Dream’s End

Some of my finest, if most difficult, memories were of the years I spent under my Grandmother’s tutelage. Most of that time I won’t put to paper; somehow I feel it would be a violation of contract, even if no one else will ever read this book. Unless I’m dead, of course…perhaps I’ll leave it to Aunt Flora as a token of thanks. But I digress. I was speaking of memory, and of my darkest memory from which springs so many nightmares and so much hate. And so much regret.

I was in Manhome, a shadow world poor in magic, being that any I used there had to be what I’d brought along with me. Grandmother had sent me on vacation, as it were, to practice under annoying and dangerous conditions as well as to give her time for some other projects. Actually, I was enjoying my stay, and getting quite good at various methods of manipulation.

Without warning, Grandmother contacted me, explaining that she had something she had to ‘deal with’ in person right away, and would I come ‘home’ and mind the tower for her? Of course I agreed at once.

She left almost immediately, with no explanation (not that I’d expected one) and I was left to watch over things. This grew old very fast, and out of boredom I went to the tower. My first thought was to check on my grave and see if it was undisturbed or visited. I noted the complete absence of flowers with some mirth, then went on to look at mother’s grave. It was the same as when I’d last left it, so with a sigh I took to reading and scrying alternately out of boredom.

Finally, it became apparent something was very wrong out in shadow. Places to scry were almost shrinking, and fewer and fewer places were actually there to look at. Fascinated, I kept at it for hours, probably days, until I came to the heart of the problem.

It seemed that everyone who was anyone had migrated to the Courts, where there was a massive battle tide sweeping across the plain?…I think it was a plain…rather confusing would be a better name for it. As I scanned across the milling hordes and rushing figures in the flashing uncertain light, I caught sight of my cousin Zack. He was in an area that was blatantly an encampment for non-combatants, but was still under attack. His ghostly warriors were holding the attackers at bay, but I began to feel uneasy. If Zack was there, that meant…there. Benedict, leading the armies, of course. We seemed badly outnumbered down there, and I could only hope that whatever Grandmother had gone to take care of, it at least wasn’t aiding the enemy.

I continued to scan, now looking for family in specific, when I caught sight of Corwin, trying to be furtive. Frowning, I watched him sneak up into the cliffs, so I scanned across the area to see what he was up to. That would be the point I think my heart froze.

Brand stood at the edge of a cliff, the Abyss yawning behind his back and the Jewel of Judgement pulsing near his throat. Circling him in were half a dozen people, Random and Fiona among them. Numbly I saw he had Dierdre pulled close in front of him, a dagger’s edge pushed cruelly into her throat and it’s path marked by a thin line of blood. I focused in on that group intently, now paying attention to sound as well and cursing the insurmountable distance between us.

Random turned slightly towards Fiona, his voice soft, "Is there nothing more you can do, Fi?" I heard him ask.

"I can hold him here", she answered, "and at this range, I can slow his efforts at weather control. But that is all. He’s got some attunement with it and I do not. He also has proximity going for him. Anything else I might try, he can counter. But without the Jewel, we’re dead. That’s the only thing that might hold back the stormfront."

I saw Random gnaw at his lip, edgy.

Brand spoke to them then and ice crawled up and down my spine at the sound of that voice, that not-quite–Brand edge to his words. His eyes were cold and vicious, and I shuddered to see him like that again.

"Put down your weapons" he called to them. "Do it now or Dierdre’s dead."

"Kill her" Random called back "and you lose the only thing that’s keeping you alive. Do it, and I’ll show you where I’ll put my weapon." I heard a low hissing sound, and it took a moment to realize it came from my own throat.

Brand was muttering to himself, his eyes glazed in that look of self-argument I’d learned too well. "Okay. I will start by mutilating her" he countered.

Random spat. "Come on!" he said. "She can regenerate as well as the rest of us. Find a threat that means something, or shut up and fight it out!"

I saw Brand go still, in that inner, contemplative way that was so dangerous to deal with. I gritted my teeth, searching for some way to reach out to him through the crystal.

"I think we’re going to have to rush him and chance it" Random said. "I don’t see anything else. Do you?"

Brand smiled viciously at them. "There’s nothing you can do. Throw down your weapons, surrender, then get the hell out of here. Or keep them and get out, I do not care. Leave me alone, I have things to do."

"Brand" I heard Fiona’s voice, taking on that tone she used when she wanted you to do something distasteful, "can you turn the storm aside from us?"

"I could if I would" he answered her, "yes, I could turn it aside."

"You will be a hero if you do" she continued, smooth and sinuous. "You will earn our gratitude. All past wrongs will be forgiven. Forgiven and forgotten. We…"

Brand’s laughter was wild, hysterical, and I flinched. Fiona never realized; it was years and years too late for that and even so she had it backwards.

"You forgive me?" he said. "You, who left me in that tower, who put the knife into my side? Thank you, sister. It is very kind of you to offer to forgive me, but excuse me if I decline." Knife? The bitch knifed him?

"All right" Random tried, "what do you want? An apology? Riches and treasure? An important appointment? All of these? They are yours. But this is a stupid game you are playing. And none of this will bring her back. Let us end it and go home, pretend it was all a bad dream."

I sighed. Random had no clue. Those offers might amuse, but what I suspected Brand might want Random and Fiona couldn't grant. And Random was grabbing at straws with that comment. Guess he still thinks I'm dead. Brand's short bark of vicious laughter drew my attention back sharply.

"Yes, let us end it" I heard Brand saying. "You do that by throwing down your weapons first. Then Fiona releases me from her spell, you all bend knee and swear fealty. Do it or I kill Dierdre."

Random’s patience seemed to have snapped, "Then I think you had better go ahead and kill her and be ready to fight it out with me" he said, "because she will be dead in a little while anyway, if we let you have it your way. All of us will".

Again, Brand laughed in that other voice, and it was then I started to cry. "Do you honestly think I am going to let you die? I need you – as many of you as I can save. Hopefully even Dierdre. You are the only ones who can appreciate my triumph, my loyal subjects. I will preserve you through the holocaust that is beginning."

"You’re lying" Random stated.

"Think about it" Brand challenged him, "I will be King in Amber by your accord, and I will want each and every one of you there to obey me. In that sense, I require your survival. Now stop this nonsense and comply."

I noticed Corwin still inching forward, still concealed by this time. Trump did not seem to be working, and I cursed with tears running down my face for lack of a way to warn him.

Corwin’s face took on a look of concentration, and I saw Brand jerk stiffly, as if fighting again. Dierdre reacted, twisting suddenly to grab for the Jewel. Brand jerked again, drawing the dagger across her throat and arm, and I saw blood spurt down her armour. Her fingers twined about the chain, which tensed and strained as he convulsed again. There was a flash of brilliant silver, and to my horror I saw he had been shot through the throat. A quick glance revealed the archer, Caine (damn his soul), just loosing a second shot.

I looked to Brand, seeing the second shot take him in the chest. Both he and Dierdre tottered on the edge for what seemed an eternity, then I saw him falling. The chain snapped free in Dierdre’s grip, and Brand fell towards the Abyss.

The image that haunts my dreams, my nightmares, is those last few seconds. His face, his eyes changed again, the cold viciousness gone, and there was my Brand again, for the last time. A sigh, just a whisper, escaped his lips,

"At last…" as he fell, and I could not take my eyes from him. But for just one last word with him, what I would not have given…

I know I watched him fall, and I felt the touch of gibbering madness begin to grip my mind even as the blackness welled up around me. I heard someone screaming "No!", the voice sounding somehow like my own, and then the shadows claimed me.

The first thing I noticed, as I awoke, was the smell of some strong herb. The smell was rapidly followed by the calm, yet somehow concerned, gaze of Grandmother. As I strained to focus on her, she smiled in a gentle way, "I know I warned you not to push so hard, Celeste dear. You had some fall to hit your head as hard as you did."

I remember opening my mouth to answer her, when it all hit me in a wave of pain. I’m certain in the midst of my hysterical crying I babbled, as much as I’m sure I called for Brand over and over. All I remember was Grandmother’s touch, soft and cool on my forehead and the blessed darkness claimed me again.

In all, I was out of it for a few days. When I was permitted out of bed, I tried to talk to her about it, talk my way out of it, but she saved me the trouble.

"People say the strangest things in fever dreams, Celeste, and you’ve been quite ill" she waved a hand at me dismissively, then looked at me sharply, her eyes suddenly very intense. "You need time to heal, and get over this. You will have to learn to put this behind you."

I got the message loud and clear. But I certainly wouldn’t forget; not then, not now, not ever. I still owe Random and Fi a thing or two, and Caine will suffer the pain of all of my nightmares.

And even now, I love him still.

Return to Book Index of Excerpts from the Edge

Return to text Index of Excerpts from the Edge