She seemed to like that. ‘Of course. Besides, because I spend a lot of time alone, I could do with the company. In my time, I’ve listened to a lot of men talk – and let me tell you, men do talk, if only to the right woman. You know my profession, so I get to peek into a lot of lives, see a lot of destruction – the amount of hidden secrets and lies that keep a partnership intact…’ She looked intently at a small metal clock and picked it up. ‘And, besides, I’m just making my living doing something I enjoy. If they didn’t come to me for their kicks, they’d only go elsewhere. I’m not the problem – just a symptom.’

‘No one suggested you were a problem,’ Jeryd observed bashfully.

She put the clock down, tucked a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. ‘Anyway, what I’m saying is I know quite a bit about relationships.’ She laughed to herself, some hidden irony perhaps. ‘Yet I myself have never held one together. But, I’d like to think I could help you. And your partner obviously had good tastes.’ She gazed at Jeryd intensely.

He looked away awkwardly.

‘Relax, investigator,’ she said, laughing. ‘I meant she liked quality antiques.’

‘I know that,’ Jeryd said, defensively.

‘You shouldn’t take things so seriously. You’re so full of melancholy. I think you work too hard. What would you do if you didn’t work?’

Jeryd frowned. ‘I’m not sure really.’

‘It’s scary for some people to think what they’d do if they didn’t have to work constantly. I think that’s why many do work so much: because they’re frightened of stopping.’

‘What’s all this got to do with helping me get Marysa back?’

‘Because you’ve probably put your work ahead of her most of the time when she needed care and attention. You didn’t listen to her enough. You didn’t make her feel special. You therefore never earned the right to be loved. I dare say you worked so hard because you didn’t feel comfortable loving her.’

‘Compliments corner, this,’ Jeryd muttered dryly.

‘It’s a reality check,’ she said. ‘I can tell by your face that I’ve hit a nerve.’

‘Maybe you have. Look, I’m meeting her tonight. What could I do to… seduce her?’

She proceeded to give him some advice at length.

It was as if the secrets of womankind were being revealed to him.

He even had to make notes.

‘So,’ he said, after being numbed into silence by her advice, ‘what should I get Marysa as a present?’

‘A good-quality antique, one that could also be thought of as a relic. It’ll arouse her curiosity, will mystify her, play on her mind. You must be on her mind always.’

‘Of course.’ Jeryd folded his arms, leaned back, playing it cool. Yes, he could appear confident, he could persuade Marysa to come back to him. This seducing business was clearly a breeze. ‘You’re pretty clued-up on all this stuff.’

‘I know.’ She seemed satisfied with the compliment.

Turning to what he was genuinely more confident about, Jeryd risked another attempt to dig for information, now that she was more at ease with him. ‘So how did you really get to know Delamonde Ghuda?’

‘You don’t ever ease up on the work front, do you?’ she said.

‘My lunch hour is over, I fear.’

‘I met him in a tavern, Rumex. That’s all. He’s just one more handsome man I went to bed with. A man I wanted to sleep with out of choice. Not a crime, is it?’

It should be, he thought, but then he didn’t really understand his personal feelings in this. As a rumel who was out of touch with the way the modern world worked, he often understood himself even less than he did others.

Dusk, and standing outside of the Bistro Júula. Jeryd stared up at the pterodette that had narrowly missed excreting on him. The little reptile flew up to perch on the roof, looking down at him.

‘Not on these robes, you won’t, my friend,’ Jeryd said confidently, empowered by the advice of another woman.

Antique present tucked under his arm, carefully wrapped. He wore fine silk robes, in black, over a white silk undershirt with matching handkerchief. The outfit had cost him nearly a Jamún. He had shaved with an expensive blade earlier on, too. Consequently the breeze felt chillingly fresh against his smooth cheek, despite his thick rumel skin. He had even – though he would never admit this to anyone else serving in the Inquisition – scented his white hair with fragrant oils.

I may stink like a tart’s dressing table, but every little helps.

He tried to remember everything Tuya had told him. He had reread his notes a dozen times, and it put him in mind of those Inquisition entrance exams, back in his youth.

Jeryd cast an eye at the nearby clock tower. She was bound to keep him waiting – she always did. He felt nervous, as if this was their first date. The sky was darkening fast, the tall buildings becoming even blacker against it. Birds and pterodettes arced hypnotically above the countless spires. Lanterns were being lit along the street, their coloured glow catching the limestone. Sandalwood incense wafted from one of the taverns further upwind. Maybe he was going soft, but he thought the scene rather romantic.

There she was, Marysa, walking slowly along the path to meet him, hips swinging slightly as she came up the hill, and his heart was beginning to race. She caught his eye as she came closer, then looked at the ground. For a moment neither of them said anything. Her elegant, black robe was slightly darker than her skin, with a coloured scarf wrapped around her neck. Her white hair was tied up with something that sparkled, no doubt some current fashion he wasn’t aware of, and the coloured make-up around her eyes opened up her face in new ways. Her tail swayed back and forth sinuously.

‘Hello,’ Jeryd gulped. ‘You look incredible.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘And I like your new robe.’

He hadn’t heard it for so long, that soothing voice. ‘Oh, this is for you,’ he forced himself to say, handing over the present. ‘Just a little something you might be interested in.’ He tried not to contain his eagerness as he urged, ‘Go on, open it.’

She unwrapped it quietly, and her face lit up. The gift was small, possibly some ancient navigational device, only a hand-span wide, with an intricate mechanism.

‘An antique,’ she said in awe. ‘Looks almost like a relic.’

Jeryd stood back, arms folded, feeling pleased with himself. ‘Should keep you busy for a few days trying to work out what it is.’

‘It’s really wonderful.’ She kissed him on the cheek, a gesture that could have meant anything, so he tried not to interpret it with wishful thinking.

‘Now, shall we?’ Jeryd indicated the nearby bistro.

After a deep initial awkwardness, the night went better than he could have imagined. He actually listened to her for the first time in years. Her main focus these days turned out to be ancient architectures – particularly newly discovered remains of the Azimuth Empire, undergoing restoration work here and there. She told him at length of the ancient Azimuth civilization: the great causeways now strewn under a hillside, the skeletal palaces submerged under marshes. Whilst she had been consorting with the archaeologists, bones of ancient creatures had been found, great mastodon ribcages unearthed near the coast, mammoth quidlo squids, human remains several armspans in length, even unknown beasts with three skulls. She gradually painted for Jeryd a vivid history of the Boreal Archipelago. Why had he never found her so fascinating before?

Gestures came and went, light touches to the wrist, a smile after meaningful words, catching each other’s eyes through the flame of the candle, every nuance so much more powerful, so much more lingering than before, as if the very fact of being apart had made them realize just how much they filled a gap in each other’s life.