‘Creon is half demon,’ I said. More than a few people gasped behind me. ‘I know all the same stories you do – I hated him as much as you do, at the start. Until he returned from one of his assignments on the brink of death and I realised – I finally understood – why no one ever screams under his knives. They don’t feel the pain. He is the one feeling it all, instead – the one who has felt it all for almost a century and a half.’ It had become impossible to separate the gasping from the urgent mutters behind me, the shock rippling across the galleries on either side of the hall. The corners of
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