“I’m not going to spy on my friends!”

Edward sighed and looked out the window. The drive beyond the gatehouse curved through freshly mown fields, the hay already gathered into hillocks ready to be pitchforked into carts and taken to the stacks. Past the fields, the chimneys of a large country house peered above the fringe of old oaks that lined the drive.

“I’m not going to be a spy, Uncle,” repeated Nicholas.

“I haven’t asked you to be one,” said Edward as he looked back at his nephew. Nicholas’s face had paled, and he was clutching his chest. Whatever had happened to him in the Old Kingdom had left him in a very run-down state, and he was still recovering. Though the Ancelstierran doctors had found no external signs of significant injury, his X-rays had come out strangely fogged and all the medical reports said Nick was in the same sort of shape as a man who had suffered serious wounds in battle.

“All I want you to do is to spend the weekend here with some of the Department’s technical people,” continued Edward. “Answer their questions about your experiences in the Old Kingdom, that sort of thing. I doubt anything will come of it, and as you know, I strictly adhere to the wisdom of my predecessors, which is to leave the place alone. But that said, they haven’t exactly left us alone over the past twenty years. Dorrance has always had a bit of a bee in his bonnet about the Old Kingdom, greatly exacerbated by the . . . mmm . . . event at Forwin Mill. It is possible that he might discover something useful from talking to you. So if you answer his questions, you shall have your Perimeter pass on Monday morning. If you’re still set on going, that is.”

“I’ll cross the Wall,” said Nick forcefully. “One way or another.”

“Then I suggest it be my way. You know, your father wanted to be a painter when he was your age. He had talent too, according to old Menree. But our parents wouldn’t hear of it. A grave error, I think. Not that he hasn’t been a useful politician, and a great help to me. But his heart is elsewhere, and it is not possible to achieve greatness without a whole heart.”

“So all I have to do is answer questions?”

Edward sighed the sigh of an older and wiser man talking to a younger, inattentive, and impatient relative.

“Well, you will have to appear a little bit at the party. Dinner and so forth. Croquet perhaps, or a row on the lake. Misdirection, as I said.”

Nicholas took Edward’s hand and shook it firmly.

“You are a splendid uncle, Uncle.”

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled,” said Edward. He glanced out the window. They were past the oak trees now, gravel crunching beneath the wheels as the car rolled up the drive to the front steps of the six-columned entrance. “We’ll drop you off, then, and I’ll see you Monday.”