Boy, did I get in trouble for the roof incident. Bill found Corwin and both of them herded me down to the third floor balcony where I was grabbed by both elbows, hauled to the study kicking and screaming. Neither one of them laid a hand on me nor beat me like Murphy would have.
“Stop acting like a baby,” Bill snapped. I stopped because frankly, I ran out of gas. They plopped me down in a chair and tongue lashed me for the next ten minutes which I tuned out by conjugating Latin verbs into French, a favorite trick I’d used when Murphy lectured me on my wrong doings. Of course, he usually retaliated by slapping my face red.
Corwin said mildly, “Bill, stop. He’s not listening to either of us. Raven? Raven, why did you climb up on the roof? You weren’t going to jump off, I know that so tell me what was on your mind?”
“I miss Murphy,” I said softly. “I don’t wanna bodyguard stuck to me 24/7 attached like a...rubber rain coat. I don’t want a...brother that’s a fricking machine. I used to think that being homeless and an orphan was the worst thing that could happen to me. Now, I’d settle for that. I wish I’d never heard of Amber, Dara and the Courts of Chaos!”
“Who told you about Dara?” he asked and the Ghostwheel piped up.
“His heart rate just doubled, Corwin. Respirations and blood pressure elevated, your question just triggered a fear response.”
I looked at my hands and feet, no jewelry of any kind on me, no earrings, studs, nose clip, rings, bracelet or necklaces anywhere on me.
“Where are you?” I demanded and it chuckled.
“Told you, you couldn’t find me.”
“If you’re inside me, I’ll dig you out!” I threatened.
“Now that’s just gross. If I went inside you, I’d have to come out. Yuck,” Ghostwheel complained. “That wouldn’t be any more fun for me than it would for you.”
“Where are you, then?” I looked around the room.
“Tell you what, if you can find me, I’ll leave you alone. Deal?”
I was busy looking at cuts or scrapes where an insert could have been planted under my skin. Or, I poked my fingers up my nose, in my ears and other orifices that could be explored in polite company. Like my belly button. My stomach was bare except for the raised welts where a row of staples had been removed. It looked angry and red, the muscles underneath a sickening shade of green and yellow but closed, no open areas, no pus.
Just then, the inside of my stomach decided it didn’t like what was in it or what I’d been doing and complained. My face got really hot as if it were burning and I bolted for the bathroom, roughly pushing Bill out of my way.
George and the Saint were in the hallway and moved to stop me but Corwin called out and both stepped out of the way. I ran into the main bathroom and dropped to my knees around the cold porcelain bowl. Heaved out my insides.
It’s strange how it hurts your ribs puking. I’d read somewhere that you can actually upchuck hard enough to break your own ribs. It certainly felt as if I were doing that. And the acid that runs down the back of your throat burns. Worse than...well, acid. I felt as if my own body hated me and wanted to expel me. After the last heave of nothing but pink tinged foam, I laid my face on the seat and breathed through my nose groaning in quiet misery. I felt someone lean over me and flush the toilet, Corwin picked me up by my waist as if I weighed no more than a six pack of beer. He carried me into the hallway of oak paneled walls towards what I assumed was his bedroom. His entourage followed. Bill, his bland face twisted with concern and worry, George, the Saint and Angel, all making suggestions on my treatment, drugs, doctors and the causes of my present condition.
“Bill,” Corwin said and pointed with his chin at the solid wooden door that wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow on a dungeon cell. The door swung open, I halfway saw what looked like a face on the wooden surface and then, we were inside a straightforward bedroom. A big four poster of red cherry, matching dresser, highboy, and mirror. Computer desk, small table with a chess set and a game playing. I saw checkmate in six moves on the white side.
The bedspread was a deep maroon quilt with black and turquoise, a spiral design that dragged your vision in. Heavy brocaded curtains in wine that pulled back to show white voile liners. Sunlight breathed in delicately as Bill shut the door, the air in the room thickened, became heavier and richer.
Corwin placed me on the duvet and stared down at me. “Why are you afraid, Raven, when I asked about the Queen Mother?”
I didn’t answer, I couldn’t answer without direct defiance of Dara’s orders. I didn’t have to, Ghost stepped in and did it for me.
“Corwin, she’s been here,” he sounded alarmed as if a machine could do so. “There’s a spell on him, wrapped around his heart and brain.”
Corwin snapped to Bill, “Tell George to lock up the house and take a vacation. Bill, pack a bag, we’re going to Amber.”
Five minutes later, my grandfather scooped me up wrapped inside the fancy quilt and concentrated on the Trump that represented Random. I saw the King’s lips move. “Corwin,” he sounded surprised and the faces of several bearded and be-jeweled men echoed him. “I’m in a Council meeting with Braedon and Moravia. Can it wait?”
“No. Bring me through,” Corwin said not asking. He grasped Random’s hand and all three of us stepped foot in the Council Chambers of the Palace. The guards snapped to attention and didn’t relax until Random waved them down. “What gives?” the King stared at me and then led us away towards a doorway covered by a tapestry of the Unicorn and a bearded man playing cards with a gray haired dwarf. A small ante-chamber, big enough for a futon, a recliner, table with a lamp was in the nook. Candles lit a warm glow around the entire room.
Back on the bed again. Good thing I wasn’t prone to motion sickness what with all the world jumping. “I hope the toilet’s close by,” Bill grumbled. “I don’t do puke.”
I rolled over and presented my back to them, protocol be damned.
“You don’t look well, Raven,” Random observed and Corwin explained. The King barked out commands, the ministers, councilors or whatever bowed their regrets and disappeared as a host of palace servants appeared.
There were maidservants, footmen, menservants, cooks, guards, Captains, a wizard and a doctor. All crowded around the entrance to the small chamber.
“Make ‘em go away,” I spoke through the quilt, my voice muffled. I felt awful. Besides the fire in my gut, a cold chill held my heart and head even though I had not said or done anything to reveal Dara’s tricks.
Ghostwheel materialized over my head, I could see him without even opening my eyes.
“His vitals are falling back to normal, Corwin,” it said. “Temp is a bit elevated and he’s dehydrated from the emesis but no significant damage to stomach or intestines. He’ll sleep, now. I recommend a diet of hamburger and rice, water with electrolytes. I’m ordering it from the kitchens.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I said and reached for sleep, desperately desired the escape from all those bodies and commands.
“What’s going on, Corwin?” Random’s question was the last thing I heard before diving into the breakers of a tidal dreamscape.
Vialle was at my bedside when I surfaced from my impromptu nap. She helped me sit up and before I could utter a word, was pouring green foamy stuff down my throat. Whatever it was, it tasted both good and soothing. As it hit my stomach, the nagging ache and burning went away. I eagerly finished the rest.
“Raven, you know that you almost died, correct?” she asked, her hands on mine. I nodded licking foam off my lips. She sure was pretty, green skin and all. Today, she was in palest green, filmy stuff that looked like...lingerie. I blushed, realized she couldn’t see me yet somehow, she knew.
“I can feel your heart rate change,” she smiled. “Listen, Raven. This is serious. What the Thrid did to you would have killed anyone from the shadows. The only reason you survived is because of your Amber bloodlines. Still, it left you with residual damage, weakness and occasional relapses. You’ll always have a...touchy gut. It’s like living with Irritable Bowel or Krohn’s disease.”
“Vialle,” I said in protest spreading my hands. “I’m just a 15 year old kid! I’m not ready for any of this!”
“Raven Corbin Murphy-Sines, you are dealt the cards you hold and you have to deal with it.
“Luckily, you have us. Family to help you. Tell me what the Witch Queen did to you?”
“What witch queen?” I returned. “I don’t know any witches.”
“I can see her footprints all over you, Prince of the Courts,” she returned. “A Summoning Spell, I believe and a strong one.” She raised her voice. “Roelle, please come in.”
A really pretty girl with blonde hair coiled up on her neck wearing a pristine white lacy apron over a minty green dress dipped a curtsy to the Queen. A sign of respect since the Queen was blind and wouldn’t know if she curtsied or made faces.
“Majesty,” she spoke clearly, firmly in a voice that rang out crystal in the small room. Her eyes were a pansy purple, lashes dark as soot with a wide generous smile. She studied me without staring and dropped her gaze after one swift perusal.
“Roelle, this is Prince Raven, son of King Merlin of the Courts of Chaos. I’d like for you to examine him and see if you can unravel the spell on him.”
“Yes, ma’am. My Lord,” she moved forward and put her hand on my chest. Her fingers were long and slender, her nails short and unpolished. She had calluses on her palms, she obviously worked hard with her hands.
Her touch was firm, her hands warm and tingles of electricity pulsed through them to me. It felt good and was embarrassing as I could feel my face redden and my prick stiffen.
Neither lady said anything. the cold spot on my heart melted as her eyes turned silver. “A major Summoning Spell, Queen Vialle, tuned to his heart and mind. He knows but cannot speak of it nor write or make it known to any of his kin or family,” she announced in an eerie whisper.
“Can you remove it, Roelle? Without harming him?”
“He is a spy, my Queen. Would you suffer a spy in the Royal Household?”
“He is Merlin’s son and Corwin’s grandson. Random’s nephew. Moreover, he is only a 15 year old child who needs our help,” the Queen reiterated. “So yes, I would suffer his presence. It is up to you to make him an ally and not our enemy.”
“I will try, my Queen.” Her eyes glowed silver white and I disappeared into them as she fought a battle for possession of my will and my soul.