Rickard laughed at her. Wiggling the knife at her, he swayed along with it, as though caught in a slow dance. “I thought it might take a little more to get a rise out of you.”

Imogen gnawed on the rag as if it was a tough piece of meat. She pushed it free with her tongue, spitting and retching. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

Rickard allowed his earlier threat to drop. He would get more out of her if she could talk. “I want you to see me.”

“I see you. You’re a maniac; that’s what I see!”

“I need you to look deeper than that, Imogen.”

She wrenched at the cuffs again, the metal crossbar digging into flesh and wood with equal ferocity. The support post creaked ominously and dust and old shingles sifted down, pitter-pattering in the water. Rickard pounced, grabbing her chin in his left hand and guiding the blade very close to her eyes with the other. “Stop that. Stop struggling or I’ll blind you.”

Imogen went very still, but there was something in her posture that made Rickard step back. Imogen nodded at the knife. “You do that, you pig. But how will I see you then?”

Rickard stared at her. His breath came heavy, in time with the lapping tide. He allowed the blade to drop by his side. He took another step back, his heels very close to the edge of the walkway.

“Tell me, Imogen. Tell me and maybe I’ll let you live.”

She shook her head. “You’re going to kill me whatever I say.”

He folded the blade away and slipped the holder into the pouch on his belt. He showed her his empty hands. “You have my word.”

“That maybe I’ll live?”

“I can’t offer more. Satisfy my curiosity, Imogen. Tell me the truth and I will consider what happens next.”

Rickard watched her. He saw the machinations of hope and denial and mistrust make war in her mind. Hope seemed the stronger emotion.

“What am I supposed to see in you?”

“My true essence,” Rickard said.

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes and she shook her head slowly. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The serpent,” Rickard said.

Imogen nodded slowly, peering into his eyes. The tears rolled down her cheeks and she blinked quickly to clear her vision. “Yes. I see it.”

Rickard smiled.

“I see it in you. A great big snake. Its forked tongue flicking in and out.”

Rickard’s smile froze. Then melted away.

“Liar.”

“No. I’m not lying!” Imogen pushed herself upright against the post, worming her shoulders around so she was less constricted. “I can see it like a superimposed shadow towering over you.”