The Road to Amber (35 page)

Read The Road to Amber Online

Authors: Roger Zelazny

Tags: #Collection, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

The dwarf shrugged. “I just wanted to make certain it wasn’t one of those
pro forma
things. I never know with humans. I remember when Stiller was teaching the dragon poker—”

“Ibble,” Stiller interrupted, “do you have a point?”

“Sure, Stiller,” Ibble said, “I was studying these crowns here and you know that dwarves are great craftsmen, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, I’d like a second opinion from Calla, but I’d say that these crowns have been enchanted to make them control devices. No points for guessing who would be doing the controlling.”

“Kalaran!” Prince Rango gasped. Calla Mallanik rose from his inspection of the crowns and nodded agreement.

“Yes, your Highness, I would guess that the Fallen Sunbird, being immortal, had designs on your kingdom far exceeding a human life span. Through these crowns he could control the new King, after your death.”

“And the Queen while she was yet alive!” Jancy said in horror. “Sif’s shining hair, that’s ugly!”

A faint cursing could be heard from the sash of her gown where she had stowed the figurine containing the imprisoned demigod.

“If these crowns are cursed,” Prince Rango said, “then let the coronation be continued but let us be coronated without crowns!”

“That’s fine with me,” Rissa said, with a faint shudder as she looked at the crown destined for her and contemplated what Kalaran might have intended, “I’ve never like crowns. They’re terribly uncomfortable.”

The coronation was concluded without further incident. As the congregation rose to cheer their new King and Queen the Cathedral of Dym shook and shimmered. The vision of each person within blurred and when it cleared, they found that they were standing within a rounded building as large as the vanished Cathedral but without a roof so that it was open to the sky.

Across that sky, three green comets looped in increasingly erratic patterns.

“What is this?” King Rango asked.

“An arena of sorts,” Stiller offered, “or a stadium.”

They looked about. The congregation was now seated in the round, those who had been on the ground floor in small, hard seats, those who had been in the balconies on wooden bleachers. The royal wedding party stood on a mound amid a broad, grassy field that had been marked into a diamond with solid lines of white paint. Small shelters stood where the sacristies had been.

“I think I know what has happened,” Jord Inder said. “Kalaran did not lie when he said that the presence of so many magical artifacts could cause a rift between time and space. The strange phenomena faded somewhat after we left on our quests, but Caltus remained fraught with them. Now we have gathered again several magical artifacts of great power in one place.”

“The scroll!” Domino said, picking it up from the grass.

“The crowns!” Ibble added, looking down at them.

“The Demon of Darkness,” Jancy said, pulling it from her girdle, “or the Imprisoned Fallen Sun bird, if you’d prefer.”

“The weakened fabric of reality cannot tolerate their presence,” Calla Mallanik agreed, “and I really dread telling you what the solution is.”

“A quest!” groaned Stiller, the blotches rising on his face.

“Three quests,” Calla corrected.

“I guess we could take the scroll back to the Lakes,” Domino said. “For real this time. It shouldn’t be that bad. There aren’t many bandits left.”

“If the crowns are not as powerful as the other artifacts, I could lose them in a game of poker,” Stiller said. “I promised Schmirnov I’d come back after the wedding.”

“The Demon of Darkness is a harder call,” Queen Rissa said. “Jancy?”

“I’d love to get rid of the old bastard,” Jancy replied, “and I didn’t much fancy going along on your honeymoon. Calla, are you with me?”

“As long as I don’t have to enlist,” the elf promised. “The kingdom rewards its heroes a lot better than it pays their soldiers.”

“Let me join you,” Ibble said, “I’d feel much safer if we encase that damn thing in some of my magic dwarven rock when we ditch it. A figurine could be tempting, but who’d want a chunk of ugly rock?”

“Then it is agreed,” King Rango declaimed, “but reality will have to bear the strain long enough for you all to attend the wedding reception. Look, the stewards are bringing in the refreshments, even now.”

Dressed in white trousers and shirts, with trays slung suspended from their necks, stewards were moving through the seats and the stands handing paper cups of drink and bags of peanuts and popcorn to the gathered guests.

Daisy led a few stewards over to the royal party.

“The weather’s so lovely that I’ve ordered tables be set for you here on the lawn,” she said. “But I fear I must report that the wine has spoiled—all we have is that sweet, frothy brown drink and plenty of ice.”

The wedding party groaned, but the new King took a tentative sip from his cup.

“Sweet,” he said, “but I rather like it.”

Rissa laughed and held him close. “I guess that Kalaran got that awful habit from you. I should have known!”

Minstrels struck up drums and flutes in light dance tunes and the military band spelled them with merry marches. Occasional riffs of the amplified strings and bass were heard from the unseen world beyond. The new King and Queen held out their hands to their comrades.

“Come,” Queen Rissa said, “join us in a circle dance to celebrate new beginnings.”

As they spun on the flat, grassy lawn, overhead the three comets finished their twisting course and exploded into each other, sprinkling the heavens with a dusting of stars, bright against even the daytime sky. Not even the giant lizard that snapped at the trailing sparks could dim their brilliance.

Notes

Many fantasies involve a quest to retrieve powerful talismans that reside in half-forgotten, difficult to reach places. At the quest’s conclusion, after Good has triumphed, what then? What to do with the mighty talismans now gathered in one place? What does “Happily Ever After”
really
mean? Zelazny outlined a humorous novel. Four magical items that have served their purpose must be returned and hidden away to save the world from their combined power: an amulet (Anachron), ring (Sombrosio), sword (Mothganger), and scroll (Gwykander). He invited four authors to write these reverse-quests, and he wrote a five-part frame to connect them. Zelazny completed
Forever After
, and it appeared posthumously with an afterword by David Drake. Assembled here are Zelazny’s four Preludes and the Postlude and a short summary of each intervening tale.

Flensed
means that the skin and fat have been stripped from the carcass.
Pro forma
means done by rote or observing only the forms.
Declassé
is low-class.

Ikhnaton’s Hymn to the Sun
Flare
, by Roger Zelazny and Thomas T. Thomas, Baen 1992 (extracts).
Fully:
Hymn to the Sun: An Imitation
, DNA Publications 1996.

The day comes lovely to the sky’s edge,
living Aton, opener oflife’s gate.
Rising at the eastern rim of the world,
you fill the lands with your glory.

Great, glowing, high above the Earth,
you send rays to brighten the land,
filling with light all that you have made.
You are Re, making all things captive,
binding them with your love.
Distant, you shed your light upon us.
Striding on high, your footprints are the day.

Setting at the world’s edge, the west,
the Earth beneath you comes into the darkness of the dead,
who sleep in their chambers, heads wrapped,
unbreathing, unable to look upon each other;
their possessions are stolen from beneath their heads
and they know it not.
The lion comes forth from his den,
the serpent stings, the world is silence.
He that made all things goes to rest
beyond his horizon. He restores himself

Bright is the Earth when you rise.
When you shine as Aton by day
you drive away the darkness.
You light the Two Lands into daily festivity,
awakening them, raising them up.
The people bathe and dress themselves,
raise up their arms in thanks to the dawn
for a new day in which to do their work.

The cattle stir in their pastures,
trees put forth leaves,
birds call through the marshes, fluttering,
wings raised in praise of your day.
Sheep dance in their fields
and all winged things fly,
living in your light.

Ships sail up and down the rivers.
Travelers pass on the highways with dawn.
Fish leap from the streams.
Your rays shine amid ocean’s great green.

Creator of seed in man and egg in woman,
giver of life to the son within his mother,
you soothe him in life that he may not weep,
provide for him in the womb,
and give him breath when he comes forth
on the day of his birth.
You open his mouth to speech and nourishment.

When the fledgling opens the egg
you give to him the breath of life.
When you have brought him together
to the breaking of the egg
he comes forth singing with all of his heart,
he goes about on two feet, rejoicing that he lives.

How great are your works!
Hidden are your ways from our regard,
only god, of powers no other possesses.
You created the Earth, of light and your love,
while you were alone:
humanity, and creatures of all sizes,
to go forth upon it;
and all that are on high,
soaring on outspread wings;
and the foreign countries, Syria and Kush;
Egypt, where you set everyone in his place,
provide for his needs…

You bring forth the waters of the Nile
to preserve the people.
How perfect are your designs,
Lord of eternity!
There is a Nile in the sky
for the strangers, for the cattle of every land …

Your rays feed every garden.
The plants grow by your light.
You make the seasons to fulfill your work:
Winter for coolness;
heat, that they may taste of your essence.
You made the sky within which you rise
to regard the work you have done.

Dawning, shining, passing and returning,
you have made all things of yourself, by yourself:
cities and tribes, roads and rivers.
All eyes see you daily,
Aton over the Earth.

You shine into my heart,
your son, Ikhnaton,
bringing this wisdom.
You have shown me your designs,
how you hold the world in your hand,
how your comings and goings bring life and death,
how we live through you,
our eyes upon your glory,
until you set, and all labor is put away.

You did construct the Earth,
raise up my race, oh Sun,
and I, Ikhnaton, whose life has been long,
and my beloved wife, Mistress of the Two Lands,
Nefer-nefru-aton, Nofretete,
thank you,
living and flourishing down the ages.

A Word from Zelazny

Excerpts from this poem served as section breaks for the collaborative novel
Flare
. “It’s ‘Ikhnaton’s Hymn to the Sun,’ the heretical Egyptian Pharaoh. I used [Robert] Lowell’s concept of ‘imitations,’ where you read translations till the meaning is clear to you, then recast the meaning into an English version to your own taste. The most recent translation of the original ‘Hymn’ was 1898, very Victorian, so I recast the entire thing, say five or six pages double-spaced, in free verse, my interpretation. Then sections appropriate to the narrative of the novel were taken out and used.”
[1]

“‘The Hymn to the Sun,’ which is seventh century Egyptian, was actually ripped off by the psalmist and became the basis for the 104
th
Psalm. So what I did was put together a manuscript with an introduction, explaining Robert Lowell’s theory of imitation, and then talking about my piece. Then I have the complete version of ‘Hymn to the Sun,’ and then an appendix containing the 104
th
Psalm [Appendix A in the chapbook], to show the similarities.”
[2]

Notes

Ikhnaton
was an ancient Egyptian king who changed his name from Amenhotep IV to honor the god
Aton
(Ikhnaton means “Aton is satisfied”). He embraced monotheism, declaring that Aton, the sun, was the only god, and he was Aton’s son. He allowed no exceptions, and he defaced the names of other gods on the temples. When he died, the cult of Aton died with him. His mummy was destroyed, and most traces of his name were obliterated. His wife was Queen
Nefertiti
, Tutankhamen’s aunt.
Re
was the Egyptian sun god’s name before Ikhnaton elevated his stature and renamed him.
Two Lands
is the ancient Egyptian name for Egypt.
Kush
was a region in northeast Africa, home to the biblical people of Cush; it corresponds to Ethiopia.
Nefer-nefru-aton
and
Nofretete
are alternate spellings of Nefertiti.

  1. Critical Wave #33
    , November 1993.
  2. Absolute Magnitude
    Fall/Winter 1994.

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