Alice’s field of view began to rotate, as though she were being turned in place. Something huge came into sight, and soon it filled the world. It looked a bit like a fanciful drawing she’d once seen of a comet – a blazing fireball, trailing a long glowing tail – except that the tail continued on and on, into the indefinite distance, and the fire was a brilliant blue.

It seemed to be coming directly at her, or she was moving towards it, and Alice’s breath caught in her throat. It seemed almost close enough to touch, but she felt no heat. She felt nothing, in fact; as far as her body was concerned, she was still sitting in the room full of pillows with Geryon.

‘What am I looking at?’ Alice said, when she found her voice again.

‘Yourself,’ Geryon said. ‘Or the magical representation thereof. Your essence. Your soul, if you like, though I wouldn’t read too much into the religious side of things. What we see here is very much shaped by our preconceptions, so one shouldn’t leap to draw any deep conclusions.’

‘My . . .’ Alice swallowed hard.

‘What I would like you to do is look back, along the tail. There’s something wrapping round and round – do you see it?’

It took her a few moments.

‘I see it,’ she said. ‘A little silver thread.’

‘This part is a little tricky.’ He must have felt her tense, because he quickly added, ‘It doesn’t hurt, though. I want you to reach out and grab it.’

Alice nodded gamely, but when she released her grip on Geryon’s wrists, he held her arms tightly. ‘Not,’ he said, ‘with your hands.’

She opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. Instead she focused on the little thread, staring intently, trying to will it closer to her, or herself closer to it. She was surprised to find that she could reach out, extending herself in some dimension completely unlike the usual three. Her grip closed around the thread, and she could feel the tension shivering through it in her mind. It was like holding a fishing line with something jerking about at the far end.

‘You’ve got it.’ Geryon sounded satisfied. ‘I should have known you would be a quick study. Now, hold onto it, and I’ll let go of your eyes.’

Something flowed out of Alice, down from inside her skull and out between her lips like a whispered breath. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes again the brilliant comet and the starlit night were gone. There was only Geryon, shadowy in the gaslight, still holding her wrists and smiling under his whiskers.

‘Still got that thread?’ he said.

Alice nodded. It tingled in her mind, a phantom limb holding a phantom line.

Geryon let go of her wrists and sat back. ‘Try giving it a little tug. Pull it towards here, towards the world. Just a touch.’