“You know him, personally?” I asked.

“I knew him,” he said, “long ago, before his troubles. And I do not know whether to rejoice or despair in this. Recovered, he may be working for the greater good. Then again, his interests may be totally partisan.”

“Sorry I can’t enlighten you,” I said. “I find his actions cryptic, too.”

“I’m baffled also,” Mandor said, “by the disposition of the Eye. But it still sounds pretty much a local matter, involving Amber’s relations with Kashfa and Begma. I don’t see that there is anything to be gained at this point by speculation. It’s better keeping most of our attention for more pressing local matters.”

I felt myself sigh.

“Such as the succession?” I suggested. Mandor quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh, Lord Suhuy has briefed you already?”

“No,” I replied. “No, but I heard so much from my father of the succession in Amber, with all its cabals, intrigues, and double crosses, that I almost feel an authority on the subject. I imagine it could be that way here, too, among the Houses of Swayvill’s descendants, there being many more generations involved.”

“You have the right idea,” he said, “though I think the picture might be a bit more orderly here than it was there.”

“That’s something, anyway,” I said. “For me, I intend to pay my respects and get the hell out. Send me a postcard telling me how it gets settled.”

He laughed. He seldom laughs. I felt my wrist prickle where Frakir usually rides.

“He really doesn’t know,” he said, glancing at Suhuy.

“He’s just arrived,” Suhuy answered. “I hadn’t the time to tell him anything.”

I groped in my pocket, located a coin, withdrew it, and flipped it.

“Heads,” I announced, on inspection. “You tell me, Mandor. What’s going on?”