She was still under forty and was an attractive woman, well dressed and with a misleadingly affable demeanor. I knew vaguely of her powers of memory manipulation but had never considered for one moment that she might have tried any of it on me—or indeed was still doing it to anyone. Which made it even stranger that she was in my front room.

“I was looking for my contact lenses,” she said in a friendly tone. “Would you have a look? Your eyesight’s better than mine.”

“Sure,” I said, then stopped and frowned. “What were you doing in here?”

She leaned closer. “I need to talk to you about my elder sister, Phlegethon,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “She’s completely out of control. Remember that incident this morning, when someone tried to kidnap Jenny?”

“When?’

“You remember . . . this morning.”

“I . . . no, yes, wait—that was her in the blue car?”

“She wants vengeance because you killed her brother. You saw her face clearly, didn’t you?”

I stared at her, my temples throbbing.

“Didn’t you?” she asked, this time louder.

“Yes, I saw her face clearly,” I said slowly. “I’d know her anywhere. But why would she wait eighteen years for revenge?”

“She dithers. It used to drive Mum nuts. But the thing is, she’s dangerous. Really dangerous. So dangerous you might have to shoot her dead on sight.”

“I thought Phlegethon was your brother?”

“He changes sex as the mood takes her. But you remember what she said she’d do to Jenny? Can you really let someone like that live?”

“Are you sure it was this morning?” I asked, trying to recall the events. For a fleeting moment, the attempted kidnap had been clear, but now I was having trouble figuring out even where it happened, and it might have been a black car, not a blue one. My doubt had a visible effect on Aornis, who suddenly looked worried, stopped, and glanced around.

“Where’s Landen?”

“Conducting a recallathon.”

“A what?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “The word just popped into my head.”

We heard the front door open and Tuesday say,“Can I help you?”

“Remember,” said Aornis, “Phlegethon is dangerous. You can’t let him live.”

“Her.”

“What?”

“Her. You said Phlegethon was a woman at the moment.”

“Silly me,” she said. “See how confusing it can be? But she’s dangerous, and you know what she looks like, and she should be shot on sight. Now I must find my contact lens.”

And with a cheery smile, she ducked behind the sofa again, leaving me standing in the middle of the large room.