apparently of nobles and the city market and the docks and some rather shady taverns. Another drink seems like a very good idea, but the brandy bottle is empty, and I know that the moment I show my face outside, I’ll be immediately captured and thrown back into the shark pool. I concentrate on one of the Trumps depicting a gloomy narrow street and a two-story house with a large sign reading “Bloody Andy’s.”
I take a table in the dark corner hoping that my moving attire – a plain dark brown dress and a black kerchief –would fit just fine in the surroundings, which in fact turned out to be a correct assumption. Of course some patrons ‘got ideas’ about me, but after the first few advances proved quite unsuccessful, I was finally left alone. So there I am, sitting in the dark corner with a mug of ale watching the sailors flirting with maids and thinking my thoughts, when I suddenly hear my name. It was just a whisper, so at first, I thought I misheard something, but then it’s repeated again, and the sound definitely comes from the next table, even further in the corner, occupied by two rather unremarkable young men. Not as I’m overly surprised – apparently some of the Castle employees involved in my moving stopped by for a drink after their shift – rather annoyed, but for the sake of appearances I nod to them slightly and use one of my minor charming smiles. My surprise comes when they broadly grin back and raise their mugs in my direction – not exactly a way a Royal Princess would expect to be greeted by the subjects. I ignore them, of course, who knows what kind of customs they’ve under Random, but both are already at my table taking seats on both sides of me. Suddenly I realize I’ve no weapons and I’m no longer in Shadow where I didn’t need any.
“And how are we tonight, sweetie?”
“I… hmm… I don’t know how you’re, but I was just fine… just a moment ago.”
“A tease, uh?”
“Listen, I just couldn’t help to overhear some of your talk and… hhm… thought I recognized a name…”
“And what name that might be, my pretty?” He’s making some complex sign with his fingers looking at me expectantly, but I’ve no idea what a proper response should be.
“Well… you did mention Elektra…”
They’re very fast and strong too. Before I know it I’m dragged from my table through a door in the dark corner which I haven’t even noticed till then, and into some dimly lit hallway. I feel the wall with my back and an uncomfortably sharp point with my belly.
“What… what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Trying to talk my way out of it seems like a reasonable first choice. Not as I’ve got many others though.
“What d’you know of Elektra, wench?”
“Hmm… Quite a lot, to tell you the truth,” I suppress a giggle, entirely unwarranted of course by my current situation.
“Keep talking!”
“Hmm… for one, I know she happens to be around at this very moment.”
A taller guy withdraws the knife, then pushes me into the light of the lantern and shoves a piece of cupboard in my face. “You’ve seen Her?”
It is a rather rudely drawn caricature depicting a hunchbacked bearded creature with flowing white hair and large breasts. “By… By the grace of Unicorn… who… what’s this?”
“T’is Lady Elektra, daughter of Lord Brand... and you’re a lying slut!” He spits on the floor right in front of me. At first I decide he’s mocking me, but when I see that he’s deadly earnest I burst into what, if not the greatest laughter of my life, is pretty close to it, and simply can’t stop, no matter what they intend to do with me. How wrong I was thinking there was none left in me after my day’s work.
“Come on, Gant, leave her be, she’s either drunk or mad, or most prolly both,” says a shorter man.
“Wait… hahaha… wait… I’m sorry… hehehe… it’s just too much for one day… hehehe… does it work?”
“What does?”
“The… tru….hahaha… trump!”
“Not now, but on the day of Lady Elektra’s coming it shall.”
“Imbeciles!” Finally I manage to somehow catch my breath. “This is Dworkin with tits! I’m Elektra, daughter of Brand, and I’m already here!”
“Blasphemy!”
“Impostor!”
Not one but two knives flash in the dangerous proximity, but by the light, I’ve an advantage. I’m always careful to avoid even a casual eye contact, as I know too well how uncomfortable it makes most people feel, but when I really stare…
The knives drop on the floor, my assailants backing away from me, shuddering, breathing hard. “I dunno who or what she’s, Gant,” the shorter man’s voice is trembling, “but let’s get the hell outta here.”
The taller man seems in total agreement, but I am too intrigued to just let them go. I reach forward grabbing each one by the wrist. “You aren’t going anywhere, you two morons! I’m telling you I’m your Lady Elektra, and I’m going to prove it to you right now!”
Familiar to the last detail, our second floor hallway snaps against the Pattern image, breaks into a thousand jigsaw puzzle pieces and we’re there. I drag my stunned companions down the hallway, around the corner, right to the slightly opened door of Dad’s study. I know he’ll be in at this hour, studying the ancient manuscripts, and I can hardly imagine an Amberite, who’d be unfamiliar with Brand’s likeness, even though Dad somewhat aged in the last few years.
“Look inside, fools! Who do you think that is?”
“Llllord Bbbrand…”
As I’m pulling them in, he looks up from his manuscript. “What’s going on, Ele? I thought you were in Amber.”
“Ooh, I’m back for a little while, brought a couple of friends to show around. Sorry didn’t know you were in, Dad. Move along, guys! Dad’s busy…”
I don’t give them a break till I reach the library on the other end of the hallway, where I finally let them go and drop into my favorite armchair by the fireplace, under the green suit of armor – Bleys’ present for my 19th birthday – hanging on the wall. “Well, believe me now?”
Both are on their hands and knees and crawling toward me with an unmistakable intention to kiss my shoe.
“Please forgive, Lady Elektra.”
“Be merciful, Lady Elektra.”
It takes me some time and it isn’t easy, but finally I manage to get them off their knees and into the chairs, and glasses in their hands and wine in the glasses. “So what’s the story?”
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