Everything was to be seen through a green haze. There were buildings, all of them fragile and most of them high, grouped in patterns and standing in colors that entered my eyes and tore through my mind, seeking after remembrance. . . Inside the city, we were conducted up a wide avenue, lighted by pillar flames set at even closer intervals than on Faiella-bionin, and people stared out at us from behind octagonal, tinted windows, and bright-bellied fishes swam by. . . We were taken to the palace in the center of the city, and I knew it as my hand knew the glove in my belt. It was an image of the Palace Amber, obscured only by the green and confused by the many strangely placed mirrors which had been set within its walls, inside and out.

Nine Princes in Amber

And, indeed, as you accept the Trump Call buzzing insistently in your head, you see that the person that has called you indeed is from this strange realm. She, for your caller is female, is sitting in a oyster shell shaped couch or divan of some sort.

She is lovely indeed, with her deep blue hair falling to her shoulders, her hazel eyes, and obviously soft, light green, skin. She is dressed only in trunks of a shade of white, not apparently prudish by her bare chest and breasts, accented as they are by a long silver chain upon which hangs a dolphin in gold.

"Hello. I am Adryann, Court Trump Artist to her Majesty, Queen Moire of Rebma. She has asked me, in order to foster and encourage visits to our realm, to personally tell you of our world, our people, our life."

"Are are, as you land dwellers like to claim, the reflection of Amber, just the double of Amber in the ocean? But, then, would you claim that the city of the sky is just a double of Amber, too? When clearly Tir Na Nogth is very very different indeed. So, too we are as well. Rebma is unique too."

"We are ruled by the grace and wisdom of Queen Moire, long may Lir allow her to reign." Adyrann smiles. "The main way to visit our city is Faiella-Bionin, the stair that leads from the beach 70 kilometers south-southwest of Amber, down beneath the waves to the Main Gate, and the entrance to Rebma. A pyramid of stones stands on the beach to mark the spot."

"This marble staircase is 15 meters across and has wide banisters at either side, and is about 120 meters long. Beginning a little more than 15 meters below the surface, there are torches with two-foot-high flames to light the way, so do not fear the gloom that comes when the sun's rays fail. If not for our extensive magic, Rebma would be as dark as any eternal night above."

"The Entire of Rebma, as well as the staircase, has a magical property about it, which allows for surface dwellers to come and visit us. The water is breathable, and more over, allows for both easy swimming as well as simple walking on surfaces. It is said that the Pattern, of which I shall describe later, causes this. Almost every Rebman, however, can breathe water naturally, so that we are free to swim out of the city into the greater ocean beyond."

Adryann smiles.
"We are not, as you might think, trapped in Rebma like fish in a drylanders aquarium, unable to leave but for the stair. Much of the fish on your plates in the finer restaurants, and yes, Castle Amber itself comes not from the fishing fleets of Amber, although they are considerable in size, but from the harvesting of Rebmans. Some of our race can not only breathe water and other adaptations to life in the sea, but have ability to take other forms."

"And, even if we escape the vaguaries of heat waves, blizzards and all those nasty things which is the curse of you who choose to bear them, in Rebma, we have weather...but it is merely changes in water currents...like winds above. And they are minor, not the strong and terrifying currents and undertows felt near the surface of the water...perhaps, again, the Pattern's doing."

"Ah, yes the Pattern...deep in the heart of the Castle, beyond a door for which only the Royal Family has keys for, lies the one thing in Rebma which is deadly to almost all. It is nearly, Princess Amphitritina and Crown Prince Triton tell me, a double of the one in the basement of Castle Amber, although, I imagine, it is fairer to visit than a smelly, dark basement in a drylander castle. Only 4 of our people, in all our history, have been known to walk the Pattern and live--Prince Martin, Princess LLewella and her daughter Princess Amphitritina and of course the handsome Crown Prince, Triton."

And, of course, I should add." Adyrann smiles. "Prince Corwin, when he came here without his memory, and later his brother, your King, Random, when he tried to avenge Eric's foul deeds upon Corwin."

"In truth, we must concede, the Pattern, alas, is not ours, and but a copy of your own. It seems patently unfair that is not of us, and it would be death for me to walk upon it." Her hazel eyes glare. "But, life is said not to be fair."

"And so some men would claim, if they came here. For many of a drylander has come here, lured by the tales of the charming Rebman ladies, only to find that they are not as demure and weak as many of our drylander sisters." She smiles. "Our Queens have made it clear that women have a place in society greater than men, and it has been since time immemorial."

"And why not? Rebma is at peace, without strife. Even if we are the reflection or double of Amber, we have not had brothers fighting each other for the Coral Throne, imprisoning their parents in their schemes, luring invaders to the gates of the city in bids to win power for themselves. Queen Moire's mother, Hydrana, may Lir keep her soul, died peacefully in bed." "And even so, it has been cause of interest and alarm in some quarters, but further proof of the wisdom and knowledge of Moire, that she chose to bear a son as heir, not a daughter, for she has, as many Rebmans do, the power to will it so. So to call Rebma a man hating Matriarchy is a vicious and callous thing to say." Adryann smiles very warmly. "After all, do I look like a man hating shark?" She runs fingers through her hair.

"Perhaps our mode of dress is what causes men from above to think we are loose, and toys for them to possess against their will. But, friend from above, a day, or week in Rebma will show you the folly of wearing too many clothes for too long. Why be uncomfortable in water logged clothes?" Adyrann's hands gesticulate in the water around her. "So, trunks, and perhaps a shoulder pouch, and jewelry are all the clothes a Rebman generally needs. If drylanders think this licentious, well, I would hasten to point out that the customs of one group are not the laws of the universe, be they ours, or yours."

"We make the most of what we have...for example, to augment the magical lights and torches, Rebma extensively uses mirrors, in the Palace as well as in public and private buildings. And, it is true, to a degree, that a class of magic users can use them, but the mirrors themselves are not enchanted." She holds up a small lovely looking glass, bordered in silver. I am sure you have many questions, but, alas, I have a prior engagement to paint a new Trump of Princess Llewella. Your Trump Artists among you might be interested in how to paint underwater, let me suffice it to say that with the right pigments, it works remarkably well." She reaches to the side, and proffers a card toward you. You notice the back has a dolphin leaping out of the water.

"Give me a call sometime, and I will arrange a more personal tour of Rebma. There are the Gardens to show you, our cuisine to sample...the magical torches to see. I am sure you would enjoy it, and I am sure our Queen would want you presented to her at Court."

"May Lir guide you, and fare thee well."
The Trump call ends, with you holding a card. Turning it over, you see it is a Trump of Adryann, smiling and resting comfortably on a divan similar to the one she herself called you from. Not waiting for you to call, but likely would be pleased to receive one from you all the same.

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