The Courts Of Chaos Chapter 7 A bowl of cotton candy. Having traversed the pass, I regarded the valley that lay before me. At least, I assumed that it was a valley. I could see nothing below its cover of cloud/mist/fog. In the sky, one of the red streaks was turning yellow; another, green. I was slightly heartened by this, as the sky had behaved in a somewhat similar fashion when I had visited the edge of things, across from the Courts of Chaos. I hitched up my pack and began hiking down the trail. The winds diminished as I went. Distantly, I heard some thunder from the storm I was fleeing. I wondered where Brand had gone. I had a feeling that I would not be seeing him again for a time. Partway down, with the fog just beginning to creep and curl about me, I spotted an ancient tree and cut myself a staff. The tree seemed to shriek as I severed its limb. "Damn you!" came something like a voice from within it. "You're sentient?" I said. "I'm sorry . . ." "I spent a long time growing that branch. I suppose you are going to burn it now?" "No," I said. "I needed a staff. I've a long walk before me." "Through this valley?" "That's right." "Come closer, that I may better sense your presence. There is something about you that glows." I took a step forward. "Oberon!" it said. "I know thy Jewel." "Not Oberon," I said. "I am his son. I wear it on his mission, though." "Then take my limb, and have my blessing with it. I've sheltered your father on many a strange day. He planted me, you see." "Really? Planting a tree is one of the few things I never saw Dad do." "I am no ordinary tree. He placed me here to mark a boundary." "Of what sort?" "I am the end of Chaos and of Order, depending upon how you view me. I mark a division. Beyond me other rules apply." "What rules?" "Who can say? Not I. I am only a growing tower of sentient lumber. My staff may comfort you, however. Planted, it may blossom in strange climes. Then again, it may not. Who can say? Bear it with you, however, son of Oberon, into the place where you journey now. I feel a storm approaching. Good-bye." "Good-bye," I said. "Thank you." I turned and walked on down the trail into the deepening fog. The pinkness was drained from it as I went. I shook my head as I thought about the tree, but its staff proved useful for the next several hundred meters, where the going was particularly rough. Then things cleared a bit. Rocks, a stagnant pool, some small, dreary trees festooned with ropes of moss, a smell of decay . . . hurried by. A dark bird was watching me from one of the trees. It took wing as I regarded it, flapping in a leisurely fashion in my direction. Recent events having left me a little bird-shy, I drew back as it circled my head. But then it fluttered to rest on the trail before me, cocked its head and viewed me with its left eye. "Yes," it announced then. "You are the one." "The one what?" I said. "The one I will accompany. You've no objection to a bird of ill omen following you, have you, Corwin?" It chuckled then, and executed a little dance. "Offhand, I do not see how I can stop you. How is it that you know my name?" "I've been waiting for you since the beginning of Time, Corwin." "Must have been a bit tiresome." "It has not been all that long, in this place. Time is what you make of it." I resumed walking. I passed the bird and kept going. Moments later, it flashed by me and landed atop a rock off to my right. "My name is Hugi," he stated. "You are carrying a piece of old Ygg, I see." "Ygg?" "The stuffy old tree who waits at the entrance to this place and won't let anyone rest on his branches. I'll bet he yelled when you whacked it off." He emitted peals of laughter then. "He was quite decent about it." "I'll bet. But then, he hadn't much choice once you'd done it. Fat lot of good it will do you." "It's doing me fine," I said, swinging it lightly in his direction. He fluttered away from it. "Hey! That was not funny!" I laughed. "I thought it was." I walked on by. For a long while, I made my way through a marshy area. An occasional gust of wind would clear the way nearby. Then I would pass it, or the fogs would shift over it once again. Occasionally, I seemed to hear a snatch of music-from what direction, I could not tell-slow, and somewhat stately, produced by a steel-stringed instrument.. As I slogged along, I was hailed from somewhere to my left: "Stranger! Halt and regard me!" Wary, I halted. Couldn't see a damned thing through that fog, though. "Hello," I said. "Where are you?" Just then, the fogs broke for a moment and I beheld a huge head, eyes on a level with my own. They belonged to what seemed a giant body, sunk up to the shoulders in a quag. The head was bald, the skin pale as milk, with a stony texture to it. The dark eyes probably seemed even darker than they really were by way of contrast. "I see," I said then. "You are in a bit of a fix. Can you free your arms?" "If I strain mightily," came the reply. "Well, let me check about for something stable you can grab onto. You ought to have a pretty good reach there." "No. That is not necessary." "Dont you want to get out? I thought that was why you hollered." "Oh, no. I simply wanted you to regard me." I moved nearer and stared, for the fog was beginning to shift again. "All right," I said. "I have seen you." "Do you feel my plight?" "Not particularly, if you will not help yourself or accept help." "What good would it do me to free myself?" "It is your question. You answer it." I turned to go. "Wait! Where do you travel?" "South, to appear in a morality play." Just then, Hugi flew out of the fog and landed atop the head. He pecked at it and laughed. "Don't waste your time, Corwin. There is much less here than meets the eye," he said. The giant lips shaped my name. Then; "He is indeed the one?" "That's him, all right," Hugi replied. "Listen, Corwin," said the sunken giant. "You are going to try to stop the Chaos, aren't you?" "Yes." "Do not do it. It is not worth it. I want things to end. I desire a release from this condition." "I already offered to help you out. You turned me down." "Not that sort of release. An end to the whole works." "That is easily done," I said. "Just duck your head and take a deep breath." "It is not only personal termination that I desire, but an end to the whole foolish game." "I believe there are a few other folks around who would rather make their own decisions on the matter." "Let it end for them, too. There will come a time when they are in my position and will feel the same way." "Then they will possess the same option. Good day." I turned and walked on. "You will, too!" he called after me. As I hiked along, Hugi caught up with me and perched on the end of my staff. "It's neat to sit on old Ygg's limb now he can't-Yikes!" Hugi sprang into the air and circled. "Burned my foot! How'd he do that?" he cried. I laughed. "Beats me." He fluttered for a few moments, then made for my right shoulder. "Okay if I rest here?" "Go ahead." "Thanks." He settled. "The Head is really a mental basket case, you know." I shrugged my shoulders and he spread his wings for balance. "He is groping after something," he went on, "but proceeding incorrectly by holding the world responsible for his own failings." "No. He would not even grope to get out of the mud," I said. "I meant philosophically." "Oh, that sort of mud. Too bad." "The whole problem lies with the self, the ego, and its involvement with the world on the one hand and the Absolute on the other." "Oh, is that so?" "Yes. You see, we are hatched and we drift on the surface of events. Sometimes, we feel that we actually influence things, and this gives rise to striving. This is a big mistake, because it creates desires and builds up a false ego when just being should be enough. That leads to more desires and more striving and there you are, trapped." "In the mud?" "So to speak. One needs to fix one's vision firmly on the Absolute and learn to ignore the mirages, the illusions, the fake sense of identity which sets one apart as a false island of consciousness." "I had a fake identity once. It helped me a lot in becoming the absolute that I am now-me." "No, that's fake, too." "Then the me that may exist tomorrow will thank me for it, as I do that other." "You are missing the point. That you will be fake, too." "Why?" "Because it will still be full of those desires and strivings that set you apart from the Absolute." "What is wrong with that?" "You remain alone in a world of strangers, the world of phenomena." "I like being alone. I am quite fond of myself. I like phenomena, too." "Yet the Absolute will always be there, calling to you, causing unrest." "Good, then there is no need to hurry. But yes, I see what you mean. It takes the form of ideals. Everyone has a few. If you are saying that I should pursue them, I agree with you." "No, they are distortions of the Absolute, and what you are talking about is more striving." "That is correct." "I can see that you have a lot to unlearn." "If you are talking about my vulgar instinct for survival, forget it." The trail had been leading upward, and we came now to a smooth, level place, almost paved-seeming, though strewn lightly with sand. The music had grown louder and continued to do so as I advanced. Then, through the fog, I saw dim shapes moving, slowly, rhythmically. It took several moments for me to realize that they were dancing to the music. I kept moving until I could view the figures-human seeming, handsome folk, garbed in courtly attire-treading to the slow measures of invisible musicians. It was an intricate and lovely dance that they executed, and I halted to watch some of it. "What is the occasion," I asked Hugi, "for a party out here in the middle of nowhere?" "They dance," he said, "to celebrate your passage. They are not mortals, but the spirits of Time. They began this foolish show when you entered the valley." "Spirits?" "Yes. Observe." He left my shoulder, flew above them and defecated. The dropping passed through several dancers as if they were holograms, without staining a brocaded sleeve or a silken shirt, without causing any of the smiling figures to miss a measure. Hugi cawed several times then and flew back to me. "That was hardly necessary," I said. "It is a fine performance." "Decadent," he said, "and you should hardly take it as a compliment, for they anticipate your failure. They but wish to get in a final celebration before the show is closed." I watched for a time anyway, leaning upon my staff, resting. The figure described by the dancers slowly shifted, until one of the women-an auburn-haired beauty-was quite near to me. Now, none of the dancers' eyes at any time met my own. It was as if I were not present. But that woman, in a perfectly timed gesture, cast with her right hand something which landed at my feet. I stooped and found it substantial. It was a silver rose-my own emblem-that I held. I straightened and fixed it at the collar of my cloak. Hugi looked the other way and said nothing. I had no hat to doff, but I did bow to the lady. There might have been a slight twitch at her right eye as I turned to go. The ground lost its smoothness as I walked, and finally the music faded. The trail grew rougher, and whenever the fogs cleared the only views were of rocks or barren plains. I drew strength from the Jewel when I would otherwise have collapsed, and I noted that each such fix was of shorter duration now. After a time, I grew hungry and I halted to eat what rations I had left. Hugi stood on the ground nearby and watched me eat. "I will admit to a certain small admiration for your persistence," he said, "and even for what you implied when you spoke of ideals. But that is about it. Earlier, we were talking about the futility of desire and of striving-" "You were. It is not a major concern in my life." "It should be." "I have had a long life, Hugi. You insult me by assuming I have never considered these footnotes to sophomore philosophy. The fact that you find consensus reality barren tells me more about you than it does about that state of affairs. To wit, if you believe what you say I feel sorry for you, in that you must for some inexplicable reason be here desiring and striving to influence this false ego of mine rather than free of such nonsense and on your way to your Absolute. If you do not believe it, then it tells me that you have been set to hinder and discourage me, in which case you are wasting your time." Hugi made a gargling noise. Then: "You are not so blind that you deny the Absolute, the beginning and end of everything?" "It is not indispensable to a liberal education." "You admit the possibility?" "Perhaps I know it better than you, bird. The ego, as I see it, exists at an intermediate stage between rationality and reflex existence. Blotting it out is a retreat, though. If you come from that Absolute-of a self-canceling All-why do you wish to go back home? Do you so despise yourself that you fear mirrors? Why not make the trip worthwhile? Develop. Learn. Live. If you have been sent on a journey why do you wish to cop out and run back to your point of departure? Or did your Absolute make a mistake in sending something of your caliber? Admit that possibility and that is the end of the news." Hugi glared at me, then sprang into the air and flew off. Going to consult his manual, perhaps. . . . I heard a peal of thunder as I rose to my feet. I began walking. I had to try to keep ahead of things. The trail narrowed and widened a number of times before it vanished completely, leaving me to wander across a gravelly plain. I felt more and more depressed as I traveled, trying to keep my mental compass set in the proper direction. I almost came to welcome the sounds of the storm, for they at least gave me a rough idea as to which way was north. Of course, things were a bit confusing in the fog, so that I could not be absolutely certain. And they were growing louder. . . . Damn. . . . And I had been grieved by the loss of Star, troubled by Hugi's futilitarianism. This was definitely not a good day. I began to doubt that I was going to complete my journey. If some nameless denizen of this dark place did not ambush me before too long, there was a strong possibility that I would wander here until my strength failed or the storm caught me. I did not know whether I would be able to beat back that canceling storm another time. I began to doubt it. I tried using the Jewel to disperse the fog, but its effects seemed blunted. By my own sluggishness, perhaps. I could clear a small area, but my rate of travel quickly bore me through it. My sense of Shadow was dulled in this place which seemed in some way the essence of Shadow. Sad. It would have been nice to go out with opera-in a big Wagnerian finale beneath strange skies, against worthy opponents-not scrabbling about in a foggy wasteland. I passed a familiar-seeming outcrop of stone. Could I have been moving in a circle? There is a tendency to do that when completely lost. I listened for the thunder, to take my bearings again. Perversely, all was silent. I moved to the outcrop and seated myself on the ground, resting my back against it. No sense to merely wandering. I would wait a time for the thunder's signal. I withdrew my Trumps as I sat there. Dad had said that they would be out of commission for a time, but I had nothing better to do. One by one, I went through them all, trying to reach everyone, save for Brand and Caine. Nothing. Dad had been right. The cards lacked the familiar coldness. I shuffled the entire deck then and cast my fortune, there on the sand. I got an impossible reading and put them all away again. I leaned back and wished I had some water left. For a long while, I listened for the storm. There were a few growls, but they were directionless. The Trumps made me think of my family. They were up ahead-wherever that might be-waiting for me. Waiting for what? I was transporting the Jewel. To what end? At first, I had assumed that its powers might be necessary in the conflict. If so, and if I were indeed the only one who could employ them, then we were in bad shape. I thought of Amber then, and I was shaken with remorse and a kind of dread. Things must not end for Amber, ever. There had to be a way to roll back the Chaos. . . . I threw away a small stone I had been toying with. Once I released it, it moved very slowly. The Jewel. Its slowdown effect again . . . I drew more energy and the stone shot away. It seemed that I had just taken strength from the Jewel a little while ago. While this treatment energized my body, my mind still felt fogged up. I needed sleep-with lots of rapid eye movements. This place might seem a lot less unusual if I were rested. How close was I to my destination? Was it just beyond the next mountain range, or an enormous distance farther? And what chance had I of staying ahead of that storm, no matter what the distance? And the others? Supposing the battle was already concluded and we had lost? I had visions of arriving too late, to serve only as gravedigger. . . . Bones and soliloquies, Chaos . . . And where was that damned black road now that I finally had a use for it? If I could locate it, I could follow it. I had a feeling that it was somewhere off to my left. . . . I reached out once again, parting the fogs, rolling them back. . . . Nothing . . . A shape? Something moving? It was an animal, a large dog perhaps, moving to remain within the fog. Was it stalking me? The Jewel began to pulse as I moved the fog even farther back. Exposed, the animal seemed to shrug itself. Then it moved straight toward me.