He nodded thoughtfully. «Always knew what she wanted, did Althaea. I never said no to her back then.»

The girl smiled, and they started up the stairs.

«So you're her granddaughter, are you?»

«Great-great-granddaughter, actually.»

«Ah.»

He recognized the layout of the house, but nothing more. It was full of rich furnishings and expensive artwork. Too grand for his taste.

Althaea was in the master bedroom. It was painful for him to look at her. Two minutes ago she'd been a radiant seventeen-year-old a week from her wedding day.

«Almost made a hundred and twenty,» she said from her bed. Her chuckle became a thin cough.

He bent over and kissed her. Small black plastic patches were clinging to the side of her wrinkled neck. He could see the outline of more beneath her shawl.

«Still want to fight dragons for me?» she asked.

«'Fraid not. I was rather impressed by that great-great-granddaughter of yours.»

She laughed and waved him into a seat beside the bed. «You haven't changed. Mind you, you haven't had the time.»

«How's Mullen?»

«Oh, him. Been gone five years, now.»

«I'm sorry.»

«We had a century together. That's why I wanted to see you again. I wanted to thank you.»

«What for?»

«For doing what you did. For leaving us alone.» She tilted her head towards the open window. «I loved him, you know. All the time he was alive, and even now, a whole century of love. It was an excellent life, Eason, truly excellent. Oh, I wasn't a saint; I had my share of fooling around when I was younger, so did he. But we stayed together for a hundred years. How about that?»

«I'm glad.»

«I lied to you about the children. Remember the day after you arrived I said I wanted ten.»

«I remember.»

«Course you do; it's only been two months for you. Well, I only had eight.»

«That's a shame.»

«Yes. But, ah, what they achieved. Take a look.» She flicked a pale finger at the window. «Go on.»

So he did. And there was his dream waiting outside. The neat ordered ranks of fruit trees stretching right round the island, a fleet of tractors buzzing down the grassy avenues, and Edenist-style servitor chimps scampering through the branches in search of the bright globes. The red-clay rooftops of a small fishing village; boats bobbing at their moorings along the seven jetties. People walking and cycling everywhere. Adults and children setting up tables and parasols in the garden ready for a party. And, as ever, the firedrakes, noisy flocks of them spiralling and wheeling overhead.

«That's all thanks to you,» she said. «I don't know what would have happened if you'd stayed around. I was so torn. I loved Mullen for a century, but I kept the guilt, too.»

«It's beautiful,» he said.

«You can stay if you want. I'd like you to enjoy it.»

«No. My time here is over.»

«Ha! That's Mother talking.»

«She told you?»

«Oh yes. Mind you, I never told Mullen. It was too weird.»