He didn’t finish his sentence, but rose and fetched paper, ink, and a cup full of brushes. After clearing a space on one of the tables, he sat and began to sketch with a quick, sure hand.
I recognized the picture immediately: the street outside Helda’s house. He drew burnt-out ruins where her home had been, with only the stone chimney still standing.
“No…” I said. “I don’t want to go there. Anywhere else, please!”
“You know this street well,” he said, “and that will help you concentrate. It is the only place we have both been recently.”
“Ilerium isn’t safe!”
“It should be by now. Time moves a lot differently between these two Shadows… a single day here is almost two weeks there.”
“What about my pattern?” I asked. He hadn’t drawn the image the way Aber had, starting with the Logrus in the background, but went straight to drawing the street. “Don’t you need to work it into the picture?”
He gave a low chuckle. “You begin to see the difference between Aber and me,” he said. “Aber does not understand why the Trumps work. He doesn’t want to understand. Instead, he slavishly copies my own early efforts, when I painted a flat representation of the Logrus as part of each card, behind the image. It helped me concentrate. The Logrus does not actually need to be part of the card… but it does need to be foremost in the artist’s mind as he creates. It shapes the picture as much as the human hand. They are, after all, one and the same.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You do not need to. That is my point!”
He dipped his pen in the inkwell and finished quickly. The image was sketchy, little better than a simple line drawing, with the faintest hints of shape to the background. But despite the lack of detail, it had an unmistakable power that I could feel as I gazed upon it. A power which the Logrus Trumps no longer held.
I concentrated on the scene, and it swiftly grew more real… colors entered… a deep blue sky… black for the burnt-out foundations to either side… blue-gray cobblestones littered with broken red roof tiles… and suddenly I looked out onto the street in late afternoon. Not a single building still stood, just fire-blackened chimneys by the dozens. Neither man nor beast stirred anywhere that I could see.
Had I stepped forward, I would have passed through to safety. Kingstown and Ilerium lay within my reach.
Dworkin’s hand abruptly covered the picture. Blinking, I stood before him again.
“It worked!” he said, and I heard the awe in his voice. “We can leave!”
“Make more Trumps,” I told him, “for five distant Shadows, places where everyone will be safe. We’ll send everyone through, scatter the family to places our enemies will never find them.”
“Why separate?” he asked. “Surely together…”
“We still have a traitor among us,” I reminded him. “I don’t know who it is. But if only you and I know where everyone has gone, they will be safe. I think that’s how they found us here.”
“Yes,” he said, smiling now, his confidence returning. “A good plan. Freda and Pella can go together. Conner and Titus. Blaise and Isadora. Syara and Leona. Fenn and Aber. No one will be able to track them if they stay away from the Logrus…”
“Exactly.”
“You and I will go last,” he went on, eyes distant, envisioning some special Shadow. “We must work on mastering the pattern within you… for that is where our future hopes must rest.”
“Whatever you say, Dad.” I rose and clasped his shoulder. “Be strong for now. We’ll win. I’ll make sure of it.”
“I never had any doubts.” He smiled up at me.
Then I went to find the rest of our family. We had a castle to abandon.
With everyone living on the ground floor, I didn’t think it would take long to find all my brothers and sisters. I found Aber waiting impatiently outside Dworkin’s rooms.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Well what?”
“From the way you went racing in there, I thought something had happened. Did it?”
I shook my head. “Actually, we have come up with a plan. I think it’s going to work, too.”
“Great! Tell me about it. What can I do to help?”
“We have to find everyone first.”
“I just saw Freda and Pella in the kitchens,” he said.
“Fetch them. I’ll see who else I can find.”
We split up. I headed for the dining hall, and there I found Blaise, Titus, and Conner seated at the long table—now pushing up against the far wall. A cold supper of roast chicken, grilled vegetables, and what looked like meat pudding sat before them.
They grew silent the second I walked in, and from their guilty expressions, I knew they had been talking about me.
Well, let them. I had nothing to hide. And it looked very much like I’d be their savior.
“What news?” Conner asked after a few awkward seconds.
I said, “Our father has come up with a plan. He wants to see everyone in his workshop. Right now.”
“It’s about time,” Blaise said, throwing down her napkin and standing. “What is he up to?”
“Later,” I said, “when everyone gets there. Do you know where anyone else is?”
Blaise hesitated.
“Tell me! “I said.
“It’s Fenn and Isadora,” Conner said suddenly. “They aren’t here.”
“What!” I stared at the three of them. “Don’t tell me they’re trying to slip past the hell-creatures—”
“No,” Blaise said. “They left three days ago by Trump. Just before the problems started. They went for help. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone… they swore us to secrecy.”
I cursed. They might be dead or captured. Then a worse thought struck. Had we just found our traitor—or should I say, traitors?
“Do you know where they went?” I asked.
“It’s Locke’s fault,” Titus exclaimed. “He put them up to something.”
“They didn’t say,” Blaise said. “We were just supposed to cover for them.”