Chapter 3 CHAPTER 3

When I woke up in the morning she had gone out without leaving a message.Her maid laid breakfast for me in the kitchen, and then went about her usual work.I thought of trying to get some information out of this woman, but in the end I gave up the idea, because she either knew nothing or would not tell me, and would certainly report my attempt to Flora.I changed plans.Now that the house is all mine, I decided to go back to the study and see if I could find anything.Besides, I like the study.Beautiful, wise words surround me and make me feel safe.I always feel better to have something in front of me that resists the darkness.

Donner or Blisseng, or one of their brothers came out of nowhere and followed me into the corridor.It walked with its legs straight, sniffing my tracks along the way.I tried to befriend him, and his attitude reminded me of those mounted cops - that's how they react when you try to make a joke with them when they pull over.As I walked, I glanced at the other rooms in the corridor.It looks ordinary, nothing special. I went into the study, and "Africa" ​​was still facing me.I shut the door to keep the dog out, and wandered around the study, scanning the titles on the shelves as I went.

There are many history books here.In fact, history books seem to make up the vast majority of her collection.There are also many art books, all of which are large and expensive. I took out a few and flipped through them.Generally speaking, I can think about problems when I have something else to distract me. Flora was evidently rich, and it was not known where her fortune had come from.Since we're brother and sister, does that mean I might also have a fortune?I try to recall my financial and social status, my profession, my origins.I have the feeling that money has never bothered me much, that it has always been enough for me, or at least not hard to come by.I never felt short of money.Do I have such a big house too?I can't remember.

What about my profession? Sitting behind her desk, I searched carefully in my mind, hoping to find the secret room where memories are stored.It's really not easy to look at yourself like a stranger.Maybe that's why I can't remember anything.What's yours is yours, it's in you, it's an inseparable part of you.You won't notice it. maybe a doctor?Looking at some anatomical diagrams drawn by Leonardo da Vinci, I had this idea.Almost subconsciously, I began to mentally replay the steps of various surgical procedures.I have operated on other people in the past. But the answer is not this.While discovering my medical background, I realized it was just part of something else.Somehow, I just knew that I wasn't a surgeon by profession.what exactly is it?Are there any other factors?

Something caught my attention. Sitting behind the table, I could clearly see the opposite wall, which was hung with some ornaments, one of which was an ancient cavalry saber, which I hadn't noticed when I was walking around the room.I got up and walked over and took it off the nail. I secretly shook my head at the state of its conservation.I wish I had an oiled rag and a whetstone on hand to bring it back to life.I know ancient weapons, especially bladed ones. The saber is light and easy to handle, and I think I know how to handle it.I made an opening gesture, followed by a few dodge and attack moves.Yes, I do use a saber.

So, what kind of identity does this represent?I looked around for new clues. Finding nothing useful, I put the knife back where it was and went back to the table.After sitting down, I decided to search carefully. Starting with the middle drawer, I went through the top, bottom, left, and right drawers. Letter paper, envelopes, postage stamps, paper clips, pencil ends, erasers—these are common items. As I checked the drawers, I pulled them all out one by one and laid them on my lap.It wasn't a whim, but part of some kind of training I'd had in the past that told me to check the corners and bottoms of drawers carefully.

One detail I almost overlooked, but it caught my eye at the last second: something was wrong with the bottom drawer on the right hand side, the bezel behind it was not as high as the other drawers. There must be articles here.I knelt down and looked at the space left by the drawer, and there was something like a small box fixed inside. It was at the very back, a small drawer itself, and locked. It took me a minute or so to fiddle with paper clips, paper clips, etc., and I finally found a metal shoehorn in another drawer and fiddled with it. In the drawer was a deck of playing cards. The pattern on the card box made me freeze on the ground, sweat suddenly wet my forehead, and my breathing became short of breath.

A white unicorn stands on grass with its hind legs upright, its head turned to the right. I've seen this image but I can't think of a name for it, which makes me very sad. I opened the box and pulled out the cards.Much like a tarot card, with the scepter, pentagram, chalice and sword, but the main card is nothing like a normal tarot card. I put both drawers back in place, taking care not to lock the smaller drawer inside, and continued my study of the deck. The pictures are drawn vividly, and the smooth main card seems to have life.The cards felt cool to the touch, and playing with them gave me a unique pleasure.I suddenly realized that I used to have such a look.

I lay my cards out on the blotter in front of me. There was a picture of a sly-looking little man with a pointed nose, a smiling mouth, and a mop of straw-colored hair.He is dressed in orange, red, and brown in what appears to be a Renaissance style, including stockings and an embroidered doublet.I know him.His name is Langdon. Then came the deadpan Julian, with long dark hair and blue eyes without passion or pity.He was clad all over in white chain mail, not pure silver or metallic white, but glazed.But I do know that even though this thing looks like a holiday decoration, it's actually incredibly strong and impact-resistant.This is the guy who lost to me in his favorite game and then picked up a glass of wine and threw it at me.I know him and hate him.

Then there was Kane, who was swarthy and dark-eyed, dressed in black and green satin, and wore a three-cornered hat, slightly tilted for a playful look, with a green feather hanging from the back.The card showed his profile, with one hand on his waist, two boots raised high, and a dagger inlaid with emeralds hung on his belt.I have a love-hate relationship with him. And Eric.He was handsome by any standard.Very dark hair, almost bluish.There is always a smile on his mouth, and a ring of curly mustache around his lips.The clothes are very simple, a leather jacket, a pair of leggings, a plain cloak and a pair of black boots, and a long saber with a silver blade and a ruby ​​​​inlaid on a red sword belt. .The cloak had a high stand-up collar, bordered by a band of red that matched the trim on his cuffs.And his hands.In the card, his thumbs are clasped to his belt, and the strength of those hands is famous.A pair of black gloves hang from the belt, near the right hip.It was he, I'm sure it was he who tried to kill me the day I almost died.I looked at him carefully and found myself a little afraid.

Next came Benedict, tall, stern, and lean.Thin body, thin face, but has the broadest heart.He was dressed in oranges, yellows and browns and made me think of haystacks, pumpkins, scarecrows and cats.His jaw was long and determined; his eyes were hazel and his brown hair was never frizzy.He stood beside a horse leaning on a spear, and around that spear was wrapped a ribbon of braided flowers.He rarely smiles.I like him. The moment I turned over the next card, I was stunned, my heart jumped up and hit my chest, as if it was about to jump out. that's me. This is me in the mirror when I shave.Black hair, blue eyes, and yes—all black and silver.My cloak is rolled up slightly, as if the wind had blown it.I was wearing the same black leather boots as Eric, and I also had a sword on my waist, not as long as him, but heavier.I wear silver gloves with scaly spots on them.The silver clasp around the neck is cast in the shape of a rose. Me, Corwin. A tall, strong man looked at me from the next card.He looks like me, only with a thicker chin.I knew he was stronger than I was, in fact his immense strength was legendary, but I was faster in terms of speed.He was wearing a blue and gray dressing gown tied in the middle by a wide black belt, and he stood there laughing loudly.Around his neck hung a thick cord, from which hung a silver horn.He has a beard on his cheeks, a mustache on his lips, and holds a glass of wine in his right hand.I suddenly fell in love with this man.His name also came to my mind.He is Gerald. Then came a man with a beard like fire.With fiery red hair and wearing red and orange clothes, mostly silk, she looked radiant.He holds a sword in his right hand and a glass of wine in his left.His eyes were as blue as Flora's or Eric's, with a diabolical look in them.His jaw is not full, but it is well hidden by the beard.His sword is beautifully decorated in gold.There are two large rings on the right hand, and another on the left hand, with emeralds, rubies and sapphires respectively.I know, he's Blaise. The figure below is a cross between me and Blaise.Looks like me, but a size smaller, my eyes, Blaise's hair, only missing his beard.He is dressed in a green riding outfit, astride a white horse, with his face to the right of the card.In him there is a mixture of strength and weakness, pursuit and indulgence.For him, I both approve and dislike him, both like him and feel a little disgusted.I know, he's Brand.I knew it from the first time I saw him. In fact, I realized I knew all the people on the deck.I remember them, their strengths, their weaknesses, their successes and failures. Because they are all my brothers. I took a cigarette from the cigarette case on Flora's table, leaned back in the chair, and smoked while thinking about the things I just recalled. Those eight strangely dressed weirdos are all my brothers.And I knew that those clothes would be perfect for them, just like I should be in black and silver.Thinking of this, I couldn't help laughing, because I suddenly thought of my current clothes and the clothes I bought in the small shop in that town after I left the green forest. I was wearing black slacks, and the three shirts I bought were all that grayish silver.Also, my coat is also black. I went on to look at the cards.Flora was in a sea-green gown, just as I remembered it from last night; and a dark-haired girl with the same blue eyes, long hair draped over the shoulders, pure black, only the belt was silver .For some reason, tears filled my eyes.Her name is Deirdre.Then there's Fiona, with hair like Blaise and Brand, eyes like mine, and skin that glows with mother-of-pearl.The moment the cards were turned over, I knew I hated her.Next came Rivera, with emerald eyes and matching hair, in green and bright gray with a lavender sash.She looked very sad, and there seemed to be tears in her eyes.For some reason, I knew she was different from the rest of us.But she is also my sister. I have a terrible sense of distance and alienation from all of these people.Yet for some reason, they seemed to be very close again. The cards chilled my fingertips, and I put them down; but at the same time yearning for the touch, I hesitated when I let go. There is only so much left.All others are small cards.For some reason, I know -- well, another "somehow" -- and I know there are a few missing. But I tried my best and couldn't figure out what the missing main cards were. This makes me feel very sad.I picked up my cigarette and meditated. Why do memories flood in when I see this deck of cards?Too bad they don't come with context.Just talking about the name and face, I already remembered a lot, but the rest was still blank. I can't think of a reason why everyone should be drawn on the playing cards.But my desire to own such a deck was too strong to be contained.Of course I know I can't take Flora's pair, she'll soon find out, and then I'm in trouble.I put them back in the smaller drawer inside the larger drawer and locked the lock.Omg I'm literally racking my brains!The results were pitiful. Until I remembered that magic word. Amber. The word made me very uneasy the night before.I've avoided thinking about it ever since.Now, I look at the word and repeat it to see what associations it brings to me. It aroused my strong longing and deep nostalgia.It connotes solitary beauty, monumental achievement, and an astonishing, almost ultimate sense of power.This word belongs to me.It's a part of me and I'm a part of it.I can't tell why this is, but it is.All I know is that it's a place name, and I used to know that place well.I couldn't recall any images though, only emotions. How long have I been sitting like this?I have no idea.Time seems to slip away from me as I daydream. I was lost in my own thoughts when suddenly I heard a few soft knocks on the door.Then the doorknob turned slowly, and the maid named Camilla came in and asked me if I wanted to eat. It seemed like a good idea.I went back to the kitchen with her and got rid of half a chicken and a quart of milk. After lunch, I took a pot of coffee and went to the study, carefully avoiding the dogs along the way.During my second drink, the phone rang. I'd love to answer it, but I'm guessing there are extensions all over the house, and Carmela must be answering somewhere else. I'm wrong.It keeps ringing. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Hello," I said, "Voromer Hall." "May I ask if Madame Frommel is there?" It was a man's voice, speaking fast, a little nervous, and short of breath.His voice was surrounded by various noises, and it seemed to be a long-distance call. "I'm sorry," I told him, "she's not here at the moment. You can leave a message, or I'll ask her to call you when she comes back." "Who are you?" I hesitated, then told him, "Corwin." "My God!" he exclaimed, and there was a long silence. I thought he was about to hang up, so I said, "Hello?" Almost immediately, he started talking too. "Is she still alive?" he asked. "Of course she's alive. Who the hell are you?" "Don't you recognize my voice, Corwin? I'm Langdon. Look, I've got trouble in California. I called Flora to find shelter. Are you staying with her? ?” "For now." "Understood. Will you protect me, Corwin?" There was a brief pause. "Please?" "As far as I can, I will," I said, "but I can't make up Flora's mind until I ask her." "What if she troubles me? Will you still protect me?" "yes." "That's it, man. I'll try to get to New York right away. I'll have to weave around, so it's hard to say when I'll be there. We'll see each other if I don't walk into other shadows. Wish me luck." "Good luck," I said. After the "click", only the distant ringing and noise remained in the receiver. So self righteous little Langdon is in trouble!I don't think I'm particularly bothered by it.However, he may be a key to my past, and he may be equally important to my future.So I'll try to help him as much as I can until I get all I want from him.I know very well that there was never much brotherhood between me and him.On the one hand, he is shrewd, cunning, and resourceful, and is often moved by the most inexplicable things; He could sell a corpse to a medical school.Yes, I remember the little rascal, I had only a little affection for him, maybe we had some good times together.But trust him?no way.I decided not to tell Flora about his coming until the last moment.Maybe turn him into my secret weapon, a hidden ace, or at least a queen. So, I added some hot coffee to the cup and tasted it slowly. Who is he hiding from? Definitely not Eric, or he wouldn't be calling here.It seemed odd to me that, on hearing my name, he asked if Flora was dead.Is it because she is so involved with the brother I hate that everyone in the family thinks that I will kill her at the first chance?Strange, but he did ask that. Also, what brought them together?Why is everyone's relationship so tense and hostile?Why did Langdon flee? Amber. This is the answer. Amber.For some reason, I knew that Amber was the key to everything, that Amber was the secret behind this mess.Something happened there, and as far as I can tell, it happened very recently.I need to be more vigilant.My memory must never be noticed, and I can extract all the information from insiders bit by bit.I am confident that I can do this.Everyone mistrusts each other, everyone is cautious, and I will take advantage of that.I'll get what I need, take what I want, remember those who helped me, and put others down.Because I know that this is the law of our family, and I deserve to be my father's son... It was another sudden headache, and my skull was about to explode. I thought of my father just now, and I guessed something, felt something—that was the cause of the headache.But I don't know why and how. After a while, the pain subsided and I dozed off in the chair.After a long time, Flora opened the door and walked in. It was already night. She was wearing a green silk blouse and a long gray wool skirt, thick socks, and light shoes.Her hair was tied back, and her face was a little pale.The whistle still hangs around her neck. "Good evening." I said, getting up. She didn't answer, went to the bar across the room, poured herself a portion, and gulped it down like a man.Then she poured another portion, took the cup and sat down on the big chair. I lit a cigarette and handed it to her. She nodded. "The way to Amber—it's hard." "why?" She gave me a puzzled look. "When was the last time you went?" I shrugged. "Can not remember." "Call it what you want," she said, "I'm just wondering how much of it is your masterpiece." I didn't say anything because I didn't know what she was talking about.Then I remembered something, there is an easier way to get to that place called Amber than the "road".Obviously, she has no such method. "You are missing a few main cards." I spoke suddenly, with an almost calm voice. She jumped up, spilling half a glass of wine on the back of her hand. "Give it back!" she yelled, reaching for the whistle. I took a few steps forward and held her shoulders. "I didn't take it," I said, "I was just commenting on a fact." She relaxed a little, and then began to sob.I gently pushed her back into the chair. "I thought you meant that you took what I left behind," she said, "rather than commenting obnoxiously on an obvious fact." I didn't apologize.I feel it shouldn't be necessary. "You didn't make it. How much progress?" "No progress at all." She laughed, and something new suddenly appeared in her gaze. "I see your trick now, Corwin." I light a cigarette to avoid answering. "Part of this is your masterpiece, isn't it? You blocked my way to Amber before you came, didn't you? You knew I was going to find Eric. But now I can't get to him, so I have to wait He came to me. Smart. You want to bring him here, don't you? But he won't come by himself, he'll send someone else." She thought I was up to something to sabotage her plan, which was tantamount to admitting to her face that she had just tried to sell me out to my enemies, and that she would do it again, given the slightest chance.But when she spoke, there was a strange admiration in the woman's tone.How could she express her Machiavellianism so grandly in the presence of her victims?The answer came to me immediately: This is the way we are.There's no need to play those secret tricks between us.Still, I think she lacks the finesse of a true pro. "Do you think I'm an idiot, Flora?" I asked. "You think I'm here so you can hand me over to Eric? Whatever happens to you, you deserve it." "Well, I am indeed not on the same level as you! But you were also exiled? It means that you are not that smart!" For some reason, her words hurt me.And I know those words are not true. "I'm not fucking exiled!" She laughed again. "I knew it would work," she said. "Well, let's say you came into the shadows on purpose. You're crazy." I shrugged. She asked, "What do you want? Why on earth are you here?" "I'm curious to know what you're up to," I said. "It's as simple as that. If I want to go, you can't keep me. Not even Eric. Maybe I really just want to see You. Maybe I'm getting old and nostalgic. Anyway, I'll be here for a while and maybe never come back. If you're not so eager to know what Eric wants to do with me, the benefits you get may be Much more. You said last night that if something happens, please don't forget you..." I tried to put as many hints of ambiguity into the words as possible.It took several seconds for her to react slowly. She spoke: "You're going to do it yourself! You're really going to do it yourself!" "You're fucking right, that's what I thought." At this point, I realized I was going to do that thing, whatever it was, "If you wanted to, you could put that Tell Eric. But don't forget, maybe I can do it. Just remember that if I succeed, it's a good choice to be on my side." Wish I knew what the hell I was talking about.However, I have heard quite a few words, and I can already feel the importance of these words, so even if I don't know the meaning, I can use these words appropriately.I feel that these words are very appropriate, too appropriate... She suddenly kissed me. "I won't tell him. Really, I won't, Corwin! I'm sure you can make it. Blaise is hard to convince, but Gerald will probably help you, and Benedict. And Kay Well, when he sees the situation clearly, he will also stand by your side." "Planning and arranging this kind of thing, I can do it myself," I said. She backed away from me, poured two glasses of wine, and handed me one of them. "For the future," she said. "I'm always willing to drink to this." So we drank this glass of wine. She poured me another glass and studied me. "Eric, Blaise, you, must be one of you," she said, "Only you have the guts and brains. It's just that you've been away for so long, and I still think you're out." "The world is unpredictable, and no one can tell in advance." I took a sip of my drink, secretly wishing she would be quiet for a while.In my opinion, her means of pleasing all parties is a bit too obvious.There is one more thing that bothers me, and I wish I could think about it. how old am i I know that part of the reason why I have such a strong sense of distance and alienation from the people on the playing cards is because of this.I look much younger than my age.When I look in the mirror, I feel like I'm in my mid-thirties.But now I know it's because the shadow world will cover it up for me.I am more than thirty years old, far more than that.Also, it's been a long, long time since all the brothers and sisters wore the clothes on the playing cards and got together amicably, without friction or tension. The doorbell rang, and Camilla answered. "It should be our brother Langdon." I knew I was right. "He's under my protection at the moment." Her eyes widen, then she smiles, like I've played a trick and she appreciates it. Of course, I'm not really that good, but it's nice to make her think so. It makes me feel more secure.

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