Someone? Luke, of course. Who else? He was the one who’d imprisoned me. And if he returned — no, when he returned — the booby traps would be waiting. He was armed. He would have me at a disadvantage from the overhead position of the entrance if I merely waited for him below. No way. I would not be there. I would make him come in after me — and then —

Vaguely troubled, I returned to my quarters.

Hands behind my head, I lay there and reviewed my plans. The deadfalls could kill a man, and I did not want Luke dead. This had nothing to do with sentiment, though I had thought of Luke as a good friend until fairly recently — up until the time I learned that he had killed my Uncle.

Caine and seemed intent upon destroying the rest of my relatives in Amber as well. This was because Caine had killed Luke’s father — my Uncle Brand — a man whom any of the others would gladly have done in also. Yes, Luke — or Rinaldo, as I now knew him — was my cousin, and he had a reason for engaging in one of our in-family vendettas. Still, going after everybody struck me as a bit intemperate.

But neither consanguinity nor sentiment bade me dismantle my traps. I wanted him alive because there were too many things about the entire situation that I did not understand and might never understand were he to perish without telling me.

Jasra… the Trumps of Doom… the means by which I had been tracked so easily through Shadow… the entire story of Luke’s relationship with the painter and mad occultist Victor Melman… anything he knew about Julia and her death…

I began again. I dismantled the deadfalls. The new plan was a simple one, and it drew upon something of which I believed Luke had no knowledge.

I moved my sleeping bag to a new position, in the tunnel just outside the chamber whose roof held the blocked entranceway. I shifted some of the food stores there, also. I was determined to remain in its vicinity for as much of the time as possible.