“Here,” I said, drawing it from my belt and passing it over.

“I repeat, what does it involve?” Random inquired.

“The blood of Amber,” Ganelon replied.

“I am not so sure I like this idea,” Random said.

“All you have to do is prick your finger with it,” he said, extending the blade, “and let a drop fall upon the Pattern.”

“What will happen?”

“Let’s try it and see.”

Random looked at me.

“What do you say?” he asked.

“Go ahead. Let’s find out. I’m intrigued.”

He nodded.

“Okay.”

He received the blade from Ganelon and nicked the tip of his left little finger. He squeezed the finger then, holding it above the Pattern. A tiny red bead appeared, grew larger, quivered, fell.

Immediately, a wisp of smoke rose from the spot where it struck, accompanied by a tiny crackling noise.

“I’ll be damned!” said Random, apparently fascinated.

A tiny stain had come into being, gradually spreading to about the size of a half dollar.

“There you are,” said Ganelon. “That is how it was done.”

The stain was indeed a miniature counterpart of the massive blot further to our right. The watchgrifiin gave forth a small shriek and drew back, rapidly turning his head from one of us to the other.

“Easy, fellow. Easy,” I said, reaching out and calming him once more.

“But what could have caused such a large —” Random began, and then he nodded slowly.

“What indeed?” said Ganelon. “I see no mark to show where your horse was destroyed.”

“The blood of Amber,” Random said. “You are just full of insights today, aren’t you?”

“Ask Corwin to tell you of Lorraine, the place where I dwelled for so long,” he said, “the place where the dark circle grew. I am alert to the effects of those powers, though I knew them then only at a distance. These matters have become clearer to me with each new thing I have learned from you. Yes, I have insights now that I know more of these workings. Ask Corwin of the mind of his general.”