She took his hand and they proceeded to wander around the square while casually keeping an eye on the time. Both of their minds were buzzing over what Leukos had just said, in different ways, but since Tromo would not speak neither of them could know this. They browsed disinterestedly through the market stalls, looking at fruit, clothing, even some toys like the ones Tromo had discovered at the Academy. “We’ll save up for one of those,” she said as he stared wide-eyed at the tradesman’s display of colourful, twirling spinning-tops. Life wasn’t so bad, she thought. With time, she might just be able to get used to living in this city. They worked their way slowly towards the centre of the square. This was convenient, because it put them right in the path of Zantheus.

“Anthē!” he shouted. She heard his voice clearly over the hubbub of the square, though she could have recognised it from miles away. His voice. She turned and he ran up to her and embraced her. This was unexpected.

“Zantheus, you came back!” said Anthē, stunned.

“Yes, I’m back. I’m so glad the two of you are safe!”

He released her and bent down to give Tromo his own hug. He was smiling. She had never seen him smiling so much before. But then he stood up and looked very serious.

“Where is Leukos?” he said in a very concerned tone.

“He just left us. He’s arranged to meet somebody in the square. He’ll be around here somewhere.”

“Come, we must find him.” All of a sudden Zantheus began walking off, his manner changed completely, his eyes scanning the crowds. Anthē and Tromo went after him.

“Zantheus,” said Anthē. “I wanted to say… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said yesterday when you left...”

But Zantheus wasn’t listening. He did not meet Anthē’s gaze, his eyes fixed on some distant point, a preoccupied look of agitation on his face.

“I understand if you’re angry with me. It’s fine. But at least say something. Do you accept my apology? How was your visit to the Sanctuary?”

The crowd was thick. Anthē kept bouncing off people and having to make her way back to Zantheus. It didn’t help that he was walking extremely fast. She began to call out to him. “Zantheus! Talk to me Zantheus!” But he paid her no attention. Tromo started to cry. Finally she managed to push through the crowd and grab him by the arm. “Zantheus!”

All of a sudden he snapped around to her with a question. “What is it?” He seemed to notice her again for the first time, and at the same moment he stopped dead in his tracks so that woman and child bumped into him. Anthē hesitated, there was no anger in his voice, only surprise. She tried apologising again.

“I’m-I am sorry about what happened yest—”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Zantheus, and he immediately set off through the throng again, dragging Anthē with him.

“But—”

“It does not matter now, Anthē! Leukos is in trouble.” He grabbed her hand to stop her from being buffeted away.

“Is he? Now? What’s wrong?”

“There’s no time to explain, just help me find him.”

“Is it the person hunting him? Is it about Enlightenment?”

Zantheus stopped dead in his tracks. “How do you know about that?”

“It’s a long story. I met a woman called Sophia. She told me about it.”

“Well, I don’t know who that is, but yes, he’s being tracked. We need to find him somehow. Ah, I know!” He took Tromo from her and lifted him onto his shoulders. “Tromo, look out for Leukos, alright?”

Just as he was about to start walking again, he received a light clap around the ear from the boy. “What is it?”

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Tromo pointed. There among the crowd, about twenty ammahs away, was Leukos, moving across their path. A look of extreme concern gripped his features –he looked as if he was in pursuit of somebody himself.

“Good boy, Tromo!” said Anthē. Zantheus gave him back to her, and they took off after Leukos. He was not difficult to follow; he was so set on getting to wherever he was going that he had left a slew of angry market-goers in his wake. All they had to do was follow the cries of “Hey!” and “Watch where you’re walking!”

“Leukos!” called Zantheus to him, desperate to get his attention.

“Leukos!” called Anthē.

“Leukos!” called Tromo.

Something was wrong. Suddenly, Zantheus spotted a man, dressed all in black, approaching Leukos through the crowd from the other direction. The man was going to catch him before they could.

He saw all of it and he was unable to stop any of it.

Leukos reached the person he had been chasing, a woman with blonde hair, and took hold of her arm, making her spin round to look at him.

“Leukos!” said Sophia.

Leukos looked at her as the blade slid out of his chest. For the last time, their eyes met. He coughed and some blood ran down his chin, but he held her gaze. His pen stopped moving.

“When I see you, I die,” said Leukos.

And then he was on the floor.

Anthē screamed, but she couldn’t hear herself because everything had slowed down and the world had stopped. Zantheus was shouting too, though she didn’t know how she knew this because she couldn’t hear him. He was on top of the assassin and was wrestling with him and hitting him over and over again. Around them the crowd was still hurrying by. She screamed at them to take notice, to help. But still they hurried by. Why weren’t they stopping?

Anthē heard herself half-saying, half-sobbing “Can’t you see? Can’t you see?” Apparently Tromo had wriggled free from her grasp, she found herself clutching her own torso. He was by Leukos, bent over next to his head where he lay on the ground. She joined him.

“Y-you...” Leukos was spluttering up at the woman, “you did this to me...”

“That’s not fair, Leukos,” said Sophia. “You did this to yourself. ‘This is just a picture, like everything else’, remember?”

“I... I thought you were more than a picture. I thought you were real.”

“I am real, but not how you have written me.”

Anthē stood up.

“You!” she echoed Leukos with bile. “This is all your fault! You said he would be safe! You said you were going to help him!”

“I have helped him,” said Sophia. “I was the one he was writing for, and now he has a way for his story to end.” She had tears in her eyes. She gestured towards Tromo. “Look after him. I will come back for him one day.”

With that, she turned and left. Still in shock, Anthē just watched her go.

“Anthē... he’s dying...” Zantheus was speaking. “Anthē, he’s dying...”

He had left the assassin close to death and was cradling Leukos in his arms. Anthē shook her head clear and returned to Leukos’ side.

“Don’t worry, Zantheus,” said Leukos. “Everything’s going to be alright. I’ve taken you this far and I’ve been with you every step of the way. I was with you even when it didn’t feel like it or you couldn’t see me. But I knew I had to die. Someone was always going to have to die. I saw it coming a long way off.”

“No, Leukos, don’t talk like that....” said Anthē. “You’re going to be alright. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“It is, it is, Anthē, but I have to... I have to leave you now. Listen to me. Tromo is a relative of Sophia’s. He doesn’t remember it, but he was born in Larakia. When his parents were killed, he became the heir to the Larakian throne. I was tasked with returning him to Qereth from Shul. Keep the boy safe. Someone will come back for him one day.”

“Leukos, you’ve stopped writing…” Anthē stared at his hand, incredulous.

“Anthē...” he choked. “I had to leave some time…” He turned his head with effort. “Zantheus... time... that’s what you’ve got to understand... When I picked you up and dropped you in to help...”

“Don’t talk!” said Zantheus. “You need your strength. You’re going to be alright, Leukos.”

“No, I’m dying, Zantheus,” said Leukos. “Listen to me. You know what you have to do. Take them to Krestotes, he’ll look after them. Then go back to the mountain one more time, today. Time, it’s only a matter of time, Zantheus.” Zantheus could only nod at these mad words. The poor boy was delirious. He was almost gone now.

Leukos adjusted his gaze one final time.

“Tromo...at least you’ll understand…Come here…”

The boy leaned in closer. Leukos whispered something in his ear. Then his head fell back down to the ground. He managed to say one more thing out loud.

“Tromo... I’m dying, Tromo... Show them it’s real and not just a story I tell myself to get to sleep...”

His last breath passed from his lips.