I asked him how I could locate him.Īnyway, I was here in Amber some years ago. Finding out where he was seemed of first importance. I did not ask him how he was managing it without my Trump. "Plenty of noble Amberites around with possible motives. Drawing back the drapes, he stared out for a time. He got to his feet, stepped over the room's other occupant, and made his way to the window. He had been having one of his melancholy spells, had snapped out of it one day and ridden off. Later, though, when I had asked after him, no one had any idea as to his whereabouts. Brand had still been in Amber when I had departed. I lay stretched out on my bed, smoking and thinking. I closed up shop with that hand and went home. "Not the ones in charge of memory, I hope." He had called me, and it was quite possible that I would be cutting his throat by letting anyone back in Amber in on the fact that he had gotten the message out. So I suppressed my impulse to yell for reinforcements. "Not bad," I said, "but I can't spare any more brothers at the moment. I wanted to be an irresponsible nonentity and just enjoy myself. That can get either boring or difficult fairly quickly, depending on how responsible you want to be. This time, I was not looking for a place where I would be especially important. It was a long ride - I will not bore you with the details - and it was pretty far from Amber, as such things go. It could have been that my subconscious - which was kind of footloose at the time - just seized on the available props out of habit. Ordinarily, of course, we get the message empty-handed, unless we are doing the calling.
I decided later that it must be our mental quirk associated with the Trumps that made me see it that way when someone was trying to reach me and I had cards in my hand - any cards. Also, I was physically strung out from a long day's gliding and not much sleep the night before. I had just finished a couple very hot sets and was still kind of high.
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