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“Jurt,” he said, “met the changing times with a mixture of delight and fear.   He was constantly talking of the latest deaths and of the elegance and apparent ease with which some of them were accomplished.   Hushed tones interspersed with a few giggles.   His fear and his desire to increase his own capacity for mischief finally reached a point where they became greater than his other fear-“
    “The Logrus...”
    “Yes.   He finally tried the Logrus, and he made it through.”
    “He should be feeling very good about that.   Proud.   It was something he’d wanted for years.”
    “Oh, yes,” Mandor answered.   “And I’m sure he felt a great number of other things as well.”
    “Freedom,” I suggested.   “Power,” and as I studied his half amused expression, I was forced to add, “and the ability to play the game himself.”
    “There may be hope for you,” he said.   “Now, would you care to carry that through to its logical conclusion?”
    “Okay,” I responded, thinking of Jurt’s left ear as I floated away following my cut, a swarm of blood-bead: spreading about it.   “You think Jurt sent the Fire Angel.”
    “Most likely,” he replied.   “But would you care to pursue that a little further?”
    I thought of the broken branch piercing Jurt’s eyeball as we wrestled in the glade...
    “All right,” I said.   “He’s after me.   It could be a part of the succession game, because I’m slightly ahead of him; on that front, or just plain dislike and revenge-or both.”
    “It doesn’t really matter which,” Mandor said, “in terms of results.   But I was thinking of that crop-eared wolf that attacked you.   Only had one eye, too, it seemed...”
    “Yes,” I said.   “What does Jurt look like these days?”
    “Oh, he’s grown about half the ear back.   It’s pretty ragged and ugly-looking.   Generally, his hair covers it.   The eyeball is regenerated, but he can’t see out of it yet.   He usually wears a patch.”
    “That might explain recent developments,” I said.   “Hell of a time for it, though, with everything else that’s been going on.   Muddies the waters considerably.”
    “It’s one of the reasons I suggest you simply drop out; and let everything cool down.   Too busy.   With as many arrows as there seem to be in the air, one may well find your heart.”
    “I can take care of myself, Mandor.”
    “You could have fooled me.”
    I shrugged, got up, walked over to the rail, and looked down at the stars.
    After a long while he called out to me, “Have you got any better ideas?” but I didn’t answer him because I was thinking about that very matter.   I was considering what Mandor had said about my tunnel vision and lack of preparedness and had just about concluded that he was right, that in nearly everything that had happened to me: up to this point-with the exception of my going after Jasra-I had mainly been responding to circumstance.   I had been far more acted upon than acting.   Admittedly, it had all happened very quickly.   But still, I had not formed any real plans for covering myself, learning about my enemies or striking back.   It seemed that there were some things I might be doing...
    “If there is that much to worry about,” he said, “you are probably better off playing it safe.”
    He was probably right, from the standpoints of reason, safety, caution.   But he was strictly of the Courts, while I possessed an additional set of loyalties in which he did not participate.   It was possible-if only through my connection with Luke-that I might be able to come up with some personal course of action that would further the security of Amber.   So long as such a chance existed, I felt obliged to pursue matters.   And beyond this, from a purely personal standpoint, my curiosity was too strong to permit me to walk away from the unanswered questions which abounded when I could be actively seeking some answers.
    As I was