“You are not paying attention. Why we are resting the ambitions of the Diberi on you, I have no idea. You are a stupid, vain, pathetic little man. . . .”

“I don’t mind if you’re horrible to me,” said Terrence. “I don’t even mind if you slap me. But could you just give me a little . . .”

“A little what?”

“Kiss.” The word came out like a tiny squeak.

“I will kiss you afterward,” she said. “As a reward. Once our mission is complete. And, it should go without saying, only if our mission is successful.”

“All right,” said Terrence. “You’d better tell me again exactly what you want me to do.”

“You need to understand the concept of pedesis,” said Lady Tchainsaw, picking up the book by Thomas Lumas. “And you need to practice.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” said Terrence. “Remind me what pedesis is again?”

“Oh, you dim man. It’s when you enter someone’s consciousness and then travel through time by surfing on a great wave of their ancestors. Have you not been paying attention? The subject was dealt with most thoroughly in that novel I gave you.”

Novel? Oh yes. Terrence had forgotten to read it. Well, not forgotten exactly. He despised novels written by anyone other than himself and as a consequence had never read any contemporary fiction. Books written by dead people were all right in theory, but they were often long and boring and full of unnecessarily detailed descriptions of the past, with all the computers and satellites and cheap heating. He’d given up on this one by about page four.

“But in any case,” Lady Tchainsaw was saying, “all you need to do this time is enter the mind of Effie Truelove and find out how she goes to the Otherworld.”

Terrence imagined himself opening a sort of lid into Effie’s brain and climbing in. Wouldn’t she notice?

“But how—”

“It is your consciousness that travels,” said Lady Tchainsaw. “Your body stays behind. I will follow you to the girl’s house. You must kidnap her and bring her to me. We will get her here, and then I will look after your body while your mind travels. We will give her a reason to go to the Otherworld, and you will follow her.”

Look after his body? Could that involve kissing? But of course if Terrence’s mind was elsewhere he wouldn’t know anything about it.

“Right,” he said. “And then what?”

“You may have to use your consciousness to affect her. Like mages do. You will need some serious practice. I have an awful feeling you will need more practice than you’re actually going to do, but it’s too late to change the plan now.”

“I am a mage,” said Terrence dreamily. “Dear Skylurian—I don’t believe you met—diagnosed me, and—”