Over the next few days, Prue, Agapantha and Edwin were keen to know what Craftsman Primrose had done about their note and what would happen, but they could glean nothing from his behaviour. He did seem preoccupied, but all of the craftsmen and masters were at the moment. The apprentices were working on some of the finer details of aesthetics with Rami Shad. The hundred personifates had filled up the huge open space of the design studio in orderly lines, and any final touches were being made.

Edwin had begun to approach discreet personifates who he thought may be open to finding out their first-life names. So Abel the garden mole became the next to discover that his original name was Maurice Montgomery. Prue thought it gave him an air of distinction, and she noticed he seemed to be rising up on his hind paws more and carrying himself with pride.

That evening, Prue lounged front-down on the parlour rug by the fire, writing a long letter home. Her thoughts were back on the farm, as the upcoming weekend was Sahwen. The only year they’d not celebrated Sahwen as a family was the previous one – the year when celebrating stopped. On their farm, the changing of the seasons was usually a big event. Francis and Prue would carve faces into the great pumpkins they grew in the north field, then they would place them around the house, lit by candlelight. Their parents made delicious pumpkin soup and pie, spiced with cinnamon; it tasted like autumn. In the evening the great orange faces burned brightly and the whole family danced around a scarebot, singing harvest songs together.

Agapantha sat crossed-legged beside Prue reading a note, and Edwin was on the other side with his face buried in a book on Ancient Mercia.

“My parents are in Medlock tomorrow,” Agapantha said.

“That’s good,” said Prue, not looking up from the letter she was writing.

There was a pause. “I’m going to meet them for dinner.”

“Nice,” Edwin said absently.

Agapantha cleared her throat a little.

Prue and Edwin both looked up at her.

“Spit it out, Ag,” said Edwin.

“Well, I wondered if, only if you’d like to, no pressure, but would you, maybe, like to come along and meet them?”

Prue smiled. “Of course – why wouldn’t we, you ninny!”

“Great!” she said sounding surprised, “I’ll send a note straight back.”

*

The Grand Principalia was the most exclusive hotel in Medlock.

“I feel massively underdressed,” said Prue.

“Imagine how I feel,” Edwin said, surveying the room of immaculately dressed people in plush dresses and suits.

They were greeted by an elegant white peacock. “Mrs and Mr Young are waiting for you, do follow me,” she said smoothly.

They followed the peacock past exotic palms and tables with smooth ivory tablecloths and silver cutlery. Crystal flutes sparkled beneath chaos lamps suspended from the high ceiling in glittering orbs.