The Bayle family is notable by their absence. Rumour is swirling around the reasons, but no one's settled on a primary cause yet. There are other nobles making their appearances, the Corrino family from the West of Amber, and the Tallsin clan from the mountains North and West of Arden being most notable in the hall.

Of the family, Florimel sits at a desk near the dais, her dress and hair immaculate and flawlessly arranged to make her seem part of the torchlight, but inevitably separate from and brighter than all of it.

Not terribly far away, tiny Fiona stands chatting with Gerard, managing somehow to make it look perfectly natural, despite the vast difference in their heights.

Benedict is nowhere to be seen, but experience says he's likely in Shadow, honing his skills.

Llewella returned recently to Rebma, where she spends much of her time.

Bleys and Corwin seem, of late, to be possessed of wanderlust, as neither stays in Amber for more than a few nights before leaving again.

Julian spends most of his time in Arden, but surprisingly, he stands in the Hall today, his armour gleaming, white even in the torchlight.

Random sits with Vialle on the dais, currently listening to some request from yet another part of Amber's domain.

Kashfa and Begma have their diplomats out and about, though there is only a slight, understated, tension of late.

Cutting a fine figure in her black Ranger dress uniform, Skye stands beside her commanding officer in a casual parade rest. Her twin long knives are peace tied in a specially made scabbard at her hip instead of strapped to her back as they normally are. It is a rare appearance for her. Since her enlistment one can count her appearances in Court on one hand with fingers left over. She has no idea why she's here beyond Julian asking her to come. Since she was on duty at the time, the request was seen as an order, and so here she is. Skye hadn't missed Random's observation of hers and Julian's entrance, or the times she has seen him watching.

She still hates Court, but she is endeavoring to keep the complete boredom off her face. Her father's Courts had seemed exciting, but now in the present, she can't recall if that was just because they were her father's Courts or if they really had been interesting. There had certainly been a grim excitement anytime he had Corwin dragged in.

She shifts her stance, and casts a quick glance from the periphery at the Warder before letting her eyes travel the hall again, trying to take her mind off the fact that she doesn't wear these dress boots nearly often enough for them to be really broken in properly. When Gerard looks in their direction, she flashes him a quick smile that lights up her face, but is gone as soon as eye contact is broken, and Skye is once again quietly observing.

Saffron enters quietly and pauses just inside the doors to curtsy properly to the throne; she's resplendent in a red and gold dress that is thoroughly flattering without being at all immodest. She has a notebook in one arm; one of her classes had assigned the task of observing a government procedure and writing a report on it, and Court, she has decided, is good enough. She scans the room briefly and then, with a brilliant smile, starts working her way around the room to Skye.

Skye perks up when she sees Saffron approaching. In a generation teeming with testosterone, the girls have to stick together for self-preservation. She glances at Julian; she hasn't been told to stay put - obliquely or otherwise. With a murmured, "Excuse me, sir," the young Ranger steps away from her Commander and moves to intercept the raven haired sorceress.

Saffron's smile gets bigger when she sees Skye heading her way, and she hurries a little to meet the other woman. "I didn't expect to see you here," she says warmly as they meet.

"Neither did I," Skye shrugs. She leans over and gives Saffron a friendly kiss on the cheek in greeting. "But Himself called me in and said 'You have an hour if you want to go to Court with me.' I saw it less as a request and more as an order." The young Ranger takes a step back to eye the dress Saffron is wearing. "You look amazing," she smiles. "Other then dazzling the locals, what are you doing here? You come to Court about as often as I do."

A few of the nobles make disparaging faces when Skye and Saffron come together - rumour will have its day - but the fact that the rest of the family pays it no mind soon closes those faces once more.

Saffron returns the kiss on the cheek. "You look great, too; I still say that uniform suits you, even if it is all black." She offers up a small grin, tipping her head slightly. "Is this not a clue why I'm here, though?" she adds, tapping the notebook. "Classwork." She sighs. "I hate this government class; did I mention that last time you were over? It's dull."

The Ranger looks past Saffron a moment and catches a disapproving look from the Offenderati. Skye smiles broadly and blows the man a kiss then forgets about him and the rest as she gives Deirdre's daughter her attention again. "Of course it's dull," she says cheerfully. "It's the one that makes the rest of your classes fascinating instead of just interesting."

In one corner, two lesser nobles - some thinking retrieves the names Sir Astren and Lord Harkaan from memory - are apparently in deep and passionate discussion about something. Both are from Shadow - brought by Bleys and Eric at different times - and both have done fairly well in trade. Gwyll is close enough that he can hear the occasional word, though what he hears makes little sense without the context.

The court bard - surprisingly not Lord Rein who is in favor again and in attendance - sits near the back, lightly strumming a gittern and chatting with the ladies who have surrounded him.

Making his way back across the room towards Julian, Gabriel passes very near to Skye and Saffron. "Maybe you should sell tickets." He says innocently as he walks by the pair.

"Ooooh.. there's one we haven't heard before," Skye rejoins with a grin. There isn't a bit of rancor in it; she likes Gideon.

Saffron smiles at that. "Tickets," she laughs softly before picking up the conversation again. "The problem is, it doesn't make the other classes more interesting. The other classes make this one more dull. But enough, or I'll start whining." She smiles brightly. "How is Arden this week?"

Clasping her hands behind her back, Skye looks from left to right slyly as if checking for eavesdroppers; an action sure to get the attention of any trying to listen in. Then she leans forward closer in to Saffron. "Arden," she whispers, "is very ... green." She winks, straightens and adds in a normal tone. "Imagine."

"Imp," Saffron laughs. "You know what I'm asking."

Skye just grins and holds her arms out to her sides. "As you can see, I am in one piece, and not looking for some place to steal a nap. In fact, it's rather dull at the moment. Nothing but peaceful green as far as the eye can see. I have taken to learning to speak squirrel again."

"I suppose I will have to take up prayer again, then," Saffron replies, straight-faced - though the laughter in her eyes gives her away. "So that when you finally offend them, they will only throw nuts at you - and that it will happen somewhere other than my garden."

Skye sniffs disdainfully and crosses her arms over her chest. "Wench. No one understands me like my little fuzzy friends. Alas."

Her eyes flick over Saffron's shoulder again, this time towards the Throne and then quickly away. She lowers her voice, murmuring; "Random seems pretty intent on watching everyone today. Very obviously, I might add."

"I noticed," Saffron answers, lowering her voice as well. "Which do you think it is today - boredom or waiting for something to explode?" She smiles a little as she says it.

Skye gives her a lopsided smile. "Perhaps he's just feeling antsy because there's been no explosions for awhile." She gives a speculative look at the crowd. "Perhaps I can challenge someone to a duel. Give him some excitement."

In future, when spoken of, the speakers will often say 'everything was happening at once', knowing it to be exaggeration, but for the sake of the story, and not much at that.

Random's eyes snap up to gaze intently at the door to the Hall even as everyone else begins to hear a commotion outside.

Gerard and Julian move, placing themselves in front of Random without interfering with his vision.

Florimel opens a drawer on her desk, her face white.

Fiona, contrary to the rest, seems almost calm, though her green eyes are so sharp upon the door that one expects it to burst into fire.

A bone-chilling howl sounds on the other side of the door - sounding nearly, possibly, somewhat human, but with too much beast for it to be anything that belongs in Amber. This is followed by a sickening thud, and the blow of a heavy body against the doors, held shut at present only by their latch.

Skye starts to respond, but then the commotion grabs their attention and she steps between Saffron and the door (and Saff is between the Throne and Skye). A flick of her fingers releases the peace cord and her hands rest on the hilt of her daggers. Saffron pivots on her heel to look, but she doesn't try to move around the other woman.

Gideon's head turns and snaps toward the door, his expression changed to a frown of concern. He changes his hold on his staff, pulling it up to a more martial position. He sees Morgan run for the door. "Don't be too hasty Morgan." Gideon says warily as his enthusiastic cousin rushes to block the door.

Gwyll turns to the door, his hands trying to grasp the hilt of the sword he has not taken with him.

As the door sounds, Lucas's sword is out in a flash. His face completely loses expression as he advances towards the door, preparing to slay anything unfriendly that enters. Seeing Morgan also move towards the door, he speaks, his voice oddly toneless "Morgan, catch. But try not to do anything rash, hmm?" and tosses him a dagger from his belt. He turns back momentarily to Gwyll "And the same to you." and tosses him the other. Then faces the door, sword in a two handed-grip, the odd runes along the blade glittering in the light.

"Thank you, Lucas.", Morgan calls out as he catches the tossed dagger from Lucas — even as he continues to run for the door. Gwyll also takes the dagger and nods to Lucas.

Lucas' speed is such that only Skye actually sees him move. The daggers are already in the air by the time Gwyll and Morgan get their warning - though said warning is more than sufficient, and both catch the well thrown and timed blades - and Lucas is already in line with Morgan.

The elders - with the sole exceptions of Florimel and Fiona - are even faster, weapons out before any save Lucas and Skye can even see. Gerard's great sword, Julian's sabre, and even Random is standing before the throne, a straight short blade in his hand.

Florimel's hand comes from below her desk with a crossbow which she quickly and professionally loads.

Then, as the door continues to buckle, Fiona's voice rises to pierce the din. "Hold! There is danger here, but I ken an ally, not an enemy."

Gwyll, even as she speaks, realizes that he gets the same impression - that the force beyond the doors, as mad as it seems, is not striving to reach the hall for ill-intent, though there is too much pain and fear for him to get further information.

Random begins to speak, "Hold and-"

Then the door crashes in. Standing, half-crouched, is a melted, twisted wreckage of a man. His face seems unable to settle - whether to show him as a handsome, dark-haired young man, a wolf, or a demon. All three faces miss an ear, though.

Half his body sloughs off charred flesh that seems to char again as quickly as it heals, the other half twists and bends between human, animal and demon - and sometimes mixtures of all three. He attempts to speak, but a shift turns his words into a howl of frustration and agony.

Entering behind - backing in, rather - are the guards of the Hall. Their swords are blooded, but they hold themselves more as they are watching for pursuit than expecting it.

Finally, the creature is able to speak. In a voice which holds power and presence - one that tickles the ears of the listeners with the barest hint of familiarity - he gasps out his say. "Random King, The Fount of Power grows wild, ravening. This growth is guarded - protected. But it is no friend to either Chaos or Amber, this I know."

Then, as if he was holding himself for only those words, he collapses, still shifting, still burning, but still, somehow, alive.

Lucas shifts effortlessly from his fighting stance to one more relaxed, and speaks calmly, though without the utter lack of expression exhibited earlier "Well, if this is an ally, shouldn't someone come render medical assistance of some sort? I'm afraid I'm not really qualified to do so considering the mystical nature of the flame." He does not put away his sword, though it is now simply held at his side, and that as he speaks his eyes are focused beyond the guards, at the corridor outside.

Skye frowns and sheaths the blades, though remaining wary. Tempted though she is to get a closer look, she stays put. There are others more suited to the arcane this is clearly touched by then she is. Including the woman behind her. Skye steps aside to allow Saffron to see better the flaming — person. She glances over at Lucas when he speaks.

With a sad frown Gideon moves closer to the pitiable figure writhing on the polished marble. He watches the visitor for just a moment before giving an command to the closest guard. "You! Fetch a stretcher and several woolen blankets. Bring a bucket of clean water as well. Do it NOW."

Gideon kneels down next to the man and takes off his belt sash. He gingerly attempts to put out an isolated spot of fire, ready to discard the sash if it catches fire as well.

Morgan dashes over to one of the various courtiers who has a cloak, and says with just enough of a command to his voice to indicate that saying no would be bad,"Your cloak!" The courtier blinks and speechlessly then handed Morgan his cloak.

With the cloak in hand Morgan runs back over to where Gideon was kneeling. As he attempted to put the flames out, he said to Gideon, "I have some healing magics but never seen anything like this before. Is he a Chaosite?"

"That's probably a good guess." Gideon answers, allowing Morgan to replace his efforts with the larger cloak. "He knew Random though, perhaps he's not an unknown to our esteemed elders."

Lucas speaks, eyes still on the hall beyond the door "I've never run into to anything from Chaos personally, but the shifting form would certainly seem to indicate something of the sort. Perhaps Gwyll should take a look at him."

Gwyll's eyes examine the stranger with curiosity. "I'm afraid that my knowledge of Chaos and the shape shifters is purely theoretical and incomplete at best. But it seems strange that someone from the Courts of Chaos would come here to warn King Random of something going wrong with the Fount of Power. It should be expected he would have gone to inform the Chaos Lords and Merlin. We should take him to a room to take care of whatever is affecting him."

Saffron pads towards the knot of men, absently holding out her notebook to Skye as she passes the other woman. They seem to have the process of putting out the fire under control; she's instead looking to see if she can determine what caused it in the first place.

Skye accepts Saffron's notebook wordlessly and tucks it into the belt of her jacket. She stays only a few steps from the sorceress. Just in case.

As they are closer, the younger family members reach the man first, with Gideon and Morgan trying in vain to stop the flames - they burn on, fighting the efforts, though both manage to diminish them.

Saffron reaches their side at the same time as Fiona, who nods to her. "This is well within your abilities, dear. I will support you if needed."

With that encouragement, her senses reach out towards the flames. As her mind approaches, she gets a sense of something from the flames and stops. An unspoken word between them, and Fiona steps forward. Those watching see something very like the Pattern appear, almost as if wrapping around the fire. The fire dies, but grudgingly, fighting every step of the way. By the time it's finally gone, Fiona's face is white with concentration and dripping with sweat.

She stands, a little unsteadily, shakes her head to clear it, and sighs. "Yes, children, he is Chaosian. Until such time as the current king acquires an heir, he is Heir Apparent, though he and his brother don't seem to get along well."

She looks to Random, who continues. "He lives for the most part, in Chaos. But he occasionally has business on our end of things. This is ill news. Sister Fiona, you seem troubled."

Fiona nods gravely. "Mostly tired. Holding Pattern to mind is very draining. Still, it was needed - that fire would not have ended by itself, it was a thing of sorcery." The way she says the word makes it plain that she's not talking ordinary magick here.

Random nods, then gestures. Within moments, the Hall is clear of all save family. Gerard comes down to pick up the Chaosian and carry him closer. Once everyone is within a few feet of Random, he touches Vialle's hand, and she speaks.

"We learned of the 'Fount of Power' when Merlin was making so much noise a few years back. It seems to be how Brand got his power - and possibly his madness."

Random grimaces. "I'll have to send someone to investigate. In the meantime, everyone be careful. I misdoubt that he was coming to Amber solely for the company. I wouldn't worry about his wounds. As long as he's not dead, the removal of the flames will finally let him heal. He should recover soon enough."

Gerard picks him up and starts to carry him away. Random nods a dismissal to the rest of you, and leans back in his throne, his face, already weary, wearing down further.

Julian immediately heads out, obviously to Arden. As he passes Skye, he shakes his head. "No. You may be needed."

Skye isn't sure how she feels about that, though only Saffron and Julian would know her well enough to tell. She nods stiffly instead of voicing a protest. "Yes, sir."

Saffron, who has stayed near Fiona, looks to the redhead with a quiet, "Aunt? What was that?" 'That' being the something she'd sensed. "And is there anything I can do for you?"

Fiona looks up at Saffron with a measuring glance, those eyes missing nothing at all, and letting nothing escape for Saffron to know what she thinks.

Only Skye can see it, but there's a momentary flicker of Julian's eyes towards Saffron as he says it, and the hint of a smile about his lips.

Her right eyebrow twitches in surprise. Skye is slightly horrified that he knows. While they have made no secret that she spends her off time at Saffron's, they hadn't advertised their relationship either for a variety of reasons - it isn't like they walk around Amber holding hands or making out in the park. For some reason, it bothers her more that Julian knows then it would if Random had said something. But even though she is sure no one was paying them any mind at the moment, Skye merely gives the vaguest of nods to her favorite relative that she isn't sleeping with.

"I will be in my quarters if anyone needs me." Gideon announces to no one in particular. He bows respectfully to Random then walks out of the grand hall.

Gwyll stands calmly, lost in his own thoughts. When the moment of doubt has passed, he turns to Random "I'm willing to investigate this strange incident, if you want Random. I can depart as soon as you want." Gwyll bows and walks towards the door "I'll be in my rooms if you need me."

Lucas sheathes his sword, as the danger seems past, and accepts the return of his daggers from Gwyll and Morgan. At Gwyll's words, his face grows serious and he speaks up slightly "If you choose to send him, Your Majesty, I'd be happy to accompany the expedition. Just in case he runs into any trouble." He turns away, then, and walks over to Skye, speaking cautiously, and almost nervously "Excuse me, cousin, particularly if this is a bad time, but I've actually been meaning to ask you this for some little while: Would you mind sparring with me while you're in town? It's terribly difficult to find anyone who's my match in battle. And while being beaten like a drum by my father has it's own charm, a more equal contest would be quite nice for a change."

Having been watching Julian leave with an enigmatic expression on her face, Skye turns slowly to face Lucas when he begins speaking. Her head cants slightly to the side in a act of curiosity and one dark eyebrow curls upward. It's actually a quite fetching look on her, especially when one corner of her mouth turns up in a crooked smile. "That can probably be arranged. Though I am curious as to what has convinced you I am that good."

Lucas smiles back, clearly pleased, but speaks quite seriously "Thank you very much. And I'm certainly a bit better in terms of raw skill, but I'm fairly certain you can run me into the ground, and that matters quite a bit in a real fight. Or in any sparring that approximates such. It should be... interesting."

While the two are talking, Morgan, Gideon and Gwyll leave the Hall. Fiona takes Saffron to a corner. With Julian and Gerard gone, the hall suddenly seems somewhat larger than it did before. Random, Vialle and their guards head up to their quarters, and Florimel sweeps out of the Hall, leaving Skye, Gideon, Fiona and Saffron, and the regular guards for the Hall.

Finally, she nods, takes Saffron's arm, and leads her to a corner well away from the rest. "Of all the children I've met, you and Gwyll are the ones most in tune, and you seem more inclined to be subtle. What you sensed, and why I stopped you, was another Power. And not one I've touched, ever. I will, of course, be telling Random this, but I didn't want to get anyone else speculating, not yet. I don't know, yet, if the flames were a manifestation of that power, or just aided and strengthened by it. That's something we need to discover."

"I know this much, dear. That which we touched is not of Amber, and it is not of Chaos. Moreover, I've been to this 'Fount of Power', and it had little in common with that, save for the flames. I will go there to investigate."

She reaches into her sleeve and pulls out a Trump. "Trump me every day. Vary the time. When I'm where I need to be, we'll keep the connection open, just in case."

"Of course, Aunt," Saffron answers. "Every day, at a different time each time." She smiles slightly and adds, "I know you will, but... please, be careful."

Fiona smiles and shakes her head. "Child, you learn nothing by being careful. The trick is to be prepared for the consequences of taking a risk. There, you can be sure, I am one of this family's top practicioners."

She pats Saffron's cheek, then turns and heads out of the Hall.

"That is being careful," Saffron mutters as she gives her aunt's retreating back a slightly exasperated look. She turns after a moment to see who's left in the room - and not coincidentally, to see where Skye is now.

As Fiona leaves, Saffron turns to see that Skye is discussing something with Lucas. Judging by the hand Lucas has resting lightly on his sword, it's likely something to do with fighting.

Saffron smiles slightly; Skye and the subject fighting isn't a surprising combination to her. She heads that direction to reclaim her notebook. So much for using Court today for her report...

Without even turning her head, Skye pulls Saffron's notebook from her belt while giving Lucas a smile that is perhaps a touch mischievous. "Do you mind an audience? Assuming Saffron wants to watch."

Lucas smiles back and nods to Saffron "Not at all. Spectators are quite welcome."

"Excellent," Skye nods agreeably. "I'll just go slip into something more comfortable for fighting. These boots are killing me." She looks down at her Ranger issued watch. "Meet in the West practice yard in twenty minutes?"

Lucas refocuses on Skye and nods once more "Certainly. See you there."

Skye nods once more and turns to Saffron. "Coming?"

"Of course," Saffron answers as she tucks her notebook under her arm.

Clasping her hands behind her back, Skye falls in beside Saffron as the two make their way out of the hall and up to the rooms formerly inhabited by her father. She waits until they are away from people before she says anything. "It was very odd to have a burning man in the room that you had not set afire," she remarks mildly. "What did the lovely Aunt Fi have to say on the matter?"

"The last one wasn't entirely my fault," Saffron objects with a soft laugh. "But yes, it was quite odd, wasn't it?" She lets a few more steps pass before she continues, "Aunt Fiona was not reassuring. I'm to call her every day, at different times, while she's off exploring just what the power was that we encountered." She frowns. "It wasn't Amber and it wasn't Chaos - and Aunt Fi says it wasn't this 'Font of Power' either."

"Hmmm," is Skye's considered response as they head up the stairs. "Well, I of course blame Corwin. Why does Fiona want you calling at random times? To make certain she hasn't fallen in a hole?"

"Of course," Saffron agrees. "He's a good one to throw baseless accusations at. He makes himself such a good target, after all." And then she shrugs. "I assume it's to be sure she hasn't fallen in a hole, been captured by something, or been eaten." There's a pause as she frowns slightly. "I hope it's just paranoia, though. I don't want to meet anything that can capture or eat her."

"Agreed," her companion noted. She pauses at the top of the stairs and glances casually around the family wing. Then she tilts her head just slightly to see Saffron as they continue down the hall.

"Julian's on to us," she says quietly. "He didn't say anything, but when he told me to stay, he looked in your direction and did that little secret smile of his."

Saffron considers that gravely. "Well," she begins, thoughtfully, "I suppose it was bound to happen eventually. At least he smiled; that means he doesn't hate it, right?" She eyed Skye slyly. "So does this mean I can yell at him, too, the next time you come home exhausted from maneuvers?"

The Scythian snorts. "Only if you promise to wait until I can stay awake long enough to watch." She blinks. "No, wait. I'm not sure I want to even know if you do. I don't need to get spanked by Julian because my girlfriend chewed him out." She suddenly gave Saffron a bright smile. "Then again..."

"Well, he can still spank you even if you sleep through it," Saffron offers, returning the smile with a bright one of her own. "So I suppose I'd just have to wait for you to wake up so that I get to watch." And then, innocently, "Ten minutes, did you say?"

"Tart," Skye grins. They stop at the door and she unlocks it and pushes the door open. The Ranger steps in first and sweeps her eyes around to look for anything out of place before stepping back to let Saffron in.

Her boot kicks the door closed as she pulls the raven haired woman against her. "You want to wait until after the sparring," she growls lowly. "As I recall."

"Mm-hmm," Saffron agrees, wrapping her arms around the Ranger. "But I have to make sure you get a kiss for luck beforehand, and I know how you are." She grins.

"There is too much talking." Skye's response was to rake one hand through Saffron's dark tresses before pulling her into an intensely passionate kiss that almost made up for the weeks apart. There wasn't time to truly make up for it, but with any luck, that would come later before she was called back to Arden.

Saffron murmurs, "Alas," playfully just before their lips meet. And then she does her best to make up for those same weeks, hugging Skye tightly to her. It takes a considerable amount of willpower on her part to remember that they're expected somewhere in ten minutes; when she decides they should come up for air, she can't help but nuzzle the other woman's neck. "You had to agree to a sparring match," she sighs in protest.

"How was I to know Fiona would pick today to take less then an hour playing wise elder?" Skye murmurs in protest. She inhales the scent of Saffron's hair before pulling back. She gently pushes the other's raven curls back from her face. "Besides, I'm sure this won't take that long, and he'll be tired before I will. Then we can come back up here, or go to your house. Though I'd rather not waste time riding across town."

She kisses Saffron's noise and smiles. "Help me change; I can never lace the back of those Scythian leathers properly by myself."

As Skye turns towards her wardrobe, Saffron feels something brush against her psychically. Not Fiona, nor anyone else she knows, but somehow familiar anyway. It's weak, though. Her talent and experience tell her that it's partly an innate weakness, but also attenuation and maybe something else. Before even she can grasp it, though, it's gone.

There's a moment's pause. "We can stay here," Saffron says finally, sounding slightly distracted. "And of course I'll lace you up."

With a handful of leather, Skye turns to eye the other woman. She tosses the pieces on the bed before reaching in and getting the rest. "What? Saff, if I'd known Fi was going to be finished so quickly, I would have done this later..."

"No, no, it's not that..." the dark-haired sorceress answers. "It's... something." She frowns sharply and stamps one foot in a flare of irritation. "Bah. 'Something.' It's familiar, but too far... and gone." In a low, irritated growl, she finishes, "And that's it. I hate being poked by Persons Unknown."

Skye's eyebrow twitched as she removed her jacket. "You really shouldn't growl like that, sweetheart. It's distracting. Please explain this poking."

"Well, they certainly weren't in the room with us; you would have noticed," Saffron answers grumpily. "And you're trying to deflate my temper again. It was mental contact - and not enough to get a handle on it."

Skye continues undressing, taking the time to hang up her uniform as she removes each piece. Down to her black bra and knickers, she walks over and gives Saffron a kiss on the temple. "You think better when you are less grumpy - adorable as I might find that look. Now, who is not here that would try and contact you? You said it was too far."

"I don't know," she answered in exasperation. "It wasn't Aunt Fiona. I don't think it was anyone I know." Trailing off, she paces restlessly to the bed and picks up a piece of leather, staring at it blankly for a moment. "Weak, overstretched... I don't know." She rights the piece she's holding and sighs. "And sort of familiar. But I don't recognise from where yet."

"Getting yourself worked up isn't going to help matters," Skye points out calmly.

"You always say that," Saffron mutters grumpily.

"Because it's true," Skye rejoins. It isn't that she is not taking it seriously, but there is only so much she can do to help in this situation. She sits on the bed and pulls her trousers out of the pile of leather. "Go through the list of everyone that is not in Amber, and cross off anyone who would not be familiar from previous contact." She pauses to look up at Saffron. "That is how they would be familiar, right? Previous mental contact?"

"I don't know if that will work," the dark-haired woman answers, laying down the object she'd picked up again, neatly. "Even if I limit it to just Amber and Chaos, there are still too many possibilities. And it could have been someone using something other than their own minds, which would make who it was harder to find out." She huffs and plops down on the edge of the bed. "And it didn't last long enough to be useful."

"Well," Skye says as she stands and shimmies her trousers the rest of the way up. "It doesn't sound like anything can be done but wait and see if it happens again." She twists her upper body and fastens the laces at the hip. "Which is bound to drive you mad." She smiles. "I suppose I shall just have to distract you."

Saffron sighs, and after a moment smiles slightly. "Alas. I don't know how you'll survive trying to distract me." She stands back up and moves closer. "Here, I'm supposed to be helping you with those..."

Skye snorts a laugh. "I'm well rested and feeling frisky, sweets. I rather think it's you that will not survive the attempt." She leans over and gives Saffron a quick kiss. Then she sheds her bra and pulls on the leather sleeveless top of her armor. Pulling her hair aside, she turns around so Saff can lace her up.

Smiling, Saffron obediently does up the laces. "You're feeling frisky now," she teases as she works. "We'll see how you feel after your sparring match. Do you suppose we should arrange for a hot bath on our way down?" She deposits a light kiss on the nape of the brunette's neck. "There, all done."

"I think that can be arranged, my little minx," murmurs Skye. She nuzzles the sorceress a too brief moment before stepping back with a sigh. "We'll snag a page or someone on the way down."

The Ranger makes quick work of stomping into her boots, shrugging into her sheath harness and getting Saffron's help in tying on her vambraces. She slides her blades home with a snick and snags a ponytail holder from the small bowl on her side table. "Let's go find a Page to scandalize," she grins. "And then you can watch the multiple personalities of Benedict's son smack me around -- until you set him afire, anyway."

"I have no intention of setting //anyone// on fire today," Saffron laughs. "Would you like me to do your hair, sweetheart? Braid it, at least?"

"That would be great," Skye smiles and hands her the hair tie. "If I do it, it will look like there's snakes wrestling on my head."

"It's never that bad," Saffron sniffs, moving behind her. "Not even when you've got bird's nests in." She rakes her fingers gently though Skye's hair, gathering it together, and starts to braid. "Snakes wrestling is dreadlocks, like that warrior we met the last time we visited your mother - the one that was practicing her archery and split her own arrows twice while we were watching. What was her name?"

"Mmm...Dushera," purred Skye. "Shield sister to my my mother's Second." she leaned her head back and closed her eyes while Saffron worked. "It is about time we visited again. If there is something out there eyeing Amber, I may need to request a Scythian horde."

"We should visit," Saffron agrees. "Soon. And if you keep purring like that, woman, we're going to be terribly late..." Smiling, she kisses Skye's hair. "All done."

"Alas," she declares as she turns, smiling. "Let's get this over with. As good as that gown looks on you, it will look better on my floor."

Saffron grins. "I was planning to save this for a surprise, love. I saw the pattern and just fell in love." Her smile goes sly. "Wait till you see what goes underneath..."

Skye looks pained. "Teasing wench," she sighs. "I may just have to punish you for that." Then she waggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Alas." She laughs and heads for the door.

Laughing, Saffron follows. "Is it going to be the same sort of punishment as last time? That was rather fun..."

"Woman, how many times must I tell you? If you enjoy it, it isn't punishment. You could at least act contrite!" For good measure, Skye smacks her when she walks passed on her way out the door the brunette is holding open for her.

By the time they were both out in the hall, she is all blue eyed innocence.

Saffron, on the other hand, is still grinning. "But acting contrite is not nearly so fun..."

Skye gives that remark an indignant sniff. She spots an upstairs maid and strides over to order a bath be waiting in an hour, as well as a light meal and a pitcher of chilled water and a bottle of Saffron's favorite wine. She whispers something to the maid that makes the girl's eyebrows rise before sauntering back to Saffron's side.

"Shall we?" she asks innocently with a broad gesture towards the stairs.

Saffron's eyebrows rise as well. "Oh, I suppose..." She moves that way, eyeing the other woman with a hint of suspicion. "Planning a surprise for later, are we?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Skye responds smoothly. "Besides, I would think my getting an unexpected day of leave from Julian would be surprise enough. Really, Saffron, you are terribly spoiled."

"I can't imagine how that's happened," the raven-haired woman answered blandly, a hint of mischief in her voice. "I suppose it's all this city life. Obviously 'Ranger' offsets all the spoiling you get."

"Yes, well, eating bugs will do that," Skye replies lazily. "I'm especially fond of the roasted grasshoppers."

"Are you?" Saffron asks brightly, grinning. "Well, I'll be sure to save the next crop of them I catch in the garden, just for you. I can season it with something tasty... Moss and mushrooms, perhaps?"

"Moss?" Skye gasps, clearly appalled. "With grasshoppers? No, no! Mushrooms and wild onions." She tsks and shakes her head. "Moss.... "

With a mock-disdainful sniff, Saffron answers, "And how am I supposed to know what goes best with grasshopper? Some of us prefer to eat creatures a bit higher on the food chain."

Skye sneers. "City girl." It might be more impressive, if she had been able to not giggle.

"Tree dweller," Saffron shoots back, trying to smother her own laughter.

"Aw, someone talked about my treehouse, didn't they?" Skye pouts and kicks at the floor. "Stupid squirrels." She grins cheerfully. "I blame Corwin."

The practice yard itself was a large rectangle of packed earth surrounded on three sides by stone walls and bordered on the fourth by tall shrubbery. Practice dummies were set up at one end, and there were wooden benches placed here and there along the edges for resting or observers. Taking up a large portion of one corner and part way down one wall is an arrangement of bars and narrow timbers that had been installed during Eric's reign for his daughter. Skye's warm-ups and solo practices were rather more gymnastic then anyone else's that had been using the yard, and he had based the arrangement on his observations of her style, and the training of the Scythian sword maids.

Skye stops at a bench and shrugs out of her scabbard harness carefully. After removing her blades, she drops it on the bench. "Sadly, this will not help you with your homework," she smiles at Saffron. "But it may be more entertaining."

Saffron laughs. "Anything is more entertaining than that assignment, trust me. Sparring... living in a tree... a game of chess..."

"Oooh... ouch," Skye laughs. She laces her fingers together behind her back and stretches them straight out behind her. "I admire your fortitude; I would never have made it through University."

"Sure you would have," Saffron answers. "It's just a matter of picking the right classes." She pauses, and then sighs. "And trying to survive the ones you're required to take and don't care about."

Lucas arrives quietly, and with no particular style. He is wearing a different outfit from that he wore at the party, but not one either better or worse, with a loose fitting dark blue button-up silk shirt, slightly tighter black silk pants, a black leather belt with a silver buckle, and flexible-soled leather boots coming up about half-way to his knees that have either been dyed blue, or are from a very strange animal indeed. His visible weaponry is unchanged from earlier, consisting of a bastard sword in a scabbard extending over his right shoulder, and two daggers at his belt. All three hilts are bright silver, and unadorned. He moves, as ever, efficiently and effortlessly, but without any real grace, though he seems a bit more relaxed than he was earlier.

He smiles at Skye and Saffron as he walks up, and his tone is light and friendly "Hello again, ladies. Would you like to talk for a bit, or perhaps do some warming up, or shall we just get right down to what we're here for?" he pauses a moment then looks a bit chagrined and sighs "That didn't come out quite right, did it?"

Skye turns to Lucas and just laughs at his chagrin. "We know what you meant. No harm done." She gives Saffron a wink as she leans down to pick up her blades. "We can get right to it if you like."

With that the young Ranger walks towards the center, twirling both gently curving blades at her sides, the sunlight flashing along their silvery lengths. She's humming a tune Saffron will recognize as a Scythian fighting song. The tune is deceptively light, considering the lyrics.

The packed earth is hard and probably cold even now. The sun, though, has begun shining down on the yard, and both Skye and Lucas know that the earth will warm and become more elastic - though probably not before their bout is done.

Lucas smiles once more, and draws his blade. The polished steel glinting in the sunlight, and assumes a position opposite Skye. His face goes serious and he speaks calmly then "Any particular rules you have in mind, or are we going no-holds-barred, albeit trying not to hurt each other? I'll admit to a preference for no-holds-barred myself."

Skye grins at him over the V formed by the blades crossed in front of her. "I was never one for rule bound, set duels. If I wanted that much choreography, I would go dancing. Let's just try to avoid the infirmary. The commander gets huffy when I come back from leave needing the medic."

Lucas's smile brightens "Ah, a woman after my own heart. Shall we begin then?" and with that, suddenly all expression vanishes, his face becoming completely blank, and his stance shifting to one more suitable for battle, he holds his blade two handed, at an angle in front of him, and begins to advance slowly and cautiously.

Skye rocks back on the balls of her feet at the same time that her right arm moves back and up, the blade in that hand above and behind her in a graceful arc. Simultaneously her left arm comes up slightly, holding the blade in a position that it can be used to block or attack. She circles Lucas as he moves forward; blue eyes sharp, watching and assessing, calling to mind a coiled snake ready to spring.

Lucas continues to advance cautiously, then, almost faster than Skye can perceive, and with absolutely no change of expression, his grip on the sword shifts to one-haded and his left hand has something in it, which then flies spinning through the air directly at her.

Indeed, it was almost faster than Skye can perceive - but not quite. Skye's left hand sword moves to block, and strikes the knife, making the blades ring as the knife gets diverted to the side. Skye can, however, feel the rush of the knife's passage, making it clear that the deflection was a very close thing.

Skye arches an eyebrow. Not in surprise at the dagger's passing, as she knew his skill exceeded her own by a narrow enough margin to make it interesting. But the rest of her expression gave nothing away. Her front blade came back into position and she continued to circle. A quarter later she springs into action; a whirling dance of sharp edges that is as graceful as it is deadly.

Lucas' expression remains utterly empty, but almost on it's own, his sword, now held two handed once more, flicks out to parry the flashing blades, meanwhile, his left foot snakes out in a perfectly executed sweep, attempting to knock Skye off her feet.

Saffron is viewing all of this from the bench by the wall. She's tucked her feet and her skirts back underneath her seat and is leaning forward slightly as she watches intently.

Skye's own assault is well on its way when she realises the double nature of Lucas' attack. In a heartbeat's time, she knows that she can either land a blow and mostly block one of his moves, or block both of his attacks for the most part. Stinging palms are easier to continue functioning with. Also, less likely to annoy Saffron. So Skye manages, barely, to block Lucas' blow, her palms stinging with the force of his blow, and her foot definitely feeling the blow, but still fully functional.

Lucas keeps the fight in close, pressing forward, with his sword now striking faster and faster, a blur of glinting silver in the sun's light.

Still circling, Skye dances back, forcing him to chase her to maintain his assault. There is a ghost of a smile there - even when she grunts under a particularly hard strike. Skye maintains a solid defense against Lucas' attacks, though his blows are definitely strong enough to make her blades ring and her arms ache. Still, Lucas manages to limit how much of the ring she can use for her circling, and thus how long she'll be able to avoid a major exchange.

She isn't above using her environment in any way possible. She leaps onto benches, does hands free cartwheels over their backs; dances among the bars and beams of the training apparatus in the corner that she can navigate blindfolded. But she isn't shy about leaping right back into Lucas' space when she feels the need; blades flashing and ringing when they engage.

Lucas simply doesn't follow her into the training apparatus, though he easily compensates for the bench leaping, instead he slides out another throwing knife from somewhere and throws tosses it at her with inhuman speed and precision. That first one is followed by another and another and another in rapid succession.

Lucas' barrage is so fast and accurate that she can only defend by dodging behind beams and the like. One of the knives strikes a beam and a splinter from the blow strikes Skye's left arm. Though it does little enough damage, it's still a solid reminder of the reality of the weapons they've chosen to use.

A leap back into the ring as Lucas completes his throws almost gets through, but a stop-thrust by Lucas' sword is closely parried by Skye. Too closely, in fact, as the sword scores a deep line along her right vambrace.

Skye winces at the damage to her vambrace even as she spins to the left and skips to the side. Her mother was going to have a few words for her when she goes home next; which will be sooner then anticipated now.

Lucas renews his assault, pressing forward once more with a series of swift and brutal blows, his blade seeming everywhere at once.

Lucas' blows continue to come closer than Skye would prefer, but as he gets more aggressive, he also seems to get somewhat more open in his stance. The question Skye must ask herself is whether she's good enough to take advantage of that opening without giving him an opening in return.

And, of course, there's always the possibility that the opening is deliberate.

Neither having sparred the other before, it's taken some time, but it is clear by this point that Lucas is the better - but that Skye is more than skilled enough to defend. The only question remaining is, can she strike Lucas, and what is she willing to pay to do so?

Skye chooses to ignore the openings for now. Instead she chooses to continue defending and leading Lucas on an energetic chase to keep her engaged. Skye can't claim to know for a fact that she can outlast him, but she does know most people tire out before she does and she has been pushing herself over the years to increase her stamina - also, he did mention that he thought he would tire before her. Plus, her blades are a lot lighter then that broadsword of his.

Lucas's reaction to this is simple, he backs off. Another quick knife draw, and perfect throw follows, as do another two after that. Cool as ice, and clearly being careful not to overexert himself.

Skye, as before, is able to deflect the knives, but as before, the deflection is very close. Still, even though Lucas is not exerting himself overmuch, every action does tire him. Of course, all have heard of Random's fencing bout with Corwin. Twenty four hours, and both remained fresh.

The likelihood of this bout going that long is, of course, not high, but it's pretty obvious that simple maneuvering isn't going to tire either of them out.

Lucas advances now, calmly and methodically, his face still an utter blank. He draws a dagger with his left hand, and throws forward a flurry of attacks once ore, now using both hands to attack and defend, duplicating some of her own style.

Skye has her own focus, though different from her opponent's. She apparently finds something amusing, as indicated by the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She leans to avoid the dagger and her style shifts slightly as she moves in to engage. She is getting really tired of the daggers he keeps pulling seemingly out of ... well, wherever. She finds his continued use of them somewhat disappointing.

Lucas' last dagger in his hand, he advances on Skye, who moves to engage him as well. As Skye avoids the dagger, Lucas' blade sweeps in. Skye is easily able to block that, but even as she does, Lucas changes directions on his dagger, and the butt strikes her on the wrist.

Unfortunately for Lucas, it's not a strong blow, and her second blade cuts in and tags him lightly on the arm.

Lucas's lack of expression never wavers, and he continues attacking, doing so with a complex and ever changing sequence of blows and thrusts, though he appears to have slowed down a trifle, as if to reflect the 'severity' of the 'wound' to his arm. Then, rather suddenly, his left leg flickers out with a quick kick to Skye's knee.

Skye skips sideways and back just long enough to change her grip and then she is coming at him in a no holds barred flurry of silver.

Skye's leg is nearly knocked from under her as she charges back at Lucas with her flurry, but she manages to land a blow on Lucas' upper left arm as well.

As they disengage, Skye's leg has a moment of trouble supporting her weight, until she gets her balance again.

Lucas waits calmly for Skye's next move, his face still an utter blank, and seeming oblivious to any pain from the damage to his arm.

Skye's next move is to continue her attack, not letting up one bit. If she's in any discomfort, she's is hiding it well.

Lucas responds calmly and methodically, parrying quickly and professionally and lashing out in response.

The mistake - if it could even be called a mistake - is tiny. Saffron doesn't even know what happened, though Skye knows immediately when she makes it, if not specifically what it is. Perhaps she extended her sword a little too far, put a little too much energy into it.

Whatever the case, Lucas' own blade lightly eels around hers, smacking her in the chest, hard. Were she anyone else, that would end the fight, but Skye is tougher than that, and manages to pull back before Lucas can follow through.

Lucas pauses for half a second, though still in a fighting stance and his face and tone still oddly blank, and speaks politely "Do you wish to concede?"

Skye steps back out of range and crosses her blades in front of her. "I don't know if 'concede' is the word I would use. Hold."

She turns and looks at Saffron. "How long have we been down here?"

Saffron shakes her head. "I'm sorry; I wasn't paying attention to the time."

The brunette sighs and checks the position of Lucas' shadow to determine the time. "I have an appointment," she explains to Lucas. "And I don't imagine 'I got caught up in getting my tail kicked around' will be an acceptable excuse for missing it."

Lucas' blank expression vanishes, replaced by a friendly smile, and his blades lower somewhat "I understand entirely. Thank you very much for the sparring, as I said, finding worthy opponents is more than a bit difficult. We must do this again some time."

"Next time we're both in town and have some time," Skye agrees cheerfully. Her blades are lowered to her sides and she starts towards the bench where her scabbards rested with Saffron. "For now, though ... I would be interested to hear what you make of this morning's events?"

Lucas's smile dies and his face grows serious "Personally? I think it bodes ill. Assuming the Chaosian spoke truth, we have an unknown enemy with potent capabilities, and if he lied, which I doubt, but cannot be discounted out of hand, that means that Chaos is attempting to maniplate us. Either way, we have a rather severe problem. Beyond that? I don't think we have enough evidence to say."

"There is more to it then meets the eye," Skye opines. "Did you notice how Random was watching everyone? How the Elders of the Court seemed to be expecting something. Flora looked terrified, but Flona and Random didn't twitch really. They didn't expect him to be on fire I don't think, but they expected." She pauses and considers. "Julian and Gerard may not have expected it, seeing how swiftly they moved to put themselves in front of Random."

Lucas nods slowly "I noticed, but I'm not entirely sure I'd draw quite the same conclusion. I'd suspect Random, and likely most of the rest of our aunts and uncles, knew or felt that something was going to happen, but I equally suspect they had no idea what. Which explains their various reactions. Perhaps magic or prophecy was involved, but it might equally just have been an...instinct. A feeling that something was in the air. Our elders have a keen instinct for danger, honed over centuries."

Skye's expression darkens. "I do not buy into that. They have been caught off guard and flat footed too often. What they had was a keen sense of their own immortality, which Patternfall squished like a bug." As swiftly as it came, the darkness vanishes as they approach the bench. Skye smiles at Saffron as she shakes out a towel to wipe down her blades.

Saffron smiles at them both as they approach. "Very nice, both of you. That looked like a good workout."

Skye shrugs. She sets down one blade and examines the other as she wipes it down. "Too short, I think," she says with a smile at Lucas. "We will have to see if we can schedule a bigger block of time for the next opportunity." Turning back to Saffron, she adds; "We were just discussing the disturbance this morning. How long do you both think it will be before they send us to investigate?"

"Tomorrow morning," Saffron answers sensibly. "They will want the rest of the day to be suspicious and circle each other like mutts fighting over a female in heat." She smiles slightly. "Or at least that would have been the reaction under the old regime. I don't know, honestly, but tomorrow seems like a good bet."

Lucas nods, his smile returning for a moment "Agreed. Though I suspect the reasons differ a bit under the current regime. Only two thirds will be being suspicious, with the other third consisting of planning. I believe they call that progress."

Skye first blade snicks home into the scabbard. She picks up the next one for her attention. "Reasonable conclusions," she says. "I suppose that means we should take the rest of the day with an eye for being on the road tomorrow." Skye finishes with her blade and slides it home into its scabbard. She offers the towel to Lucas.

He nods and takes it, beginning to clean his own weapons "That sounds about right, yes." he smiles then "Not that I have a great deal of preparation to do. Paranoia tends to leave one prepared for a variety of eventualities at all times."

"I am locationally prepared," replies Skye with a short laugh. "I have court dress - and practice armor at the castle, casual stuff at Saffron's, and my uniforms and most of my fighting gear in Arden. I really should do something about that one of these days."

Skye shrugged back into her scabbard harness and adjusted it across her chest. "If you will excuse us, Lucas, the lady sorceress and I have an appointment to keep."

Lucas nods still smiling slightly, and sheathes his sword, which he has finished cleaning "Of course. A pleasure sparring with you, and thank you once again for agreeing to do so. Adieu until the morrow, ladies."

Skye gives him a bright smile and then turns it on Saffron. "Come, Scorch. Or you will be the one explaining why we are late."

"I?" Saffron answers innocently. "I am not the one that wanted to come engage in a mutual beating-up session." She smiles brightly at Lucas again and rises. "Until tomorrow."

"Yes, but you are the one not watching the time," Skye replies reasonably. As she starts to walk away, she waves over her shoulder at Lucas. "If he had not stopped, we would be going till dark. As you are aware. Wench."

"Ah," Saffron says mischievously as she turns to walk with the other woman, "but what if I were to say that I was simply dazzled by the display of skill?"

Skye and Saffron left the courtyard, still bickering good-naturedly as they went.

"Oh, is that what it was?" Skye smirks. She looks over her shoulder to make sure they were out of earshot before nudging Saffron with her shoulder and lowers her voice. "I was sure it was the daggers he kept pulling out of his …. well, I don't think I want to go there."

Saffron chuckles. "I didn't say whose skill, did I?" She winks. "I was wondering where those daggers were coming from. Let's pretend it was somewhere sanitary."

The brunette shudders. Then she suddenly thrusts out her arm with the damaged vambrace. "Na is going to be very vexed with me," Skye sighs. "If she asks, I am going to say I was sparring with Julian. She will accept that." She pulls her arm in and examines the deep cut in the leather. "I am not certain the armorer can repair this here. I may just have to do without until we can get to Scythia for a replacement."

"We will both say you were sparring with Julian," Saffron says firmly. "If anyone should ask me. Is it that damaged?" She eyes the offending cut. "I would rather you wear something than nothing…"

"It goes almost all the way through," Skye admits while tugging at the laces to take it off. "Good thing I put them on. I really need to get more sparring time in somewhere." She eyes the cut again and frowns. "It really surprised me, actually."

"I saw that," the dark-haired sorceress answers. "I thought about setting his pants on fire then, but I wasn't sure he was worth the effort." She sniffs disdainfully. "Now, if you'd been having trouble…"

"I knew you had my back," Skye grins. Then she shook her head as they stepped back into the castle. "This will sound strange, but you have seen how Scythian's spar with blades and words; that was actually kind of … boring."

Saffron smirks slightly. "I wasn't going to say it first. It really kind of was. Except for… well, you know."

"Except for the part where I was dancing around in leather trousers," Skye grins and hip checks her girlfriend. "Although I seem to recall you like the little leather kirtles and tops quite a bit when we are in my mother's Court. Goddess knows I do."

Saffron grins smugly. "Well, the kirtles do show off your legs better… but the trousers do such a nice job of showing off other assets."

"One of these days," Skye says lowly in that particularly sexy growl she has. "I am going to say to Hades with what people might say and take you right here in these halls."

"One of these days," Saffron murmurs lowly, leaning closer with that look in her eyes that usually presaged a steamy kiss, "it will be a race to see who takes who in the halls. Speaking of races…" She grabs her skirts in both hands and sprints off down the hall, shooting a playful grin over her shoulder. "We'll be late if we don't hurry, remember?"

Skye stays and watches the retreating sorceress a moment, before laughing and racing after her. "Minx!"

Skye catches up with Saffron, and they continue down the corridor, but then something gets their attention. For Saffron, just a slight hint of a shiver down her spine, for Skye, a noise that's out of place.

Turning, they catch a glimpse - just a glimpse, nothing more - of a large man, bearded, dark-haired with bits of white throughout, dressed in green tunic and trews. He's gone before either of them can get more of an impression than that, though it's unclear exactly where he went.

"What….?" Skye blinks at the spot a moment. She glances at Saffron then moves over to where the man had been to see if she can determine where he went.

Skye's initial, cursory glance, isn't enough to indicate more than the fact that someone had definitely been there. There were footprints in the carpet, for one. But there aren't very many places for him to have ducked into, either, and as close as it was, the two know they would have heard a door opening.

Saffron glances back at her with eyes that are just slightly wider than they were before. "What was that?" she asks. "Or who…?" She doesn't move from where she had skidded to a stop.

Skye frowns, biting her lip as she turns back to Saffron. "He … he looked -," she shakes her head, and when she speaks again, it is at a whisper. "I was reminded of Oberon."

Saffron shuts her eyes and rubs at her forehead with one hand unhappily. "Please tell me you didn't say that, Skye. It's not a good day for being scolded for running in the halls by a ghost. Especially that one." She opens one eye slightly to look at the brunette. "You're right, though… it did kind of look like him."

Biting her lip pensively again, she looks back to the spot then returns to Saffron. "All right," Skye says calmly. "We can pretend this never happened and go on with our bath; or we can tell someone who will think we are mad, or will give us that condescending look they save for when they have known something all along and kept it to themselves. Or want us to think they knew all along before they shoo us out of the room." She scowls. "I hate when they do that."

"I know," Saffron answers. "I hate it too. I usually go set fire to things afterwards until I feel better." She sighs and lowers her hand from her forehead. "Let's… I don't know. Let me take a look and see if I see anything, I guess, and if there's nothing, let's wait and see if it happens again?" Tentatively, she takes a look around for anything resembling sorcery or other Powers.

Saffron's test is a bit more conclusive. There is definitely a trace of something. Not Pattern, she knows that well, and not the one she'd felt in the Hall. It's too alien, however, to get a good sense of whether it's Power or power.

"Well, if it's a ghost," Skye says firmly. "The old pervert better stay out of the bathroom… and the bedroom. Or I will be happy to show him those loopholes large enough to charge Morgenstern through in his 'no marrying of brothers and sisters' rule."

"Including the part where we're cousins and not siblings?" Saffron asks, dry and amused. "If we didn't have the bath waiting, I'd say we go back to the house. If he comes and lurks there, we'd know we have some serious problems." She considers the spot further, undecided. "I can always ask Aunt Fiona when I talk to her next whether there's a history of hauntings around here. It could be it wasn't him, just some guy."

"Right," Skye says. She takes Saffron's arm and determinedly marches her away from the spot and for her rooms. "Later. The next couple of hours are not for ghosts. After that, well, you can go ask Fiona, and I'll go see what Julian has to say about hauntings."

"Right," Saffron echoes, with one last glance back. "And no more running in the halls today."

Her partner scoffs. "I somehow doubt it had anything to do with running in the halls." She frowns. "Although … it could be related to what happened this morning."

"Unknown power sets people on fire and raises ghosts in the halls of Castle Amber?" Saffron sighs. "I hope not. I really, really hope not. This is not what I was looking for when I complained that my class was boring."

"But what an exciting paper it will make, dear," Skye smiles. "You know what? Unless a ghosts pops up in the bath, I am not going to worry about it right now. There isn't a thing I could do anyway. Except, perhaps, mock them because I can do things they cannot."

Saffron sighs melodramatically. "Skye, sweetheart, it's not generally advised to mock ghosts. That's usually when the poltergeist activity starts and people get hurt."

Skye sniffs. "Why do I care if the castle has poltergeist? I live in the woods."

"Yes, but you're not in the woods right now, are you?" Saffron replies, smiling.

"Why must you spoil my fun?" Skye huffs. "Just for that, no….hmm… I'll think of something later. Here we are." With a flourish she bows Saffron into her rooms and follows afterwards. Within Skye's rooms, all is as it should be, just as she left it.

Skye still gives the rooms a wary look as they pass through the sitting room and into the bedroom. She starts peeling out of her weapons and armor, tossing the leathers onto the bench at the foot of the bed until she can look through them later for weaknesses caused by the hits she had taken. She doesn't want to admit it; not now in these stolen moments Julian had given them so unexpectedly. But the apparition in the hall has shaken her up. What could it possibly mean that the ghost of Oberon - if that had indeed been Oberon - had appeared in the halls of Castle Amber?

Saffron perches on the edge of the bed and watches. She helps with the disarming as she sees need, but mostly she sits there with that worried look Skye knows altogether too well, though it's only partially directed at her. The rest of the concern is directed off at the uncomfortable thought that there are suddenly far too many alien powers - or Powers - floating around in Amber, particularly with Fiona now absent. One thumb taps absently against her skirt in a thoughtful way. "Sweetheart? Do you think maybe we should go ahead and tell someone…?"

Skye drops down beside her and sighs. She leans forward with her elbows on her knees and scrubs her face with the heel of her hands. "Probably," she agrees heavily. She pushes herself back to her feet and pulls a creamy linen poet shirt out of the wardrobe to pull over her head since she was down to her trousers and boots. "Random?"

"Most likely," Saffron agrees with a sigh of her own. "I'd rather be in the bath, but…"

"Fucking Oberon," Skye mutters scathingly in an uncharacteristic use of profanity. But as Saffron knows, Oberon shares part of the blame for Eric's death; at least in Skye's eyes. She redons her hip scabbard and sheathes her blades in them. "Now all I need is that rat weasel Corwin to show up and my day will be made."

Saffron rises and moves to the other woman's side, putting a gentle hand on her lower back. "Sweetheart, if he shows up…" She offers a tilted smile. "Well, I'll just have to set him on fire for you. Maybe it wasn't Oberon; maybe we're both just jumping to conclusions…"

She gets a sideways look and a crooked smile in response. "I know. But you must admit; if anyone had the strength of Will to come back, it is that old snake." She leans over and kisses Saffron quickly. "Let's get this over with. There is a slim possibility we will manage to salvage some of this day."

"I know." Saffron's smile straightens out. "I'm tempted to insist we salvage it at the house, since we know for a fact it is not haunted. But we can decide that later." She hugs Skye briefly and then releases her, stepping back. "Let's go."

Skye gives the bathroom a longing look and sighs again as she turns and leaves with Saffron to go look for Random. "Alright. If we can't get in to see Random, do you know if Fiona's still around?"

"I'm not sure," Saffron answers. "I believe she was getting ready to Trump somewhere; she pulled a card out before she left the hall. I can try calling her if we need to." She smiles slightly. "After all, she didn't except today from the instructions to call every day at random times."

"True enough," Skye agrees. "But I will be feeling quite petulant by then. This is not how our day was supposed to go."

"And that is why I'll be starting the conversation with her." Saffron shoots her a wry smile. "I know it isn't, dearheart. Hopefully this won't take long at all and we can spend the rest of the day relaxing."

Skye reaches back and pulles her braid over her shoulder, playing with the ends. "If we aren't assigned to wandering around, looking for ghosts." She looks at Saffron out of the corner of her eye. "We'll be very thorough in the linen closets."

"Alas," Saffron answers blandly. "There are an awful lot of linen closets in this place. But I can't imagine we'll have to wander around looking for ghosts. You don't look for ghosts - they come to you."

"Sometimes," Skye says quietly. "But it depends on why it's a ghost, doesn't it? Some of the them haunt where they died. The library in the Sorceror's Spire is haunted, but nowhere else. Some haunt people. Which, I think, would be bad."

"Yes, it would," Saffron agrees. "You would have to actually buy that fireproof clothing you've been threatening to get. Lurking mystery figures - particularly ones that can vanish and reappear at will - make me testy." She sighs. "There's another type of ghost, though, right? The type that appears as a warning

The Ranger sighs. "Is there a full moon tonight? The place is going mad."

"I have no idea." The sorceress shakes her head. "Let's go back to the linen closets; that was less upsetting a topic."

"I like that idea…," Skye stops suddenly and looks at Saffron. "So…. where do we look for Random, anyway?"

"Umm…" Saffron stops as well. "Well… either we go back to where Court was and try and track him down from there, or we go knock on his door, or we just go sit down and call him, I guess."

"I choose C," Skye declares. "You'll have to do it. My deck is in my room."

Saffron rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "Your room is only two hallways back the way we came, Skye. But I suppose I can do it, if you will track me down a sitting room."

She tsks. "Being the brilliant Scout that I am, I can tell you that there is one two doors down on your right. Last time I was in it, it was yellow. A brilliant setting for you, my lovely firebird."

"Flattery," the sorceress answers, mock-scolding, "is only going to get you so far. You get to make any further Trump calls." She turns and moves towards the indicated door.

Skye hangs back a moment, enjoying the view. "It gets me far enough that my talents carry me the rest of the way," she says with a sly grin as she comes up beside Saffron again.

Saffron shakes her head and laughs. "Minx."

In the sitting room, she settles down on a couch and starts shuffling through her Trumps. "Are you planning to be a part of this call, or are you sitting it out?"

"I think I will be the watchful one unless he wishes to speak to me as well," Skye replies with a nod. "I don't want to look up suddenly and see, I don't know, the ghost of Brand staring at us."

"Don't even joke about that," Saffron answers flatly. "Please." She locates Random's card and turns her attention to the task of trying to contact him.