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Something about Teddy's back gave Thales the impression he was thinking this over.

'Maybe,' he said at last.

'In which case, everything will be back to normal in a few hours, won't it?

Isn't that how these things work? I think I've read that that's how these things work.' Teddy was silent. 'So, if you came here to research, ah, anti-monster spells or something of the sort, perhaps that isn't the tack you need to be taking at the moment. Of course,' he went on when Teddy still didn't say anything, 'if it does turn out that you need a spell like that, then of course I'll help you find one.'

'Not if you're a monster too.'

'Well, but I seem to be a friendly monster, don't I? We're not all alike, any more than people are. That makes sense, doesn't it?' No response."There are even, you know, "hopeful monsters". Have you ever heard the phrase?'

Silence. 'It was coined by a famous biologist. He said that some aberrations that look grotesque to us are in fact changes that will lead the species in a better direction. So, if I am a monster, perhaps I am one of those. I'd like to think I would be.'

Teddy mulled this for a while. 'People who see things too,' he said finally.

'I beg your pardon?'

'People who see things,' said Teddy, a little more loudly. 'They're visionaries. Ahead of the rest of the human race.'

Frankly, Thales believed that people who saw things were just people who saw things. But he said, 'Yes.'

They sat there. In the little room, Teddy's breathing seemed very loud.

'Would you like me to call someone to come get you?'

'No.' Teddy shuffled around, taking care to remain curled up, and started to crawl away. 'I'm leaving.' He moved oddly down the hall, still crouched in a ball. 'I don't think I should look at you again. It might upset me.'

'Good idea. Shall I tell you when you're out of sight?'

'Yeah.'

'I can't see you any more now. That means you can't see me.'

Thales heard Teddy get to his feet. In another few seconds, the front door opened and shut. Thales quickly pressed the button by his desk that sprang the gate lock and kept his finger on it for a good two minutes. His hand was shaking.

He was almost afraid to face the mess Teddy had made breaking in, but to his relief it wasn't too bad. He'd have to have the glass replaced, but there was no structural damage. In the meantime, he pulled the shutters to and fastened them securely. Then he went to call the police.

Seeing Swan at Owl, red-faced and hysterical, Fitz hadn't realised what a knockout she was. Now, watching her as she reclined, wanly but gracefully, on the sofa in the large back room at Death's Door, he was finding his visit much less painful than he had anticipated. This was fortunate, since Swan was on a long-winded roll. They'd been there over an hour, and she'd deflected every question into a monologue on Teddy and his brilliance, ' so I think he won't take colour into his body in order to keep himself pure,'

Swan was saying in her usual monotone. 'To not corrupt the colours of his art.'

'The colours of his art are mostly puce and bile green,' said Anji. Fitz noticed she wasn't having the same reaction to Swan as he was. She was looking at her as if she had two heads. 'Any food that's those colours would be rotten enough to poison anyone. Surely he could eat something that was, say, pink. Like strawberry ice cream.'

Swan didn't appear to have heard this interruption. 'Genius has to be protected. He's too sensitive to work for a living. It would corrupt his art.

Fortunately, we were able to persuade the city's mental health department to give him disability payments, they're so stupid -'

'Or a bright cheerful yellow. Like a lemon.'

'- and he's gotten some art grants, but they're stupid too. They give money to people who don't have a tenth of his talent or daring or vision. Teddy is brave. He's not weak and sentimental: his art tells the truth. He's not afraid