Postcards from Infinite Shadow:

On the Subject of Corwin

Á qui de droit,

Morning came, and I woke to find I was still indecisive on what I should do about Father. For some reason, dealing with his wishes does that to me. I spent a moment or two trying to decide before I got out of bed, failed miserably, and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Uncle Corwin joined me for the meal - it strikes me now that he was up unusually early, but I'm not sure what that might mean - and I apologized for my rudeness. He seemed to think it was nothing, and I guess maybe it was in the scale of things, but I felt like it needed to be done. And then we discussed the whole thing with Father.

Okay, so admittedly it wasn't the best question I've ever asked - "how upset is he?" - but at least Uncle knew who I was talking about and was willing to admit that he had no idea. The thing about the conversation that rattled me was that I truly had no idea what Father wanted, and Uncle Corwin rightfully refused to just tell me. I know he was trying to push me into figuring it out, but I didn't have the knowledge - or rather, the perspective - to find the answer.

He finally left me to my own devices - and almost immediately, Yasumi and Pika called and wanted through. They wished to go back to China and check out the inn that burned down, since it was apparently not the fault of Pika's brother.

So I did a stupid thing. I grabbed my sketchbook and took off with them. Didn't bother to say goodbye. I guess... A lot of my concern was whether Uncle would be okay with Pika - given the Chaos heritage and House membership and all - but to be completely honest, I also have to admit that I was upset enough with the thing with Father to be more flighty than usual, and I was a little frustrated with Uncle Corwin for the way our conversation had gone. I'm not going to use the excuse that I wasn't thinking straight, and I wasn't really trying to be rude - really and truly rude this time - but that's how it turned out.

The walk... didn't go as planned. All I wanted was some practical clothing, but we found Dodge City and a gunfight instead. Yasumi got me out of the way, but Pika decided to try to participate in the shoot-out. Okay, yes, they were kind of aiming with us as targets - but running is always a better option than standing up against three gunmen!

She managed to hit one of them, and then Yasumi and I took care of the rest. And then we hustled the hell out of there by Trump to get Pika some medical attention. The massive bleeding was not so good, but Yasumi carried her while I activated the Trump and then called an ambulance.

Yeah, next time I've got someone with gunshot wounds, I think I'll be going elsewhere. I forgot how touchy New York cops are. That was embarrassing. At least Yasumi was able to handle them long enough for us to Trump out again. Same Trump, too, but at least we weren't in the hospital any more. Given the state of Yasumi's and Pika's shirts - bloody and missing, respectively - I handed them paint-covered smocks for the journey out of the Shadow.

Pika needed a while to recuperate - not sure why, as fast as she was healing, but whatever. I decided that if we had to go somewhere, I might as well enjoy myself - and it's always Carnivale in Rio if you know where to look. I handed off the gun belt to someone on the street as we came in; after all, walking around armed sometimes attracts trouble, but guns always attract attention. Let someone else handle the problems. And if they use the guns - well, Carnivale isn't all sunshine.

It pays to know the best hotels, too; I got a suite for the other two and a room for me. My own room. A room where I didn't have to look at other people in the morning unless I slept with them the night before. No offense to Pika and Yasumi, but I was starting to really want some privacy. I wasn't going to share what I brought home, either, and it's easier to not share if the other people don't know what you have.

As soon as I got the other two to their rooms and checked out mine, I headed down into the street - Wild West gear and all. After all, what's one more costume at Carnivale? It didn't seem to bother the boy I brought back to keep myself busy.

Of course, some people have the worst timing. Right in the middle of things, I get a Trump call. I disengaged, ducked into the bathroom - stark naked, which is completely unsurprising given the nature of the things I was up to - and wrapped a towel around myself before answering.

So, let's talk about stupid mistake number two.

The call was Uncle Corwin. He was justifiably upset that I'd left without saying goodbye, and I then did a thing worse than brushing him off and worse than being rude.

I lied to him.

If I were trying to defend myself, I'd say that I was rattled still, and flustered at being called when I was called and at the fact I'd been shot at - all that stuff. I don't need to defend myself, though. The simple truth is that I fucked up badly.

I told him I forgot. I didn't. Truth is, I'm still not sure if it's okay to be hanging around with Pika, given that she's attached to a House of Chaos and all - and I don't even actually know which House. Yasumi didn't worry me too much, but I was a little concerned about Pika. I don't even know if Uncle realizes she's from Chaos - and there was that part where I was in his place and I didn't want to provoke him.

Well, I managed that last part on my own. He called me "mendacious" and hung up.

I don't know what made me decide it was a good idea to let him simmer for a while. I honestly don't. The only thing that springs to mind is that I was too wrapped up in what I was doing to pay attention to what I'd just done - and I don't want that to be the answer.

Even if that's got to be part of what happened - I don't want that to be the answer. I'm not that bad yet. I can't be that selfish yet. Thera was that selfish, but she was a hermit and no one minded until she came into Calais and stabbed Juliette because Franklin preferred a girl who wanted to go out once in a while. She used to lash out at people when they interrupted what she was doing - I know she shrieked at me a few times when I wanted to watch her paint after she went hermit, even though she'd let me watch before.

I did think he might need a few days to cool down. I did. And that's why I didn't call back immediately. That's all it is. I only went back to the sex because there wasn't anything else to do. It's not the other stuff - the obsessive selfishness. It's not that.

So I went back and finished the night. And in the morning, I kicked the guy out, checked on Pika and Yasumi - not much to see there - and then tried to call Uncle Corwin back.

He barely answered before hanging up.

I called him back.

He did the same thing.

I called him again.

He swatted me down that time. I only call it a swat because he held back. With black spots and other things that shouldn't be there swimming in my vision and a migraine throbbing through my head, I put his Trump away and did the only thing I could - I slept.

When I woke up again the next morning, I checked on the other two. They were the same as the day before - Pika was tired and Yasumi was watching over her. I went back to my room and tried Uncle Corwin again...

...And slept the rest of that day, too. The spots were red that time, and the other things were larger and uglier.

The next morning, I checked on the other two. Then I went out on the streets again. I couldn't bear to try the same call again. I thought he needed time to cool down. I thought maybe - if I tried again later - he'd talk to me. In a few days, maybe. And a few days became the rest of the week and all of a second week.

I was afraid to call him again, really. If I pushed him much farther, he could do serious damage. He probably wouldn't. I think. But he still could. And sometimes I do know when it's better to not push my luck.

And let me be honest with myself again - I was a little hurt. No, I was a lot hurt. I've gotten reprimands from him before, but that was way past a reprimand. I know I deserved it for harrassing him, but... It's like - this is an awful analogy. I had a stuffed rabbit that Charles gave me when I was still young enough to care about stuffed animals. I used to sleep with that bunny; his name was Ivory. It'd be like if that one day up and bit me because I dropped it on the bed to go draw something. I know it's not exactly the same - and it really is a horrible comparison - but the feeling of shock would be the same.

And the mild feeling of betrayal because someone you care about hurt you - that would be the same, too. But I'm over that part now. Mostly. I just - it's Uncle Corwin, damn it. He's never been anything other than nice to me, even when he was scolding me.

So why the hell did I lie to him? And then pester him when I knew he wasn't going to take my calls until he was ready to, no matter how many times I tried?

God, I'm a fuck-up.

Carnivale and Pika's convalescence ended at the same time. We moved on to China - without interruption this time - and acquired rooms at an inn. We weren't too far from the ill-fated inn of the last trip, since that's where we planned to look.

We spent a while asking questions and getting nowhere, and then Yasumi took us off to one of the two bridges in town. Apparently she'd lost someone who fled the inn as the fire was starting near that bridge. I recognised it because I'd sketched it last time. Funny how that worked...

I sketched different angles of the bridge for a while, but something was nagging. Gemini - yes, Pika had changed gender again - and Yasumi were examining it in detail. It's a nice bridge - I could easily make a Trump of the place if I was so inclined. I'm not, particularly, but I could.

The peasant fishing off the bridge kept catching my attention. Something wasn't quite right with him. I couldn't put my finger on it - so I got up and went to see.

"Hello, daughter," he said - and I sat down next to him, because there wasn't really anything else to do. If Father looks for you and wants to talk, you listen, y'know?

I was riding a wave of nerves for most of the conversation. What did he want? "Assume your responsibilities as my daughter" means what, exactly? Why is he not actually letting me see his face? I've really pissed him off this time, haven't I. I didn't realize I was on anyone else's timeline to reach the kind of maturity he wants to see in me. Whatever kind of maturity that is.

It's funny. I've never really been frightened of Father. Despite all my worries about him beating the hell out of me if I get too far out of line, I'm not afraid of him. I'm mostly worried about it because it would hurt - and I'm not sure either one of us would forgive me for pushing him that far. I tend to give in to him when I know I've pushed as far as I can - but it's always because I don't want to hit that extreme.

I guess I didn't realize he had other extremes to hit. That he would threaten to - I still can't...

I guess... I guess I deserved having him ask me that, didn't I?

I mean - I think I've spent more time with Uncle Corwin than I have with Father the last few years. And I know I've spent more time off in Shadow than I've spent with either of them. I just - there's too much to see out in Shadow. I know I've got the time to see as much of it as I want to see, but I can't help myself - I try to cram as much in as I can on each trip out.

I can see where that would look like I don't care - about responsibility, about Amber, about Father. But it's not that. It's just... Life and Art are one thing, so if the urge hits me, it takes everything I have to not obey the urge. I can't be who I am without that need - and I know I'm talking about Art like it's an addiction. It is - I can't deny that. There's nothing better than the intoxicating feeling of painting a sunrise or a river, or the sweet silence of a picnic under a midday eclipse. There's nothing that drives me crazier than needing to draw or paint something and being unable to. I can do it - that's the only reason I know I'm not actually addicted.

I don't even know what my responsibilities are - so how can I know if they'll conflict with my art? That's what scares me. I can change; I can adapt. I can, in time, learn to control the impulse to create. But if it's just an outright conflict - I can't change that completely. I can't wake up every day knowing I have to be responsible but not artistic - I can't.

But I don't want to be disowned. I don't know if I could handle that - I can't imagine not knowing I belong somewhere. And I know that if it happens - because I can't deny that it might still happen - I won't be able to face him again. Maybe no one else would see the look in his eyes, but I'd be staring at the same disappointment and the same anger and the same sadness every time I looked into a mirror and every time I looked into my own heart.

I really hate pouring out my emotions on paper. The words look so stark and sterile and lonely. But sometimes I have to do it just so I can get it all out of my head so I can think again.

Father told me to call him in a week, and all I could really say was, "yes, sir." And that was it. He didn't say anything else, and I'm not so clueless that I don't recognise one of his dismissals when it's directed at me. I got up and walked off.

Almost immediately, Gemini accosted me and informed me that the bridge was apparently normal, although he hadn't checked with any sort of power. He was planning to do that next, and I hustled him off quickly.

Yeah, let's not play the summon-Chaos-powers-next-to-Father game. Especially since I've been hanging out with you and I still don't know if it's okay, and he's really pissed off at me right now.

I got him a certain distance away, told him when he asked that I'd spoken to Father and it had upset me a little, and then headed back to the inn. I left Gemini and Yasumi to their own devices there at the bridge. At least that way if Gemini summoned his power, I didn't have to deal with it.

I pretty much barricaded myself in my room for a while. All the rest of that day. The next. And the next. I didn't break anything - I tried that one time, but I was forced to repair everything I broke, so I haven't repeated the exercise often. Most of what I did was think, if somewhat incoherently, and draw, and paint, and ruin bad art with hot tears. I tried to sleep three times, but the dreams kept me from trying again.

I remember the first one clearly. I was chasing someone through a storm, a storm that somehow they had caused - it was behaving like a Shadow storm, moving in a front across Shadow after Shadow. And someone was chasing me down, but the rain shield was too thick and I couldn't tell who it was. I tried to catch up with the one in front of me, but the people before and behind me sped up when I did. I knew I wasn't supposed to be there, and every moment it seemed my horse would be brought down by lightning, but I couldn't stop the chase - until I woke, gasping for breath, and realized I'd slept for perhaps an hour and wouldn't be sleeping again for a few hours.

There were two others, both fragments from catnaps that lasted less than thirty minutes. One began as a memory of the first time I saw Tir-na Nog'th and quickly shifted to a nightmare again, something lurid and red. The other - I don't remember. It was a pleasant thing, and Father was involved somehow, and I woke up, curled into a fetal position, and spent a good hour sobbing.

The worst part, though - the worst part was looking for a blank page in my sketchbook and finding a note: "You could have at least said goodbye. -Corwin."

I sat there for a long time when I found that. I don't know how long I stared at it. I don't actually remember breathing. I should have looked in my sketchbook before I left Uncle Corwin's place. I should have looked when we reached Rio. I should have - I didn't, and the only reason I can think of to explain why is that I was too absorbed in myself and what was going on with Pika and Yasumi.

It would have taken only a minute to check the pages - and maybe five to tell him I was leaving. Six minutes wouldn't have changed a damn thing that happened. What is wrong with me?

Some time when I lock myself in a room to think, maybe I'll remember to keep the food coming. That always seems to attract the most attention. It's not that I haven't shown up - it's that I haven't asked for food. Every time. I mean, it's not like two and a half days without food is going to kill me!

The morning of the third day, Yasumi and Gemini showed up. Gemini came and knocked first, but Yasumi and a basket of fruit came right behind him. I only let them in because they would have kept plaguing me otherwise. Well, that, and I'm sure Gemini would have figured out a way to let himself in whether I wanted to see him or not.

We had the same kind of discussion as the one Uncle Corwin and I had - one of the frusterating, "Diana has no idea what her Father wants," kind. In this case, we rapidly came to the conclusion that I didn't know what my responsibilities where, and that I should ask Father. The suggestion was made that I call him then and ask, but I knew I ought to wait and ask at the appointed time. To call early and ask that particular question - well, it was going to look an awful lot like I was coming up with a conditional response. So, we waited.

Now, we were also waiting to see if anyone tried to burn the inn down around us again - but that was trivial as long as it didn't happen. And it didn't, so I called Father right on schedule.

I finally took the right conversational road and told him right off that I didn't know what my responsibilities were. I think it was the right road - it at least avoided the possibility of blundering around and pissing him off further. He set me a quest - make up with Uncle Corwin.

...Well, I was going to do that anyway. And now I'm presented with a dilemna. If I'm completely honest with Uncle Corwin and tell him that I was assigned this quest, I'm only going to damage my own argument. When one is ordered on quests, one is not normally eager and willing to do it - and that's a truism often enough that the natural conclusion would be that I wasn't that interested in making things right with him.

But if I don't tell him - then I'm hurting my argument in the long run. It's kind of a choice between admiting the possibility of an insincere apology now or later.

I know I'm going to do it now, really. If it were to come out later, that would be a second betrayal, and I don't think Uncle Corwin is going to give me more than two chances. I don't blame him, either. I wouldn't give me more than two chances.

But then should I tell him that if I don't succeed, I'm going to have to face being disowned? I think I'm going to have to, if I'm going to be completely honest with him. It's another thing that can really hurt my chances that he'll accept the apology. And if I don't tell him, I can't see that he'll find out from Father - but if he does, I'll be back to square one again.

Damn it. I know I'm going to end up telling him everything, so why am I trying to convince myself not to? I have to tell him everything, or it's going to turn out badly in the long run.

I told the other two about my quest - they wanted to know, because Pika is insisting that I'm her friend and that it's her obligation to try and help me. I'm not sure I believe that, really. I'm not sure I've earned her friendship or vice versa. It's not like I've gone out of my way to be nice to her, and the only reason I was helping her find the junk is that it is personally irritating to me to have my chosen method of transportation disappear as soon as I walk away from it. Sometimes I wonder why I stick around - but I think I know why.

I have a candelabra in my bedroom in Amber that the Tiffanys made just for me. I had to talk them out of the electrical fittings and into the lampshade, but it was well worth the effort. The base is a soaring ceramic statue - I asked Charles to sculpt me a Muse, and glaze it how he wanted. The colors spiral up her dress and drip down her upraised arms to delicate fingertips that support the shade on either side. They eddy in her hair and pool in the shadows at the base of her neck like the stain of fine wine. Each pane of glass on the lampshade is double-layered; the top one is clear, the bottom a beautiful stained opaque. Between the two layers is a single piece of jewelry - a ring, a necklace, a bracelet, a brooch. The whole shade is shaped like a crown, and lit candles make it glow like the sunset. Louis, like his father, outdid himself.

The thing about the candelabra, though, is that I've never been able to figure out or replicate the shade. I just can't get the first layer of glass to hold while I pour the second, and I don't know what other method Louis could have used to get the jewelry inside. I tried a thin clear pane and filler, but that doesn't achieve the same look. Now, I also admit that I'm by no means an expert manipulator of glass - but I'm still puzzled.

Yasumi is a puzzle of that level. It will take less time to find her secrets - in that she can talk and the lampshade cannot - but in the meantime, I'm left wondering what I'm missing. She's so inordinately nice and polite - but she's been completely unfazed by walking and Trumping through Shadow. And that "old Korean legend" was funny, but approached the eerily accurate, considering the place in Shadow where we found her. The book of William's works is just as curious; I wasn't aware that my relatives cared to hand out anachronistic books to random people on boats, but I could be wrong about that.

I let them talk me into a detour to 1920s Chicago to record what they claimed was a previously unrecorded jam session by two jazz musicians - I didn't get over into the jazz sector often, so the names weren't familiar. It was a nice little evening - but I couldn't settle down and enjoy it. There were too many things on my mind.

From there we headed back to Uncle Corwin's place. He wasn't home - or so the butler said - so I scribbled out a half-assed note and handed it over as the footmen made off with the music and the player we'd brought. We decided to stay for a while to see if he'd return; the butler was unhelpful as to when that would be, but Amber was the only other place I knew to look for him.

I tried to call Father and ask if he knew where my Uncle was, but he didn't answer. That didn't particularly surprise me. We ended up going to bed without knowing.

Next morning, in the process of wandering the house, I found a room around which servants were bustling. Naturally, I was curious, so I stopped and watched. The room - and it's contents - were torn to shreds. Things were broken, things were ripped, and it generally looked like a war zone. Given who owned the mansion, there were only a handful of possibilities for what had happened. I leapt to the conclusion that hurt the most - that Uncle Corwin was upset enough with me to break things - and fled the scene to lock myself away again.

I hadn't been there nearly long enough to feel better when Pika came knocking. She wanted to know what was wrong; I sent her down to look at the broken room. Then I had to point out why this upset me. Then she wanted me to come out. I didn't really want to come out, but I sighed, gave her a shopping list, and agreed to come out when she had the stuff bought and set up somewhere outside. Might as well do some abstract work if she's not going to leave me to brood in peace.

Too soon after that, a footman came to tell me that Pika had the things. I followed him outside and found that not only did Pika have the things, she'd set up a picnic for herself and Yasumi.

I looked at the picnic, shrugged, and started to paint. It's never a good sign when I have to resort to abstract work. I'm not a fan of the genre, but it's good for pouring out emotions in a way that can never actually hurt anyone's feelings.

I painted bold streaks and frightened whirls of brown and orange and yellow, and put my own red handprint in the middle - that was blood ties and frusteration and that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when Father threatened to disown me. The black and pale grey one that spun and danced and swirled - that was remorse for the dumbass shit I'd done to hurt my Uncle. The amber and white and green one with the careful straight lines - that was duty and responsibility and vague thoughts of home. The others blur together; I'd have to see them again to be able to say what they were.

While I worked, a young girl showed up. Her name, apparently, was Arabella. It seemed that Pika had met her the night before. She was a bit of a tomboy. I remember those days - I just never caught frogs.

When it became too dark to play, I left the canvases there and headed inside to shower. I'd ruined the dress and covered about 200 degrees around the easel with paint, including my exposed skin. I still hurt inside, but at least I'd worked off enough to be functional for a few hours. We had dinner.

Somewhere during the day - and I'm afraid that exactly when has escaped me - Pika asked to sleep in my room. Apparently she was having some sort of shapeshifting problem. I agreed, just as long as she stayed on the couch and didn't end up in bed with me and in her male form. Still not interested. I gather from her reaction that she's not interested either; I didn't think she was, but it's always nice to have these things confirmed.

On the way back from dinner, I stopped to chat with Arabella. She's a very good pianist for her age, and Uncle obviously lets her use his instrument - and that leads me down mental paths that it is probably better to forget I even thought them. I don't thnk that's what's going on here, because I think she'd know more than she's said and implied so far, and I think he'd be a bit more wary - but at the same time, he could not tell her, which would be a great protection... She's young enough that it's hard to tell, anyway.

This would be me evading the question with something that's currently trivial and probably wrong.

She tried very hard to cheer me up - even offered me chocolate, although I didn't have the heart to take it from her. She mentioned briefly that her mother said there'd been a fight in the broken room - that gave me a scare. All she knew further was that a "bad man" did it; I agreed to not tell her mother that she'd told me, but her mother - the housekeeper - was completely unhelpful when I asked her what had happened.

I gave up and went looking for Pika and Yasumi. They were up in their rooms; Pika was summoning dresses for me and dark clothing for Yasumi. I told them about Arabella's news, and they were justifiably concerned. Pika said they were going to go "find out how gullible these servants are" - I went to my room.

After a little while, they called me to ask if I could move them through Shadow a little so they could do something obscure and related to Pika's Chaos-based powers. I shrugged, walked them to a close Shadow, and stalked back.

Finally, I called Father again and mentioned my concerns. He then informed me that he knew Uncle Corwin was in a fight, because he'd been Arabella's "bad man." Not only that, but my Uncle was now in the infirmary after being stitched up by Uncle Random. That would be the infirmary in Amber.

Father also suggested I bring flowers. Somehow I don't think that's going to cut it. At that point I realized that I didn't really want to bring him the music, either. It felt an awful lot like I'd be bribing him. That's the last thing I want to do. Friendship, affection, family - those are things that suffer when you buy them from anyone who isn't a child. They tarnish and weaken and fade, and nothing afterwards will save them. No, I'm not going to do that.

Once Father and I finished talking, I walked outside again and did a little primal scream therapy. I'm afraid I worried Uncle Corwin's guards, and it didn't make me feel any better, but it was something. Especially since I couldn't find my paintings from earlier so I could break them - they were pretty awful anyway. I guess I'll leave them here for now; maybe Uncle Corwin will want them.

I'm leaving the music we recorded here, too. If he wants it, it's his. If he doesn't, I'm sure he'll find some way to dispose of it.

When Yasumi and Pika returned, I informed them that the struggle was due to Father. We once again discussed heading for Amber. I need to ask Yasumi just how she knows that the city and Palace are separate. I need to ask Father about Pika - but first I need to ask her what house she belongs to. I need to get to Amber, with our without Pika and Yasumi. But most of all, I need to apologize to Uncle Corwin and convince him of my sincerity.

I'm beginning to think this may be something I have to do on my own, so I need to think of ways to ditch the other two before I head to the Palace. I might just leave the room and Trump out - although that will probably get me into more trouble. I could leave a note... But then I'd be leaving them alone in Uncle Corwin's place, and I have no idea what he'd think of that.

Maybe I can get them to Arden and Trump in from there. I can send them with a note, and Kara at the Bronze Leaf will give them rooms until I'm ready to leave; the Leaf ought to be safe enough for their mental comfort and interesting enough to keep them out of trouble for a few days. Unfortunately, there's no guarantee they'll get there, given both the detours that keep happening and the disposition of those involved, and there's still the tricky issue of whether or not Pika's end of things would start thinking of kidnapping if she goes to Amber.

Sometimes I wish I could back up time and do things over, so that maybe it'll all turn out fine again, and I won't hit my emotional bottom again. This is one of those times.

Fin.