Dear Elizabeth,	
	It's morning, before noon.  I'm feeling rather tearful, kind of 
weary in my soul.  These things happen.  I'm sitting next to Jubal's mom; 
the infirmary is quiet, finally, but that's because Sandr and Ulysses 
finally left.  I didn't think they would.  I just want to be alone with 
this woman from Chaos for a while.  Her company is not demanding.  She 
doesn't make me nervous or feel stupid, and she doesn't make me vexed and 
angry just by looking at her.  That's probably just because I don't know 
her yet, though.  Oh, well.  It's been that kind of day, as you can 
probably tell.
	I had a good fencing round today, with my cousin Cameron. I don't 
know if you would like him or not.  He's not very cheery, but he does 
make some interesting comments from time to time.  He fences adequately.  
The armsmaster gave me a hard time about nicking up all his practice 
sabers, which is understandable, I suppose, but it's a real pain, 
because I have had to agree to do something preventative.  I could always 
not fence with Sequence, but you know how it would react to that.  It 
would sulk.  It would make my life hell.  
	I walked the Pattern and headed to Foil afterwards, where I embarked  
on a plan to plant a version of the pattern behind the manor.  I am not sure 
what this Pattern will do-- just be a pretty garden, or will it actually 
be a danger to someone who might accidentally step on it?  I don't want 
to ask Fiona about it, she's likely to say I should have thought of that 
before I started.  Well, I didn't.  I'll ask Cousin Sandr instead.  He 
knows enough to give me fairly accurate info.  I hope.  I don't think you 
would like Cousin Sandr at all.  He's Brand's son.  Whereas I don't think 
Sandr wants to remake the world in his own image, I think he's seriously 
messed up in many other ways.  Oh, well.  Just another thing to add to my 
list of burdens, since he seems to be one of the few here I might ever 
consider a friend.  
	I came back to Amber and had dinner, then made my way to the 
infirmary.  I talked to Sandr, who told me that there was a Logrus arm in 
the infirmary.  Confusion reigned supreme...  I trumped Fiona;  if the 
woman had just decided that she would come when I told her something was 
happening, we probably could have avoided this whole thing--  we wouldn't 
have had to head out to Forest Arden, and Archimedes wouldn't have the 
patchwork quilt syndrome.  I suppose it may have been a tactic to flush 
this Chaosite, but she plays fast and loose with human life too easily.  
There soon came another demon into the infirmary.  My spells did 
nothing.  Once more to revamp the spell collection afterwards.  Really 
fun.  Things were a lot easier when I was just the best sorceror around, but 
the rest of the world isn't Foil, is it.
	I don't know what Sandr was up to in his head, but when we got 
back after the crisis, he looked mightily fatigued.  Gerard was sewing up 
Archimedes, who was pretty heroic and pretty stupid today; just yesterday 
he was warning me about being cautious, though I suppose there is 
something to be said for the difference in our situations.  He was trying 
to end a hostage situation, where I was just trying to find something out 
about a hard circle of leather.  I found something sugary and cold for 
Sandr to drink, since I couldn't help Archimedes or Jubal's mom, and 
everyone else was all right.  The mothering instinct does take over once 
in a while, I'm afraid.  Oh, well.  I redid the spells and went to 
	I woke up and walked the Pattern and went to Foil.  I think I 
ought to comission a series of trumps of my haunts in Foil someday soon.  
Pattern walking is too fatiguing, though I am a lot more familiar with 
its kinks and twists already.  That's something I'm working on now; 
trying to get familiar enough with the Pattern that I can incorporate it 
into my spells.  If you were here, you'd know why...  But you aren't, so 
I'll tell you.  I think this is the most expedient way to find my 
father.  And I need to find my father, Elizabeth.  The taint of Amber has 
made it such that there is no one here to love.  This is my family now; I 
am an Amberite, but there is no warmth, little companionship and always 
there is suspicion, and that warning not to get too close.  Vialle and 
Random seem to love and trust each other.  Back home the druids would say 
this is a good sign, that the clan chief is happy and so the land and the 
people should be happy as well, but it's so untrue.  Uncle Gerard is 
usually kind to us all, but there is no love here.  
	I don't think I appreciated what I had back in Foil when you all 
were alive.  When we were all together at Oleander that one time, right 
when I got Sequence, I should have been so happy, but I was too wrapped 
up in the concerns of not knowing my parentage, of why I felt like an 
outsider with the people who raised me.  I played the Bones to show me 
Uncle Julian depositing me there and fantasized that this man was my 
father, and when he found me, everything would be ok.  Only, he's not my 
father, and he's a man far too wrapped up in his patrols and hunting to 
bother with any of us.
	And then there's your daughter, Elizabeth.  She wouldn't come 
back to Amber with me.  She *is* happier in Foil with mother, I know 
this; and she is safer there, not because it's better defended, but 
because it is removed from the circle of things.  And she's out of reach 
of the taint.  For this I am glad.  But it makes life here so much 
lonelier.  There is really only joy when I'm planting something, or 
working in the lab, or fencing with Sequence, and even then, it's not joy 
so much as distraction.  So, now you know why I want to find my father so 
badly.  Though I feel that when I find him, it will be useless.  Fiona 
speaks disparagingly of him.  I want to believe that this is because he 
perhaps loved her, and she was simply disgusted by that.  That would mean 
he might love me too.  Maybe.  It's a possibility, anyway.
	It's not like I wasn't happy after the war, for a while, you must 
understand.  Beauty was a charming child. Though I know no more about 
her father than I do about my own, she takes after him more than she does 
after you, except for her love of the theatre.  If it were not for that, 
I would wonder that she were some sort of changeling.  There is none of 
the siogi grace in her that you had; everything about her is ultimately 
human.  She's not much like you in personality, either, I'm afraid.  She 
is rather like Caitt.  That's who she's living with now.  Mother dotes on 
her, and it's interesting to see how she is growing up.  I never insisted 
Beauty have any training that she did not wish to have; consequentially, 
she is becoming a splendid actress, a fine botanist, but fencing and 
hunting she has ignored entirely.  You would be proud of her.
	I sit looking down at this Chaosite.  Jubal doesn't even remember 
her, he says, but he offered to sacrifice himself for her today.  I think 
that more than anything else is why I want to cry today.  I know there is 
no love between my real mother and me that is that strong.  There's not 
even an instinct.  I swear to you, Elizabeth, even if Beauty or any 
children I might have do not live up to my expectations, I could not be 
so cold to them as Fiona is to me.  I've been calling her "mother" for 
the past few years, but the word seems to die in my throat sometimes...  
It just doesn't feel true.  
	I don't know what else to tell you, dear sister, except that I 
hope that there is more to this universe than what they say, and 
that your soul has found rest on the Isle of the Blessed....  
			Ever your affectionate,