Trumps of doom

I summoned the image of the Logrus, and two of its lines became my arms. I reached then, not through Shadow but up the slope to where a fairly good-sized rock was poised above a mass of others.

Seizing hold, I drew upon it. It was too heavy to topple easily, so I began rocking it. Slowly, at first. Finally, I got it to the tipping point and it tumbled. It fell among the others and a small cascade began. I withdrew further as they struck and sent new ones bouncing. Several big ones bean to roll. A fracture line gave way when they fell upon its edge at a steeper place. An entire sheet of stone groaned and cracked, began to slide.

I could feel the vibration as I continued my withdrawal. I had not anticipated setting off anything this spectacular. The rocks bounced, slid and flew into the grove. I watched the trees sway, saw some of them go down. I heard the crunching, the pinging, the breaking.

I gave it an extra half minute after what seemed its end. There was much dust in the air and half of the grove was down. Then I rose to my feet, Frakir dangling from my left hand, and I advanced upon the grove.

I searched carefully, but there was no one there. I climbed upon the trunk of a fallen tree.

«I repeat, do you care to talk about it?» I called out. No answer.

«Okay, be that way,» I said, and I headed north into Arden.

x x x

I heard the sound of horses occasionally as I hiked through that ancient forest. If I was being followed, though, the horsemen showed no interest in closing with me. Most likely, I was passing in the vicinity of one of Julian's patrols.

Not that it mattered. I soon located a trail and began the small adjustments that bore me farther and farther from them.

A lighter shade, from brown to yellow, and slightly shorter trees… Fewer breaks in the leafy canopy… Odd bird note, strange mushroom…

Little by little, the character of the wood was altered. And the shifting grew easier and easier the farther this took me from Amber.

I began to pass sunny clearings. The sky grew a paler blue… The trees were all green now, but most of them saplings…

I broke into a jog.

Masses of clouds came into view, the spongy earth grew firmer, drier…

I stepped up my pace, heading downhill. Grasses were more abundant. The trees were divided into clusters now, islands in a waving sea of those pale grasses. My view took in a greater distance. A flapping, beaded curtain off to my right: rain.

Rumbles of thunder came to me, though sunlight continued to light my way. I breathed deeply of the clean damp air and ran on.

The grasses fell away, ground fissured, sky blackened… Waters rushed through canyons and arroyos all about me… Torrents poured from overhead onto the rocking terrain…

I began slipping. I cursed each time I picked myself up, for my overeagerness in the shifting.

The clouds parted like a theater curtain, to where a lemon sun poured warmth and light from a salmon-colored sky. The thunder halted in mid-rumble and a wind rose…

I made my way up a hillside, looked down upon a ruined gage. Long-abandoned, partly overgrown, strange mounds lined its broken main street.

I passed through it beneath a slate-colored sky, picked my way slowly across an icy pond, faces of those frozen beneath me staring sightlessly in all directions…

The sky was soot-streaked, the snow hard-packed, my breath feathery as I entered the skeletal wood where frozen birds perched: an etching.

Slipping downhill, rolling, sliding into melting and spring… Movement again; about me… Mucky ground and clumps of green… Strange cars on distant highway…

A junkyard, smelling, oozing, rusting, smoldering… Threading my way amid acres of heaps… Rats scurrying…

Away… Shifting faster, breathing harder… Skyline beneath smog cap… Delta bottom… Seashore… Golden pylons along the road… Countryside with lakes… Brown grasses beneath green sky…

Slowing… Rolling grassland, river and lake… Slowing… Breeze and grass, sealike… Mopping my brow on my sleeve… Sucking air… Walking now…

I moved through the field at a normal pace, preferring to do my resting in a congenial spot such as this, where I could see for a good distance. The wind made soft noises as it passed among the' grasses. The nearest lake was a deep lime color. Something in the air smelled sweet.

I thought I saw a brief flash of light off to my right, but when I looked that way there was nothing unusual to be seen. A little later, I was certain that I heard a distant sound of hoofbeats. But again, I saw nothing. That's the trouble with shadows - you don't always know what's natural there; you're never certain what to look for.

Several minutes passed, and then I smelled it before I saw anything.

Smoke. The next instant there was a rush of fire. A long line of flame cut across my path.

And again the voice: «I told you to go back!»