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"Move it to another Shadow," she said.
I blinked. "Can we do that?"
"Of course. Tell Connor to use a  oh, give me a second. I had better do it."
She turned and spoke to someone over her shoulder, then reached toward me. I
took her hand and pulled her through.
She took one look at the Shadow and said, "Hmm!" Then she turned and strolled
away at an almost leisurely pace, her head bowed. I noted a Trump in her left
hand, but I could not yet tell what it showed.
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The Shadow became a seething, writhing cloud. It glided toward the three of
us, faster now, three hundred yards away and closing rapidly.
My uneasiness grew. Someone had to be controlling it& but who? And from
where? He had to be watching us to send it right at us.
I glanced around camp. My men had stopped in the midst of their packing to
stare up at it, awe and horror mingling on their faces. They too recognized it
as something evil.
"Bring me a bow!" I called.
"Here, Oberon!" One of the archers leaped forward, offering his.
"Thanks."
Notching an arrow, I drew back as far as I could, turned quickly, and fired
into the cloud. Once  twice  a third time. The arrows entered it one after
another, disappearing from sight; they did not come out the other side. Like
the dragon's fire, they had no effect.
I swallowed. Then I backed up a few more feet, getting behind Freda. I didn't
want to be in the path when she let loose whatever magic she'd been working.
What could I do to help? I hated waiting. It made me feel powerless.
I scanned the bushes and trees surrounding our camp. Maybe I could spot the
sorcerer manipulating the cloud. I figured he had to be watching us to direct
it so precisely.
As I turned toward the mountain behind us, sunlight glinted off something  a
silver buckle or maybe a button  among the scraggly pines. From that vantage
point, whoever it was had a perfect view of us.
I caught Conner's arm. "The wizard is hiding in the woods behind us. Watch
for a reflection. There! See it?"
"Yes!" he said. He drew his sword.
"Wait." I marked the spot mentally, then turned back toward the cloud. A
hundred yards away, it drifted steadily toward us.
Calmly I nocked another arrow and took aim. Then, instead of firing into the
shadow, I wheeled and shot at the figure hidden in the trees. He was two
hundred yards distant, but I knew my own strength, and I could hit a target
that far away.
I followed that first with five more in rapid succession, covering a spread
perhaps four feet across.
I don't know if I hit him or not, but I'd like to think so. The arrows
certainly broke his concentration. Even as I loosed my last shot, I heard
Conner suck in a quick breath.
"Oberon!" he said in a warning voice.
I glanced toward the shadow. Twenty yards away, it had stopped moving toward
us. Suddenly it began to swell rapidly outward, twenty feet across, then
thirty 
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"Can you stop it?" I said, backing up. "Freda?"
Whatever the shadow touched turned black and crumbled to dust. The ground 
our tents  stacks of weapons 
My sister remained silent, but her face had grown hard. Her lips moved; she
raised both her hands, one pointed directly toward the cloud, the other
angling a Trump toward her face.
That Trump showed the Courts of Chaos. Somehow, she had opened the image on
the card. Like the cloud, it seethed with dark movements. The stars in its sky
moved. The buildings shimmered and swayed. Lightning flickered across the
landscape, occasionally striking out through the card with little flickering
tongues of light.
"Like drawn to like!" she commanded. She extended the card toward the
still-expanding cloud, and as its forward edge touched her palm, her whole
body seemed to flicker in and out of existence. For an instant I saw blue
threads stretching from her hand toward the shadowy Primal Chaos, touching it,
wrapping around it, pulling it toward her. But instead of turning her to dust,
the cloud flowed along her arm, to the Trump, through it, and out of sight 
back to the Courts, if that's where it had come from. I really didn't care, as
long as it went away.
When the last of it had disappeared, Freda sagged. I leaped forward and
caught her before she hit the ground.
"Well done!" I said.
"Did it work?" she murmured, eyes half closed.
"Yes," I said. "It's gone. Thanks."
She smiled then passed out.
"Take her back to Amber!" Conner said grimly. "I'll get our men home."
"Are you sure?" I asked,
"Yes. Hurry, before anything else happens!"
Without waiting for an answer, he sprinted toward our troops, bawling orders.
Everyone shouldered packs and reformed into lines four abreast for a quick
march. The cavalry lined up next to them.
I shifted Freda to my left arm and rumbled out my deck of Trumps one-handed.
Finding the courtyard Trump, I used it to get us back to Amber.
Servants rushed to greet me, calling welcomes. Some held basins of water and
towels to clean the dust of travel from our hands and faces; others bore trays
with cups and flagons of wine, and still others carried platters laden with
succulent-looking sweetmeats, pastries, and other delicacies.
"Shall I get a physician?" one of the stewards asked in a quiet voice. He
motioned for two others to take Freda from my arms. They carried her toward
the finished wing of the castle.
"Yes," I said. "Hurry!"
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"Very good, Sire." He turned and ran.
A small army of architects, stonemasons, and several army officers appeared
as if on cue  apparently it didn't take long for word of my return to Amber
to spread. They all clamored for answers to pressing questions.
"Later!" I promised. Pushing past them, I followed after Freda. I had to see
to her first.
They carried her into the great hall. Work continued apace, I saw as I
glanced around hurriedly: stonemasons were carefully laying out an
intricately-patterned slate floor, full of red and blue interlocking circles.
Without a word, they carried Freda swiftly past and up the corridor toward
the wing that housed our quarters. We passed a dozen rooms before coming to
one with furniture: a divan, several low tables, and three comfortable-looking
armchairs.
They set my sister on the divan and raised her feet, placing pillows behind
her head and spreading a light blanket across her lap.
Suddenly her eyelids fluttered and opened. She glanced around, apparently
confused.
"Feeling better?" I asked, kneeling beside her.
"A little." She tried to sit up. I helped, fluffing more pillows and placing
them behind her back. She seemed more physically exhausted than injured 
working that spell had taken a lot out of her.
More servants, trailing after us, brought in silver trays laden with silver
cups and pitchers, teapots, and still more pastries and intricately arranged
fruits.
"Put everything down and go." I motioned toward the tables. To the steward, I
said: "Ask our father to join us. He is still in the castle, isn't he?"
"I am not sure, Sire," he said.
"Find out." If he wasn't here, I'd have to contact him by Trump.
"Yes, Sire." Bowing, he scurried off. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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