Dear Diary,

Ho, ho, ho. Back with it once more and feeling glad to be alive. I'm doing better than some of my relatives on that front.

Well, since Cassandra's 'brilliant' spell, which gave us such a laugh, a few events have occurred which should have given us all pause for thought. Dark and I had been taking things reasonably easy in my shadow. It does seem that The White Boar has been breeding, so all hunting's off until the little ones grow up. After the Cassandra incident I was obliged to avail myself of dad's surgical skills (yet again - heigh-ho). Mind you, I wouldn't have been in Amber at all if I hadn't been with Gerard, 'cos he was called back for some meeting or other.

Well, there was this mother of a storm and two things happened. Firstly, Martin turned up somewhat deadish, which is a shame. I didn't know him too well, but Uncle Random's pretty cut up about it. It never rains but it pours (no pun intended). Next some cocky bastard riding the storm came along and shot his mouth off about how he was going to get Phoenix. I owe Phoenix for helping me rescue Dark, he's okay. So I reckon I'll go out of my way to put Stormbum's nose out of joint if I can. We've had two more fatalities since then. Benedict supposedly got shot. I'm really hoping he didn't, he's one of the stabilising forces around here. It would please me a great deal to see him alive and well again. The third death was Julian. One less person for me to be checking my back for. With any luck Rill will be so busy with Arden now he won't have time to bother me either.

It's a bit strange having all these people die, though. One day your talking to them, watching them wander around. Then they're gone forever. Brrrr! Talking of dead people, it looks as though Mad Hetty's gone to meet her maker. I'll miss her directions, I hope she's having a good time wherever she is.

Well, quite a bit of water's gone under the bridge. I think we're on the verge of finding Phoenix to let him know what's going on. His mother seems a bit, um, odd. I'm not so sure if I trust her at all. I'm not entirely convinced she really is my aunt I suppose, though she told me some good yarns about Gerard. Time will tell, but I'll keep my eye on her just the same. It's all a bit jumpy right now. It'll be better when we're not losing an Amberite every other minute. Mind you, I've got a case of nerves from recent events that don't seem inclined to leave me. Maybe it's healthier that way, who knows?

I've skimped on a lot of the details here, but that's only because someone's waved a kipper under my nose. You know I love to hunt and I'm thinking someone must have a deathwish to give me such an opportunity. If he's wishing, I'm a just the fairy godmother he needs. The card is cold, Steel is hungry, and I don't have an shred of mercy for my prey. May the hunt be quick and the death slow. I want him to fully appreciate the extent of my displeasure. I'm pretty sure Dark knows he's alive too, and that pisses me off somewhat. I'm not willing to discuss the point with her though. We've had enough falling outs over this subject and since she doubtless knows what my intentions towards him are, I suppose I can't really blame her for keeping quiet.

Illya tells me he has changed and refuses to help me trap him. Ha! I don't care if he's a born again Christian. I gave him the chance to be reasonable more than once. It's too late to go for the sympathy vote now. Third time lucky if you ask me. If there's any poetic justice left in the world, he'll finish his days on the end of Cold Steel.

The card is cold!

Steel take the man who runs from me

Green the grass speeds past the steed

Tir Rad Yr Eoh, death rides with thee

Black as night, to name the deed

Sharp Steel let the blood run free

Salt red blood and ravens feed

Blade and wielder both agreed

To take the man who runs from me

It worked for the Celts, perhaps it will work for me? Astus Vie adrastus adolphus - Iyn Tangent.

¨Hok seh iyn caleb iyn ehdaeh sehak? Iyn y'eo sel quok eo'och epehdee ynie alum ieyn cheiyn seh iyn quok calebja io. ­Nyei, nyei, nyei eiehda ependee iyn ehei!

Ao t'eh ynieeo bryn, Tangent.

Mixing my metaphors and dicing my tongues, but its the thought that counts, isn't it?

Dear Diary,

Cold Steel has tasted the blood of Amber. If fortune smiles on me it will never have cause to do so again. But if time went back, I'd not change my actions. Call it what you will; a slaying; a murder; pest extermination: Tangent's mind was torn to shreds by mine and Lorenzo's. Tangent's body suffered a similar fate, but by my hand alone. If there is anything left to hate Tangent for, it's that he revealed to Dark just what a mad, bad bastard I can be when the mood takes me. But then, perhaps she knew anyway.

I wonder how long this latest fit of pique will last? If she's not back by the time I'm well, I suppose I'll have to go looking again. Astus Vie and his amazing wandering wife. We have to talk. It's ridiculous to go running off every time there is contention. Ridiculous and dangerous, especially in these times.

There is another matter to discuss with her anyway. After my initial big-mouth-small-brain proclamation that I would slay Tangent's child, I have reconsidered. How could I do anything else? To slay the child for the sins of the father would be monstrous and I've come to the conclusion that to kill the mother and/or steal the child would be little better. I am not Tangent, I will not perpetrate his brand of evil. I would like however, to talk to the other Astus about this matter. There are questions I'm dying to ask and perhaps we can come to some agreement that will be good for us all. Why did she conceive the child? Does she want it out of love or for some more sinister reason? Does she want it at all? It would not displease me to rear it myself and, on reflection, for more noble reasons than spite. It has the blood of Amber in its veins and such a son or daughter should have its birthright no matter who gave it issue. Actually that's rather self-deluding. If I were being perfectly honest I should admit that it would be nice to have a little thing around. I wonder if Dark feels the same? Probably not, or she would have shown more enthusiasm when I suggested corrective surgery. Mind you, after Gerard finished with me, I'm probably not capable either. I feel like a black and blue minstrel.

Uncle Random took Tangent's death surprisingly well. It's a shame dad didn't see it the same way really. In the heat of vengeance I completely forgot about what dad would do. I must remember to thank Random for reminding me. I don't think I've ever seen dad so pissed. I don't think I want to again actually. I put a brave face on it for the benefit of my cousins - ho, ho, It'll mend, Dark will come back when she's ready, Gerard will forgive and forget - and other interesting statements said more to convince myself than anything else. Being beaten to a pulp in public isn't my idea of fun. I knew he wasn't going to be happy about it, but I didn't really think, in my heart of hearts, that he'd take his fists to me - Not until he started hitting me at any rate. I know I signed my own death warrant by having that grin plastered all over my face, but when you get rid of something that's been plaguing you for months - wouldn't you grin too? He must have done something like this before. There must have been a time when he went O.T.T on someone and they just didn't get up again. I dunno. I could have kept the whole thing quiet. Who would have known any better if I'd said he got away from me? When I lie I get threatened with keel-hauling, when I tell the truth I get ten bells of shit beaten out of me. Gerard, you scwewy wabbit. Fu-man Chu; Mao Tse Tung; Ming the Merciless; W'eng Chian; and lots of other unpleasant oriental types that play dirty. Actually he's more like The Thing from Fantastic Four. Except he's not orange. Just lumpy and painful.

Thing is, I can't apologise for something I'm glad I did. It's hard enough apologising even when I mean it and Gerard's not utterly stupid. I'm not sure how to smooth things over. I'd try talking to him, but to be perfectly honest I'm too scared to go anywhere near him until I'm sure he's calmed down. Deirdre says I should do something good for the whole of Amber. Maybe if I stagger down to the kitchen I can persuade Mrs Mulligan to relent on the food situation? Hardly wonderful, but I can't think of anything else right now. There's always 'Operation Gerard', but I'm not brave enough to pull that one while he's in a mood. Puu-uuk! Puk! Puk! Puk!

It's at times like this that a guy needs his gal most, but she never seems to be around when I'm at a real low. Probably because Tangent was normally responsible for all the really shitty bits in my life and every time Tangent reared his ugly (and now diced) head, Dark goes running off. Well, I tried it her way and it caused me nothing but pain. At least it's over now. I'm not sure how many more love/hate triangle situations I could've coped with. Particularly as I seemed to lose out so badly on them. So, with any luck I've pissed off Gerard and Dark for the last time because of that death-deserving scumbucket, and if that truly is the case, it's been well worth the aggro.

I told Dark to make a choice and my guts are still where they're supposed to be (if a little bruised). So she probably chose me. Mind you, she still isn't here.

Dear Diary,

Lying flat on my back has given me time to think. I have thought more about murder.

I talked to Vialle, who seems to have recovered in the main from her 'accident'. Though how completely one can recover from losing a baby, I am not sure. She was trying to reassure me that Gerard probably wouldn't turn me over again. Probably doesn't cut it, but it was nice of her to try. Perhaps my own recent misdeeds have led me to dwell anew on the misdeeds of others, because I found myself trumping Uncle Random and quizzing him on the progress of the investigation.

I ended up with the pillow used against Benedict and found myself wondering whether healing up in a fast shadow would be to invite the wrath of Gerard or not. I decided, with customary swiftness, to risk it. I think my brain comes to these decisions so quickly before self-preservation can intervene. So, in a few minutes of Amber time I was well enough to travel and investigate. Two weeks staggering around the shadow, though.

Now I know I'm not the brightest of people, but I'm smart enough to recognise my faults and compensate for them. It was thus that I found myself standing outside 221b Baker Street, getting ready to avail myself of shadow's most enquiring mind. I introduced myself and allowed Mr Holmes to run some tests on the pillow. While I was waiting I couldn't resist testing a theory on the poker. It's fun being able to bend things and I find myself wishing I hadn't been quite so defeatist when I was younger. All that aside, I ended up inviting Holmes and Watson back to Amber to solve the mystery.

Holmes has come up with some great stuff. Man, I wish my brain worked. Anyway, it looks like Flora is involved rather heavily. Julian was killed because he knew too much. The powder burns were probably made by one of Corwin's guns (or a Benedict version of the same - I find it hard to believe he hasn't come up with something like that, probably long before Corwin did). Benedict is probably alive (yeah! One piece of excellent news, anyway!). And if all goes to form we can catch the murderer (Flora and maybe others) when they try to bump off Holmes (rather him than me).

Well, sun's up and I ought to take Holmes and Watson down to where Julian was nailed to a tree. After breakfast, that is. While I'm in Arden I can try bringing Dark to me as well. Honestly. There are only two people I would even consider taking the big sleep for and I've fallen out with both of them. Stupid smegheads.

Dark; I can understand your being upset, but I've told you a thousand times about running off. I'm getting really pissed off with this. Get your arse back here, woman. You're my wife, so start acting like one! I got jealous and I got even. What the hell did you expect me to do? If you're going to fall in love with Amberites, you've got to expect that kind of reaction. Why is your trump like a normal card? Dark, where are you? Why is my life such a constant bed of disasters? I'm not safe on my own. Why do you think I need you so much? You're the only one I've ever wanted, why can't you see that? I'm a Prince of Amber. I could have anyone, anyone at all. All I want is you. Please come back. Finding the murderer would be a hollow victory if you don't come back.

As for you, Gerard, you steaming great lunkhead. A beating I could take, knowing how you feel about kin-slaying and all. But in public, you overstuffed jackass?! I hope I bruised your knuckles. I hope your socks smell like cheese and I hope The Merry Hoiden falls on your stupid head. I think I deserve a little more understanding from you, old man. I always wanted to be like you, to be liked by you, but you were always so big and unattainable. I could never do what you wanted me to do, not right anyhow. I feel like I've just been one big long string of disappointments to you. An embarrassment. A failed expectation. You never seem to appreciate the effort I put in, you just see the end result, which is never as good as you could do it, or would expect. Most times you seem to look right through me. Most of the trouble I've ever been in has been a result of trying to get your attention. At least when you're patching me up I know I've got it. Who in their right mind would do half the things I've done if they weren't trying to attract someone's attention? Tell me what you want from me and I'll try, but don't expect perfection. I might not be up to much, but I'm yours and you might as well make the best of it instead of wishing for the strongman son you never had.

Of course if I could actually work up the nerve to admit to all this, things might be better. But I know that all I'm going to do is grin and come up with some empty comment that doesn't mean a thing. Ah, the joys of being an Amberite.

Dear Diary,

If life can be likened to a journey - and it often is - today would be the train you only just caught. You collapse into your seat, gasping for breath and feeling slightly embarrassed, but relieved that you were successful. It is, of course, approximately two seconds after the train has pulled away, that you realise you're on your way to Treen instead of Putney.

Lorenzo and Cassandra made their way off into shadow this morning after some fuss. Lorenzo got quite hot under the collar because Random had ordered the burials without consulting him. I tried to tell Lorenzo that his reaction was unwise, but he would not have it. He behaved as if Random had gone 'over his head' and then stated that if Random was not capable of remembering arrangements he ought to step down until he could. Perhaps that is not what Lorenzo meant, but it is the way he sounded. If he sounded like that to me, I dread to think what the others thought. I owe my cousin many favours and am prepared to stand by him to a degree. I just wish he'd keep his rather presumptuous remarks to a minimum. I've made my share in my time and it's truly horrible to see someone making the same mistakes. The trouble is, I tell him that a remark he has made was in poor judgement and he more or less tells me I am a fool for thinking so. I hope it is poor interpretation on my part, or sometime someone's going to get peeved. I agree that Random is a little strange at the moment, but under the circumstances it is small wonder. No matter how 'high' he appeared to be flying however, I would not take the chance on him forgetting anything I might say at that time. Perhaps I imagine things. I am more twitchy than I used to be.

Lorenzo aside, Holmes, Watson and I went to Arden to look at the scene of Julian's death. Holmes told me that it was probably an earth summoned creature that did the deed. Conjuration would have been used, but so many of us are capable of it I am no further on in naming names than I was before.

I tried bringing Dark to me, and surprise, surprise it worked! She was in some sort of cage, soggy and unconscious. I am less inclined to be gracious as far as the other Astus is concerned now. Dark says she wants to do for her, and I'm inclined to help. I still worry about Dark's inclination to wander. I told her how much it annoyed me and how I was sure I'd find her dead one time, but I am not sure if she listened or not. She seems to take some things so lightly, but flies off the handle about others.

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