Amber, year ten, day three continued

	Mother cannot remember anything beyond the time when she attacked
Felix and plucked all the hair from his backside.  She was quite
distressed to learn that she has a five year gap in her memory.  I tried
not to remind her that there was obviously more than just that one gap.
She doesn't remember giving birth to me, after all, and that was quite
some time ago.  I explained to her as much of her past as I could recall,
and went over the family tree, since she remembered little of it.  It felt
much like that time when she broke my nose, and then fainted, waking up
with no memory of Amber.  I should just write it all down and hand it to
her each time.  No, I could not do that.  It would be too cruel.  But
sometimes...  I still have not told her of the child - I think that's a
bit much to drop on her, right now.  But she will have to be told, and
soon.  It's not the sort of thing that can be kept secret for long.

Afternoon

	I do not like the look of things, just now.  The black draperies
being hung, the depressing air about the castle...  Something terrible has
happened.  Are Felix and Usires dead?  It would explain how Isabeux looks,
just now.  Gods, I hope that isn't it.

	Oh gods, Ahab, why didn't you listen to me?  I warned you that the
king could not take such risks.  But you went ahead and took them anyway. 
And now you are...  I cannot even say.  I cannot think it.  I keep
expecting to see you walking towards me with that 'I told you so' look
that you've worn so many times before after spitting in the face of death. 
I should have tried harder.  I shouldn't have walked away from you before
that mission.  I should have found you when you returned.  I should have
found someone, anyone that you would listen to.  I should have done
something.  I could see this was coming.  We all saw it coming.  Why
couldn't I stop you?  Why?

	I want to leave this place.  It is all I can do to sit, and eat,
and not let anything show.  Something is wrong with Lavender, holes in her
memory of some sort, and I want to help, but I just can't right now.  I
can't handle any more bad news, any more problems, any more anything. 
There is no more room within me.  Any more and I shall burst.  Ahab,
Corwin, Ariadne, all gone.  And the Serpent.  Thank the gods that they
took the Serpent with them.  I could not bear it if Ahab had thrown his
life away for nothing.  Even if it still feels that way.  That damned
Jewel.  It wasn't worth even one of their lives, much less all three. 
Damn it, Eric, make the announcement.  Please.  I cannot bear to be here
much longer.

	I've replayed our final argument over and over in my head for more
than an hour now.  Everything we said, every gesture we made, every
argument I should have tried, but didn't, every response I could have
made, but failed to.  It is driving me insane.  I've got to get out of
here.  I've got to find something, do something, anything to stop thinking
about this.  Jalana will worry - she's already worried - but I barely have
the strength to maintain this facade, and I can feel it beginning to
crumble.

	I feel badly for sending Jalana back.  She only wanted to help. 
But how can I explain the way I feel to a five-year-old?  I will break
soon, and I do not wish her to be around me, then.  It would only frighten
her.  And I was telling the truth.  The infirmary in town is no place for
her.  Would I have come here if she had not tried to follow me?  Probably
not.  But there is work enough to keep me busy here, at least for a little
while.  I refuse to think beyond that.

	Damn Martin, for not speaking up.  And damn me, for not noticing
him.  And damn Ahab, for causing all of this.  Stupid, self-centered,
egotistical, selfish bastard!  How could he do this to all of us?  Damn
him!

	I just want the pain to stop.  Just for a little while.  I want
someone to hold me and tell me it will be all right, even when I know it
never will.  But there is no one.  No one at all.  Gods, Riftvan, where
are you?  I need you now, so very badly.  I need someone.

Evening

	The Faerie who cast the spell that caused Lavender's memory
problems has done his best to fix the problem, but apparently not soon
enough.  At least that is what Lavender implied, and judging by the spell
she had me cast, and the questions she asked of me, I can guess what must
have transpired.  And with who.  I should feel more anger towards him,
more something, but I feel drained of almost every emotion, save
bitterness.  Bitterness towards Ahab, towards Driscoll, towards Riftvan,
towards the world in general that allows such things to happen.  Even
Drumm's offer to bring me to Zane's quarters so that I might kill him did
not provide the spark I would have expected it to.  It is a chance to
avenge Ahab, and maybe to see Riftvan again, if I succeed.  I should be
elated.  I merely feel numb.  Perhaps this is just as well.  If I am going
to assassinate someone, isn't it best that I feel nothing?

Night

	Lavender survived the Pattern, with the help of some of my energy. 
She tried to refuse it, saying I needed it more.  This from the woman
about to walk the Pattern after an hour of sparring.  I insisted, and she
did not refuse, in the end.  I did not tell her that I wanted to exhaust
myself, for I do not think I will sleep at all, otherwise.  I should go
back to my quarters.  It is getting late.  There was that glowing object
that burned through the wall, though, in the middle of Lavender's walk. 
She had it around her neck.  I should see where it went, and what it was. 
It will keep my mind off...things.

Amber, year ten, day four (Sunday, July 9)

Early morning

	I guess I am not completely numb, after all.  I felt some small
satisfaction at finally doing to Lavender what she has done to me so often
through the years.  It was only a brief feeling, though, gone almost
before I could register it.  Foster found the whole thing not amusing in
the slightest.  Why on earth did Lavender pull him through naked?  The
whole thing had an air of unreality to it.  Here we were, in the middle of
the night, at the foot of Kolvir, trying to find the second eye of the
Serpent, which Lavender had forgotten she was wearing when she walked the
Pattern, along with the two eyes of the Unicorn.  Who also died fighting
the Serpent, it seems.  I took a nap while Foster searched the area where
the missing eye's trajectory should have taken it, too exhausted to stay
wake any longer, and awoke half expecting it all to have been a dream. 
But Foster was standing there holding an object that looked very much like
the Jewel of Judgment, and I knew it was all too real.  A fact that was
driven home to me when my hand got too close to this jewel, and my ring
nearly squeezed my finger off.  Foster said the eye made him
uncomfortable, but nothing that would prompt the sort of danger that the
ring was warning me of.  He thinks this eye is to the Logrus as the Jewel
of Judgment is to the Pattern, which would explain why it would be more
dangerous for me to touch it than him.  But I can always smell the Logrus
when it's present, and I smell nothing from this jewel.  I wonder what it
would have done to me had I touched it?  And why Lavender can handle it
without harm?  Why did the eyes all burn her hand the way they did?  I was
too tired to care overmuch about the answers, just then.  As were they,
although it wasn't tiredness that seemed to be on their minds.  I hope
they don't forget that Lavender recently walked the Pattern.

	I found Jalana sleeping on the coach.  I guess she tried to wait
up for me.  I'm sorry, dear.  I wish I could convince you not to worry,
like your brothers.  I wish I could convince you that it will be all
right.  But how can I, when I no longer believe it myself?  By this time
tomorrow, I may be dead, or imprisoned.  I try not to think of what you
will think if that should happen.  If I do, I may lose my resolve.  And I
must do this.  I must.

Morning

	I very desperately want to leave, to go after Zane, to get this
over with.  For there to be an end to all of this.  I spent the morning
with the children, showing them the dragons that Driscoll has brought to
Amber.  I still feel numb.  The children seemed to enjoy themselves,
though, and Mercury was very gentle with them.  At least this way, if I
die, their last memories of me will be happy ones.

	I could not help but glare at Driscoll when I saw him, and his
response confirmed all of my suspicions.  He placed the blame on desire
long thwarted, and claimed that he couldn't help himself.  I found this a
rather pathetic excuse.  I have wanted him ever since I met him, but I
would never do to him what he did to Lavender.  Why do men always think
they can absolve themselves from blame by blaming their passion?

Afternoon

	I don't know what I expected from the service for Ahab.  If it was
a lifting of grief, it did not happen.  Bart led the service, dressed in
the robes I last saw Pari wearing at Lavender's wedding.  Is he dead as
well?  I was too numb to care.  I don't recall much of Bart's speech, to
be perfectly honest.  I spend most of the ceremony staring straight ahead,
trying not to cry, digging my nails into my hands until they drew blood. 
Someone has to pay for this.

	It was harder than I expected to leave the children.  I hate to
think of never seeing them again.  Will they understand why I had to do
this?  I hope so, someday.  I hope Lavender will agree to watch over them
if I do not return, at least until their father returns.  If he returns. 
I hate to burden her with them, but there is no one else I can ask without
prompting questions of what I am planning.  Questions I cannot answer.  At
least if I am caught, I will be acting on my own, with Amber unaware of my
intentions.

	I remember, right before the blow connected, being surprised at
how unsurprised I was.  I suppose I knew, from the moment I decided to
tell Benedict of Drumm's offer, that he would not let me go.  He might go
himself, but either way, he would never allow me to do so.  I would be
unnecessary if he took Drumm up on his offer.  And if he refused to do
this, he certainly would not allow me to do so.  But I had to try.  I had
to.  I could not have lived with myself if I had not.  Just as he could
not allow me to leave, knowing what I would do.  A part of me still wishes
he had let me go.  But a part of me feels relief that he did not.  The
part of me that did not wish to risk my unborn child, nor leave the four I
have.  I will listen to that part of me, at least for now.  If Benedict,
with all his experience, feels it is not an option, then I should heed his
opinion.  There is some irony in that, I suppose.  Ahab and I both
proposed doing something foolish, and would not initially listen to
Benedict's advice.  But I have reconsidered, while Ahab never did.  Maybe
Benedict should have hit Ahab on the head and locked him up for a while,
as he did me.  Oh gods, Ahab.  I just want everything to be as it was.

Evening

	I suppose I would still be out there, crying on the shoreline, had
I not received Felix's Trump.  I didn't want to talk to anyone, and I
could have blocked the call, but I just didn't care anymore.  I'm still
not sure why I decided to come.  The last thing I wanted to do was be in a
room full of people talking about Ahab.  What I really wanted was to drink
myself into oblivion, but that pleasure is denied me until Ana is born. 
Although Foster's concoction is working amazingly well as a substitute. 
I'm not sure I would have ever emerged from my corner, otherwise. 
Lavender joined me there, not long after I arrived, and watched Driscoll
as he sat in the other corner, in much the same fashion as I.  I tried to
let her know that I understood how she felt.  I think I conveyed too much
with my tone, judging by the look she gave me.  I do not have the strength
to shield my emotions properly, anymore.  I did not speak to Shard when I
arrived for that very reason.  I was glad that he was here, for he needs
to spend more time with other people, but I just didn't have the strength
to handle everything that has occurred between us, just then.  It would
have been too much.  So I just watched him, while Lavender watched
Driscoll, and wished I could forget everything, for a while.  And then I
saw Foster, and had hope that maybe I could.  I must remember how he made
that drink, so I can make some more of it.  They are starting to tell
stories of Ahab, but I think I can bear them now.  Maybe even tell a few. 
It just doesn't hurt, anymore.

Amber, year ten, day five (Monday, July 10)

Morning

	Drumm picks the oddest times to drop by.  He found me passed out
on the floor, and woke me to ask if this meant I had given up on Zane.  I
felt dreadfully tired, but not nearly the hangover I should have felt.  I
think even more highly of Foster's drink than before.  I explained that,
given Benedict's opinion on the matter, I had decided to wait, at least
until Ana is born.  He cast a sleep spell on me and left, before I could
say anything more.  I hate it when people do that to me.  It's not as if I
can't contact him via the talking bones, but now I have to waste a spell
to do so.  And I would rather have made my request in person.  I've
decided that I cannot remain in Amber, not anymore, so I have decided to
seek permission to reside in Faerie.  The children could be happy there,
and they need to spend more time learning of that side of their heritage. 
Right now, I do not feel as though I will ever be happy anywhere, but I
could be content there, I think, after a time.  That will have to suffice.

	It seems I shall have to delay my departure for a little while.  I
informed Nicholas of Miranda's situation, and presented what I hope were
compelling arguments for her rescue.  I also informed him of my ability to
heal the wounds made by Takaran weapons.  He immediately thought of
Oberon.  Which is fortunate, for I would not, could not, have suggested
the idea to him.  To tell a monarch that you want to try to bring back a
previous one would smack of a lack of confidence in his ability to rule
that he does not need.  It had to be his choice, and he made it almost
instantly.  He will do well, I think.  You should be proud of him, Ahab. 
Even if you did leave it to him too soon.  Eric took a bit longer, but
came to the same decision.  I could see that it was a difficult choice for
him.  He wants to be king very badly - not surprising, given that he once
was.  As Nicholas' regent, he can be that king, until Nicholas takes the
Pattern.  If Oberon returns, he loses that chance.  But Amber needs
Oberon, and if a chance exists that he can be brought back...  I despised
the man as much as anyone, and did not mourn his loss terribly much, but
bringing him back is a sacrifice I will make, if it will help Amber right
now.

	Lavender wishes to go to Rath for a time.  Long enough for Bridget
to have her child, and Lavender hers.  Foster was not careful enough last
night, it seems, and she has apparently passed a few months in Rath
already.  I suppose that is why she seems so much more at peace with
Ahab's death than I do.  I still cannot think of it without feeling
something tear inside of me.  It's like a dark pit.  I circle around it
very carefully, but sometimes I glance in, and then I am lost.  I wonder
if I shall ever stop falling into it.  It is why I want to leave Amber so
very badly, right now.  There are too many reminders here.  If I accept
Lavender's invitation to go with them, I could get away from Amber, at
least for a little while.  I could have the baby in safety.  I could stop
worrying about the risk to her in everything I do.  And I would be with
friends.  Felix, Lavender, Foster, their children.  I need to be with
friends, right now.  But if I do this thing, I ensure that Riftvan will
not be there for Ana's birth, and I cannot bear that thought.  He should
be there.  I need him to be there.  I've needed him these past few days,
as well.  Gods, I'm so tired of being alone.  I don't think I ever would
have even considered Drumm's offer had I not been so hurt and angry over
Ahab's death, and if I hadn't wanted so badly to see Riftvan again.  At
least Benedict stopped me.  I wonder if he knows how I escaped from his
cell?  Did he leave it unshielded from Faerie magic deliberately, to see
if I'd figure it out, and what I'd do afterwards?  I had more than enough
time to contact Drumm, if I'd wished.  I don't know.  I don't know what to
do about anything, any more.  Do I have Ana without Riftvan, or do I stay
here and hope that in four months he will have returned?  Do I stay in
Amber, or run away to Faerie?  I feel so lost.

	Lavender's child is a boy.  And an albino.  Which means it must be
Driscoll's child.  Damn him, for causing all of this.  Foster tried to
reassure Lavender that it was all right, but the spasming of his fist
behind her back said otherwise.  I know how he must be feeling.  I felt
that same thing once, when I learned Sand had given birth to Riftvan's
children.  Children that must have been conceived while he was also
sleeping with me, while I was carrying his children.  But I could never
turn away any child, especially not when they were a part of him, not when
I thought that I would lose him.  In a way, he is lucky that he was dying
at the time.  Had I not been so worried about him, I suspect I would have
been far more angry about the matter.  As it was, there was still some
resentment, although I doubt he ever noticed in the condition he was in. 
Foster has even more reason to be upset with Driscoll.  And to spend two
months thinking a child was yours, only to discover it was not...  It
would have been easier for everyone if walking the Pattern had stopped the
child before it started.  Although, this does mean that one can walk the
Pattern while pregnant and not harm the child, at least not physically.  I
would rather not have found out this way, however.  At least Felix heeded
my advice.  Foster needs to hit someone over this, and Felix is one of the
few who can withstand him.  I hope he saves a few punches for Driscoll,
though.  He is deserving of many of them, right now.  Despite Lavender's
feeling that he is not to blame.  She blames herself instead, because she
does have feelings for Driscoll, and her memories were altered such that
she thought all of her dreams were reality.  But whether a part of her
desired him or no, he had to know something was wrong, while she had no
such knowledge.  The fault lies with him, not with her.

Afternoon

	I do not know how much more of this I can take.  Oberon is dead,
and has been for many days, judging by the look of it.  And the smell... 
I can't get that smell out of my mind, even though not a trace of it
lingers in the air, thanks to Fiona's spell.  For a moment there, it was
all just too much.  I still feel like I'm teetering on the edge of the
abyss, although the hysteria is gone, for now.  I'm glad that Fiona
offered to spread the news.  I don't think I could have faced Nicholas
right now and told him of my failure.  I do not seem able to do anything
right, of late.

	I have decided to go with Lavender to Rath, but only until
Bridget's child is born.  It should be soon, judging by my examination of
her.  She would only consent to an external exam, which seemed rather
strange.  She was willing to sleep with multiple men in one night, but
doesn't want anyone to actually see that region of her body?  I saw no
point in arguing with her about it, since my diagnostic "spell" served the
same purpose, and I was able to use it during the exam without her
noticing.  The child seems to be fine.  I opted not to determine its sex,
since I don't want to risk accidentally letting slip the information in
front of Bridget, but it is not an especially large child, like Haris was. 
Which means that, if it is Felix's child, it is likely a girl.  If it is a
boy, then it's probably Shard's.  I hope, for all concerned, that the
child is Felix's, though.  I don't think Bridget would react well to the
news that the father of her child is a vampire, and I think Felix would
welcome the chance to raise the child, a chance he never had with Foster. 
But, at the same time...  This is likely the only chance there is that
Shard will have any offspring.  I don't know if that bothers him or not,
but I keep thinking of the look he had, after I allowed him to feel Ana
moving around inside of me...  I cannot read him like I can most people,
but it seemed almost as though I saw regret in his eyes.  Gods, either
way, someone will be hurt.  It seems that's all there is anymore.

Rath, year ten, day six

	I find that sleep remains elusive, even here.  It is so tempting
to simply make more of that drink of Foster's, and find oblivion that way,
but I cannot, not when Bridget's child could come at any time.  I hope it
comes soon.  I'm glad I brought the children with me.  Watching them play
at least manages to distract me somewhat during the day, even if I cannot
find it within me to join them.

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