It was nearly a week before Merlin brought me down out of the lighthouse and onto the beach. I didn’t make it on my own, he and Corwin put me in a wheelchair and transported me via the Trumps. It was smoother than an elevator and took less time than going down the circular staircase. I hadn’t been looking forward to that. Dressed in heavy wool with blankets piled on me, I sat like a mummified old man and let them do whatever they wanted with me. I hadn’t seen or heard from the Master or his Hell Hounds and was beginning to hope I was safe here. I truly wanted to believe Merlin but I had tried before and hope was not something the Master had left me. I existed in a state of numbness, waiting for the events of fate to drop me.
Merlin pushed me down the rocky beach and I noted with some interest that a lovely sailboat was berthed at the end of a dock. Her sails were up and there was a rearing red Unicorn on the mainsail. “Yours?” I asked Corwin, he seemed the type to be in love with sailing.
He grinned. “The Great Escape,” he named the boat. “I used her once to escape from my prison cell as a guest of Eric.”
I stared out at the breakers and the reef. “I get sea-sick. I almost died from it on the ship from Anthis.”
“You don’t want to sail?” he asked and I shook my head no. Looked at the rocky shoreline, mounds of seaweed that had washed ashore and sea shells scattered in the sand. The huge bushes of purple flowers as large as my outstretched hand. It was peaceful. Saw the footsteps in the sand, small ones like that girl. I wondered where she was.
“Who is she? Why did she cry when she saw me?” They knew who I meant. “What am I going to do?” I broke into a paroxysm of sobbing and both men enfolded me in their arms. I smelled subtle cologne and ozone, the scent of power and it triggered a memory of a gray man who had protected me. “Murph,” I whispered. “The gray man is Murphy.”
“Your...morph,” Merlin agreed. “And the girl is Roelle, your first...friend. Do you remember her?”
“Did I fuck her?” I flinched when I said that. Apologized and tried to explain. Told them what the Master had forced me to do to survive.
“Raven, did anyone rape you?” Merlin’s jaw clenched and his rage was palpable. I shuddered. Images from those early months were fractured and unbearable, I couldn’t remember anything but pain and misery.
“I don’t know. There were months when I was not in my own head, you know? The Master said he didn’t, he never touched me that way. Said it would negate his magic and make my worth null. He did send me to a brothel and let me have my fill. I’ve done terrible, evil things in his name. I killed your General, your friend, only one of many.” I swallowed. “I expect I will have to pay for my deeds, when I am healed, will your king hang me?”
“Hang you? We didn’t spend half a fortune saving you only to hang!” Corwin’s outburst was angry.
“How will you atone for the General’s death to your privy council and his family?” I asked. “Or are you in the habit of allowing murderers and assassins to go unpunished?”
Both of them were silent. I grimaced, in truth, I didn’t care whether I lived or died save that it was painless and permanent.
“Raven, you said Webster brought you back from the dead? How? Are you sure you were dead and it wasn’t just an illusion? He was good at those when I knew him,” Merlin said turning back towards the Lighthouse. The sun was going down and there was a decided nip in the air.
“What season is this?” I wondered.
“Fall,” they answered, staring at me oddly. I wasn’t sure what day, year or season I was in.
“I remember the smell of leaves burning in the fall, apples and cinnamon. Smoke and fire around a metal barrel. A gray man who gave me a birthday cake. How old am I? When was I born? Did you know my mother? All I have are dreams of a Unicorn. Nothing is left of the life I had before.”
Corwin put his fingers in his mouth and blew two short, sharp whistles and stared up at the skies. Presently, we saw a black dot circling at the height of an eagle and it dropped lower in lazy spirals until the gargoyle landed on two clawed feet, shrank and became a man. Gray haired, gray eyed with a smile as large as a pumpkin’s.
“Raven. How are you feeling today?” He took my hands and I rubbed my fingers on his flesh. He wore only a pair of shorts that hung low on his torso, he was impressively muscled and larger than me. His flesh was slightly cooler than mine but it was flesh and not stone, he was a man and not a monster.
“I don’t really remember you, Murphy,” I said frankly. “Do you know how old I am or when my birthday is? Or know my mother?”
“You are seventeen years old, Raven and your birthday is the Feast Day of St. Michael’s in November. I did know your mother, I was born of her blood to protect and serve you.” He hung his head. “Alas, my master, I failed you.”
“You let that...monster take me. Where were you when I needed you?” I asked cruelly, not caring that I was being so or if I hurt his feelings.
“But, you and the boy Marcus went to town on your own, un-escorted and without permission,” he protested. “Unguarded.”
“And Marcus? Was he taken, too?”
“No, Raven. Only you. Marcus came back to the palace, brought your father, grandfather and guards to search for you but all we found were your clothes and the remnants of a spell. We searched the shadows for you. For two years; we have searched and all we found were rumors of an assassin called Blackbird.”
“I was taken from a back alley. From two men who tried to rape me,” I remembered. “That’s where I saw the Oreo.”
“Oreo?”
“You know, like the cookie. Black on the outside and white in the middle. The black and white man. The one with the silver balls he twirled between his fingers. He saved me from the rapists and brought me to this place. It was cold, and then I met the Lady.”
“Lady?” Merlin jumped in. I shivered in the chill air.
“Can we go inside, please? It’s cold out here.”
Corwin thumbed out his Trump of the top of the Lighthouse and we walked forward into the very same room without any of the effort of climbing all those stairs. I wasn’t able to lift myself out of the wheelchair and Murphy did the honors this time. He placed me carefully back in bed with pillows behind my back so that I could sit up to eat or whatever. Earlier, Corwin had given me a sponge bath and dressed me in clean pajamas. It felt great to be clean and wearing clean clothes but the effort had exhausted me and I’d fallen asleep to dream. I didn’t tell them my dreams, I tried to forget them entirely so they wouldn’t haunt my days.
Dinner was served by the girl, Roelle and she seemed to be both nervous and excited around me. She brought a tray laden with soup, sandwiches and fresh fruits, all cut up and easy to handle as if I couldn’t feed myself. Surprisingly, when I tried to lift my arm to my mouth, it shook all over the place. The harder I persisted in trying to hold it steady, the more it shook. I eyed the soup with trepidation, I really didn’t want to wear my food.
“Here, let me,” she said laughing. “I can do it faster and neater. Besides, it’s too hot and would burn you in a very bad spot.”
I looked down at my lap and agreed with her. She spooned the thick, meaty broth into my mouth. It tasted good, I wanted more and before I had realized it, I’d eaten the whole bowl. The sandwich was peanut butter and grape jelly. At the first bite, I swallowed and stared at Murphy. “You used to feed me peanut butter and grape jelly ever Friday, Murphy.”
“You remember that it was your favorite snack, Raven?”
“I remember, Murphy. No matter where we were, you would sit me down, tell me a story about Ireland and magic and feed me PBJ sandwiches until I fell asleep.”
In the morning, Roelle woke me with a cheery good morning and breakfast. She set the tray down and lifted the covers to reveal fluffy orange eggs, scones and a green tonic that the Queen had sent with orders to finish all of it.
I eyed the food, steam was coming off the hot plates and I asked if it was cooked downstairs. “Oh no, Prince Raven,” she said spooning the eggs onto a slice of toast. “The Chefs in the palace kitchens make it, and then Prince Corwin trumps it over here. Me, too.”
“You mean you don’t sleep here?”
“No. Only Prince Corwin and Murphy. Murphy actually doesn’t sleep much. He flies overhead patrolling while you sleep and when the Prince isn’t here, Murphy is on top of the Lighthouse roof,” she explained.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“I can answer that,” Corwin said coming up the stairs. “Think of it like a bubble in space, a fold in the reality that only a few people have the key to.”
“What stops anyone else from entering here?” I returned uneasily and skeptical.
“They would have to have my Trump and the ability to walk the Pattern. Unless you can picture the Lighthouse exactly down to the finite detail, you won’t enter this place,” he explained patiently. “If you’re afraid that Webster or Mandor or Dara will find you here, it would be a billion to one chance.” He took the spoon from Roelle. “I’ll feed him, Roelle,” he said. “Dr. Flauvel will be here after he eats to check him over. Do you think you can sit up, Raven?”
“My name is Corbel, or Blackbird,” I said wearily. “Not Raven. Raven died two years ago.”
“You’re Raven, not Blackbird,” he insisted. “You are a prince of both Amber and the Courts of Chaos. You’re not a slave or a prisoner.”
“He owns my soul,” I whispered. “No matter what you say, I belong to him.”