"No," I giggled. "No, no. He wasn't paying any attention to me and didn't even blink when she told him to come with her, it was unbelievable." I held both my hands up, palms outwards to emphasise my point. "You should have seen the look on her face-"

"She was giving you the evil eye?"

"Ha! No!" I lightly slapped his shoulder.

His eyes were bright as he swatted at my hand, a crooked grin on his lips. "Oh come on," he said and laughed, and it was a deep, resonating sound. "The boy was besotted with you and it was clear she was this close," his finger and thumb showed me just how close, "To thumping him. You should see the disappointment when he comes in and finds you're not here. The kid is heartbroken."

I shook my head and laughed with him. It was these precious moments that I treasured the most. I sat cross-legged on the bed next to him, my bare feet tucked under the soft folds of a long deep-orange dress. All around me were several open books, many pages marked with scraps of paper that had scribbled notes and calculations on them. We relaxed– as we sometimes did after an intense time working with the new drugs and medical techniques I'd discovered in Shadow– by playing cards.

On this particular occasion, we were also discussing the chambermaid and page boy who served him, both of whom happened to be in my uncle's rooms when I came to him hours earlier. I knew the girl was infatuated with my uncle, but I also sensed an innocent chemistry between her and the page boy. They had no more than eighteen years each and it was fascinating to observe their behaviour when they didn't think we noticed. Even more interesting to watch the change in their behaviour when they knew we were watching. Clearly they were trying to impress us, but both were riled when the other was doing so.

I gave my uncle a wry smile. "What about her? I've never seen a girl look so dreamy when you look at her. She's totally smitten!" But as I talked, his head fell back on the pillow and his face turned extremely pale, stark against the dark sheets and black silk nightshirt.

"Corwin?" I assumed he didn't hear me; his eyes were drifting closed. But he was not asleep.

This was the way of it towards the end. His condition worsened despite my efforts to heal him. Not only was he physically weakened by the illness, but his mind was frequently elsewhere, turned from this word and looking upon another place. These strange episodes came over him more frequently, the symptoms like those of autism. We would be talking, or I administering a new found medicine, and his eyes would begin to glaze over, his mind adrift. During those moments, his body was unresponsive to my touch. The sound of my voice did not reach him.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to hold back the tears. The cards fluttered from my fingers as my hands dropped into my lap. I craved closeness with him, but ever since his collapse at the edge of the Abyss I found it difficult to feel his emotional state. Something blocked me. A barrier sealed all but his immediate feelings from me. Normally, I have an impression of a person's strong emotions, like a background hum or white noise, and these become more defined when I'm physically in contact with the person; I can read their desires, even when they try to suppress them. But with Corwin, I could not do so.

After our return to Amber I had hoped to figure out what blocked me without too much effort or discomfort for him, but the barrier had solidified further and frustrated my subtle attempts to decipher its purpose. I did speak to Corwin about it, once he and Dara calmed the Storms around Amber, but he was so busy. I remembered the touch of his hand as he brushed my hair back behind my ear. Then his gentle kiss on my cheek and whispered words of reassurance, telling me not to worry. So I hadn't.

Then he sickened. And my concern returned with undeniable intensity.

We discussed both the block in his mind and his ailment and I was absolutely sure the barrier was connected to his failing health, but all of my investigations were fruitless; I had no idea who or what had placed it in his mind, let alone why. I wanted to find a way to removed it but the barrier was so strong it required a deep probe of his mind for me to figure it out. He was understandably reluctant to let me root around in his thoughts.

Though never entirely forgetting about the barrier, I focused my efforts on his illness and continued to treat him with all the medicines I could find in Shadow. But his condition deteriorated. At one stage he theorised that heavy usage of the Jewel had drained his body beyond his ability to recover, but I did not sense any link to it anymore. I didn't think the Jewel was the cause of his continued decline in health, but I honestly had no idea of what was responsible. I was at a loss, but I refused to give up.

Sitting beside him on the bed I wondered again if deciphering the nature of the barrier might reveal more of the source of his illness. I wanted him well again so much...

"Corwin?" My voice trembled. I sucked in a breath and swallowed past a fast growing lump in my throat. "I swear-" but I couldn't go on.

When I could speak again it was in a strangled whisper. "I promise... I will do everything I can to help you. I will find out what's happened to you, and I will find a cure." Please don't leave me! I can't live without you...

Opening my eyes I was surprised to find him looking at me.

"You will," he said faintly, but there was a greater quality about his voice, it was not the faded shadow it had been all morning– the old Corwin had returned for a brief time.

Tears pooled in my eyes. I can't lose you! "I won't give up. Ever." My hands fisted, punching into the mattress to emphasise my commitment to him. I'd let him down once, I would not do so again.

"I know you will not," he said, focusing on me with an intensity I hadn't seen for a long time. "Trials I have had many of in my life, this is just one more I will overcome." He gave me a quirky smile and started to push himself upright, struggling and then grumbling, as usual, when I leaned over to help him. Only this time he didn't push my hands away. "You better deal again," his voice was strained and I knew he was in some pain.

"Huh?" Confused and distracted by his condition, I nevertheless glanced down. Our cards had dropped with several face up and I saw he had two queens. With a numb slowness I sat back and started to gather then shuffle the deck. The only sound was the wind surging past the window. It had stopped raining at some point, perhaps even that day. A quick glance showed me grey clouds dragging across a darkening sky. Night and day– they'd blended into one and I realised I hardly noticed the passing of time anymore.

I knew I was missing something. I started to deal, absently giving us one card each, unaware how many I'd placed in two piles on the bed. Frustration brought the tears back and I wiped at them angrily with one hand. "You shouldn't see me like this! I'm supposed to be curing you of whatever this ailment is, but instead I'm failing you! I just need to search deeper-" I cut off, realising where my thoughts had gone again.

Corwin took the rest of the cards from me and put them aside. He took my hands in his and squeezed gently, urging me to look at him. "You don't need to hide your emotions from me, Akira. I know how serious this situation is. I can feel my body weakening and it infuriates me more than you know." He fell silent and a frown darkened his brow.

After what seemed a long time, he spoke. "Try it, now," he said.

"What?"

"Go on. You have pestered me for months. Just get it over with quickly." His features hardened but his eyes were kind. "Tell me what you find in there....I might learn something." Then he chuckled, but his body couldn't sustain it and the sound died too quickly.

When I hesitated, his grip tightened and his eyes held my gaze.

This was a difficult thing for him to do and though I was relieved to finally have the chance to investigate more fully what blocked my empathic abilities, for him to open to me meant his concern for his health was far greater than he let on. My tears fell freely.

I nodded slowly and struggled to control myself. "Okay." I heard much nervousness in my voice. Suddenly I was tense. He was letting me into his thoughts. "Just a quick scan for now," I said a little shakily, "and then you need to rest."

I reached into his mind with a tenderness I hoped would ease his fears.