“Offhand then,” said Random, moving back, “I would say that his work leaves something to be desired.” He gestured at the dark area. “Which is understandable, if he is this friendly to anyone who doesn’t eat oats and whinny.”

“My guess is that he is quite selective. It is also possible that he was set here after the damage was done, to defend against further unappreciated activity.”

“Who set him?”

“I’d like to know myself. Someone on our side, apparently.”

“You can now test your theory further by letting Ganelon approach him.”

Ganelon did not move.

“It may be you have a family smell about you,” he finally said, “and he only favors Amberites. So I will pass, thank you.”

“All right. It is not that important. Your guesses have been good so far. How do you interpret events?”

“Of the two factions out for the throne,” he said, “that composed of Brand, Fiona, and Bleys was, as you said, more aware of the nature of the forces that play about Amber. Brand did not supply you with particulars — unless you omitted some incidents he might have related — but my guess is that this damage to the Pattern represents the means by which their allies gained access to your realm. One or more of them did that damage, which provided the dark route. If the watchdog here responds to a family smell or some other identifying information you all possess, then he could actually have been here all along and not seen fit to move against the despoilers.”

“Possibly,” Random observed. “Any idea how it was accomplished?”

“Perhaps,” he replied. “I will let you demonstrate it for me, if you are willing.”

“What does it involve?”

“Come this way,” he said, turning and heading over to the edge of the Pattern.

I followed him. Random did the same. The watchgriffin slunk at my side. Ganelon turned and extended his hand.

“Corwin, may I trouble you for that dagger I fetched us?”