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moment, Sir Darius
continued. 'Craddock's view is that the device had the
hallmarks of Holmland magic.'
    Aubrey nodded. 'Clever. There are plenty of Gallians
who still don't like us. Losing their airship over Albion
would let them blame us for its loss. It would give them
reason to abandon our alliance, which is just what
Holmland wants.'
    'Quite. The Gallian airman said that the dirigible left
from the St Martin airfield on the north of Lutetia after
the usual checks and inspections. He was mortified to
hear about the device.'
    'And while I'm in Gallia, you'd like me to see what
I can find?'
    'Unofficially, of course.' Sir Darius tugged at an earlobe,
frowning. 'Our overseas Magisterium operatives are
investigating, but I fear that their minds are too literal,
and their chiefs are too concerned with settling scores
within the Special Services overseas branch. I need someone
independent.'
    'I'd be happy to do it.' This was more to Aubrey's liking.
His father was trusting him, explicitly, with a mission.
    'Don't be so hasty. I've only told you part of the issue.'
Sir Darius rubbed his hands together. 'Despite our public
pronouncements, Gallia is in some turmoil. The alliance
with Albion is being questioned within the Giraud
government, fears about Holmland aggression are
growing, and – just to make matters worse – there is a
movement afoot in the Gallian province of Marchmaine
to secede and form its own nation.' He scowled. 'They
could have chosen a better time for such a thing.'
    Aubrey pictured the map of the Continent.
Marchmaine was directly across the channel from Albion.
Rich and fertile, it stretched across the entire north of
Gallia, sitting like a flat cap on top of the country. A fit
hiker could land a boat on the shore of the channel and
walk right across the gently rolling countryside until he
reached the border of –
    'Holmland,' Aubrey said. 'You think it's encouraging
this movement.'
    'Indeed. If Marchmaine becomes independent, it
would have no alliance with Albion. And if one were
particularly suspicious, one could imagine that the entire
secessionist movement was a plot by Holmland to install
pro-Holmland leaders in this new state, with the effect of
providing Holmland with direct access to the channel.'
    'And an easy crossing point for invading Albion. If it
comes to war.'
    'Quite.'
    Aubrey and his father shared a look that said they both
knew war was inevitable, that they wished it weren't so,
and that they didn't want to mention it out loud just in
case this made it happen – even though they both knew
such superstitions were childish.
    'Of course,' Sir Darius said, 'I don't have to tell you
how stiff-necked the Gallians can get.'
    'Ah. So that means that you'd like me to find the
dirigible saboteurs and uncover the Holmland plot to
instigate a sovereign state in Marchmaine, all without
letting the Gallian authorities know what I'm up to?'
    'More or less.'
    'Delighted.'
    His father held up a finger. 'One thing. Is George
going with you?'
    'Yes.'
    'Good, good. I was going to insist that he go along. He
seems to be useful for tempering some of your excesses.
You can apprise him of the matters I've told you.'

    W HEN HE LEFT THE CONSERVATORY , A UBREY FOUND IT HARD to stop smiling. The confidence his father showed was
gratifying. Of course, combining this mission with
requests from his mother, his grandmother and the heir
to the throne was going to be a challenge, but Aubrey
saw challenges as most people saw stepping stones – a
way to get somewhere.
    His smile fell from his face. He remembered his own,
personal reason for journeying to Lutetia. His research
into finding a solution for his unstable state had reached
an impasse. He'd scoured libraries, corresponded with
scholars (always in guarded, hypothetical terms) and conducted
careful experiments testing new applications of
magical laws, but nothing had yielded a complete remedy.
    It was unsatisfactory, especially since he had the
impression that his