‘The only people that knew where I’d fallen were Leviathan, and they …’ Through the flashes of lightning and the biting rain Jamie could feel something else, a memory of being carried, the weight of another human, strong and tall, accompanied by soft murmurs making sure he was OK, with all the care and worry of a parent doting over a child.

‘What is the matter?’ Haru asked.

‘Nothing, my brain is just getting confused. Making stuff up to save me from the trauma, I assume.’

Even as he said this, though, he relived the sensation of being carried, and the smell caught in his nose, nearly overpowering him. It was the scent of spiced wine and burning.

When he looked back to Haru, the sky behind him was red over the dense wall of trees. The sun was so low on the horizon it stretched their shadows, and the distended forms twisted and pulled until they morphed into demonic reflections in the space below their feet.

‘Tell me about your parents,’ Haru said, his voice soft and hypnotizing.

‘I don’t know them; the Wolfsons are my family,’ Jamie replied, listening to Haru’s steady breathing beside him like a swinging pendulum.

A smile that almost looked like a private joke spread over Haru’s lips, and Jamie had the strangest desire to touch them, like they might tell him everything he wanted to know and fix what was broken.

‘What about your mother? What do you know about her?’

‘My mother?’

Jamie was confused. Why was Haru bringing up his mother? He knew he should get up and walk away, that he should kill this conversation dead before it could do any harm, but the way Haru looked at him instilled a sense of trust in Jamie that he had never felt before. The words spilled out of him, bringing her to life after years of keeping her locked away.

‘Her name was Hirana.’ He felt her name on his lips like a prayer, awakening something deep inside him. ‘She was an immigrant from Pakistan; she worked at the palace in Maradova for a while. In the gardens, I think.’

‘Aren’t you ever curious about your heritage?’ Haru pondered, his heavy eyelashes fluttering and coaxing him to keep uncovering these things he usually buried. ‘Perhaps you could use your sabbatical to visit her home country?’

‘Haru, I’ve told you – I’m never taking a sabbatical,’ Jamie grumbled, whatever spell he was under breaking as the last of the sunlight slipped beyond the horizon.

‘I’m sorry,’ Haru said earnestly, placing his hand dangerously close to Jamie’s. ‘I only find it confusing that your princess and her family do not encourage you to explore your, how to say this –’ he paused, tapping his fingers in thought, one of them brushing very softly against Jamie’s hand – ‘your personal identity. Sorry if I am misunderstanding.’