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mber； and he had used it the same way this past week when the creatures had made their assault from the black road。 It had served him well on both occasions； even if it had not been sufficient to save his life。 So I had better get hold of its power myself； I decided； now。 Any extra edge was important。 And it would be good to be seen wearing the thing； too； I judged。 Especially now。
I put the notes back into the safe； the jewel in my pocket。 I left then and headed downstairs。 Again； as before； to walk those halls made me feel as if I had never been away。 This was home； this was what I wanted。 Now I was its defender。 I did not even wear the crown； yet all its problems had bee my own。 It was ironic。 I had e back to claim the crown； to wrest it from Eric； to hold the glory； to reign。 Now； suddenly； things were falling apart。 It had not taken long to realize that Eric had behaved incorrectly。 If he had indeed done Dad in； he had no right to the crown。 If he had not； then he had acted prematurely。 Either way； the coronation had served only to fatten his already obese ego。 Myself； I wanted it and I knew that I could take it。 But it would be equally irresponsible to do so with my troops quartered in Amber； suspicious of Caine's murder about to descend upon me； the first signs of a fantastic plot suddenly displayed before me； and the continuing possibility that Dad was still alive。 On several occasions it seemed we had been in contact； briefly … and at one such time； years ago； that he had okayed my succession。 But there was so much deceit and trickery afoot that I did not know what to believe。 He had not abdicated。 Also； I had had a head injury； and I was well aware of my own desires。 The mind is a funny place。 I do not even trust my own。 Could it be that I had manufactured that whole business？ A lot had happened since。 The price of being an Amberite； I suppose； is that you cannot even trust yourself。 I wondered what Freud would have said。 While he had failed to pierce my amnesia； he had e up with some awfully good guesses as to what my father had been like； what our relationship had been； even though I had not realized it at the time。 I wished that I could have one more session with him。
I made my way through the marble dining hall and into the dark； narrow corridor that lay behind。 I nodded to the guard and walked on back to the door。 Through it then； out onto the platform； across and down。 The interminable spiral stairway that leads into the guts of Kolvir。 Walking。 Lights every now and then。 Blackness beyond。
It seemed that a balance had shifted somewhere along the way； and that I was no longer acting but being acted upon； being forced to move； to respond。 Being herded。 And each move led to another。 Where had it all begun？ Maybe it had been going on for years and I was only just now being aware of it。 Perhaps we were all victims； in a fashion and to a degree none of us had realized。 Great victuals for morbid thought Sigmund； where are you now？ I had wanted to be king … still wanted to be king … more than anything else。 Yet the more I learned and the more I thought about what I had learned； the more all of my movements actually seemed to amount to Amber Pawn to King Four。 I realized then that this feeling had been present for some time； growing； and I did not like it at all。 But nothing that has ever lived has gotten by without making some mistake； I consoled myself。 If my feeling represented actuality； my personal Pavlov was setting closer to my fangs with each ringing of the bell。 Soon now； soon； I felt that it had to be soon； I would have to see that he came very near。 Then it would be mine to see that he neither went away nor ever came again。
Turning； turning； around and down； light here； light there； these my thoughts； like thread on a spool； winding or unwinding； hard to be sure。 Below me the sound of metal against stone。 A guard's scabbard； the guard rising。 A ripple of light from a lantern raised。
〃Lord Corwin。。。〃
〃Jamie。〃
At bottom； I took a lantern from the shelf。 Putting a light to it； I turned and headed toward the tunnel； pushing the darkness on ahead of me； a step at a time。
Eventually the tunnel； and so up it； counting side passages。 It was the seventh that I wanted。 Echoes and shadows。 Must and dust。
ing to it； then。 Turning there。 Not too much farther。
Finally； that great； dark； metal…bound door。 I unlocked it and pushed hard。 It creaked； resisted； finally moved inward。
I set down the lantern； just to the right； inside。 I had no further need of it； as the Pattern itself gave off sufficient light for what I had to do。
For a moment I regarded the Pattern … a shining mass of curved lines that tricked the eye as it tried to trace them … imbedded there； huge； in the floor's slick blackness。 It had given me power over Shadow； it had restored most of my memory。 It would also destroy me in an instant if I were to essay it improperly。 What gratitude the prospect did arouse in me was therefore not untinged with fear。 It was a splendid and cryptic old family heirloom which belonged right where it was； in the cellar。
I moved off to the corner where the tracery began。 There I posed my mind； relaxed my body； and set my left foot upon the Pattern。 Without pausing； I strode forward then and felt the current begin。 Blue sparks outlined my boots。 Another step。 There was an audible crackling this time and the beginning of resistance。 I took the first curvelength； striving to hurry； wanting to reach the First Veil as quickly as possible。 By the time I did； my hair was stirring and the sparks were brighter； longer。
The strain increased。 Each step required more effect than the previous one。 The crackling grew louder and the current intensified。 My hair rose and I shook off sparks。 I kept my eyes on the fiery lines and did not stop pushing。
Suddenly the pressure abated。 I staggered but kept moving。 I was through the First Veil and into the feeling of acplishment that that entailed。 I recalled the last time that I had e this way； in Rebma； the city under the sea。 The maneuver I had just pleted was what had started the return of my memories。 Yes。 I pushed ahead and the sparks grew and the currents rose once again； setting my flesh to tingling。
The Second Veil。。。 The angles。。。 It always seemed to tax the strength to its limits； to produce the feeling that one's entire being was transformed into pure Will。 It was a driving； relentless sensation。 At the moment； the negotiation of the Pattern was the only thing in the world that meant anything to me。 I had always been there； striving； never been away； always would be there； contending； my will against the maze of power。 Time had vanished。 Only the tension held。
The sparks were up to my waist。 I entered the Grand Curve and fought my way along it。 I was continually destroyed and reborn at every step of its length； baked by the fires of creation； chilled by the cold at entropy's end。
Out and onward； turning。 Three more curves； a straight line； a number of arcs。 Dizziness； a sensation of fading and intensifying as though I were oscillating into and out of existence。 Turn after turn after turn after turn。。。 A short； sharp arc。。。 The line that led to