‘The war never came this far, did it?’ she asked Galltree, realizing, as she did, that her knowledge of Commonweal geography was almost entirely lacking.

‘No indeed,’ he replied, ‘but many of Prince Felipe’s people travelled to meet it.’

Then they were ascending the rise that led to the castle, and Tynisa began to appreciate what a bizarre folly the place truly was. The structure seemed to make do with half the walls of any other building – not that whole sides of it were open but, instead, great sections of its exterior, at various heights, had simply been omitted, allowing both sight and access into the building’s interior. Much that was there was strewn with green, a profusion of vines tumbling in a verdant mane from some manner of roof garden, and other gardens within, also, to merge seamlessly with the outside. There were inner walls, too, but they were no more complete than the outer, so that, looking into the heart of the castle, Tynisa experienced a feeling not unlike vertigo – finding her Lowlander sense of boundaries and borders constantly violated.

Gramo stopped abruptly, and for a moment she could not work out why. Only after a moment’s reflection did she guess that a few more steps would actually have brought them notion-ally within, a separate space whose limits were entirely invisible to her.

‘Do we… Is there a bell we ring?’ she asked.

‘We wait,’ Gramo advised. ‘You must realize, the Commonwealers do not have that sense of urgency you may recall from Collegium.’

She could see people further within, who she guessed were servants busy about the tasks of maintaining the place, but none of them seemed to see her. The unseen walls of this place evidently blocked her from their notice.