The barber-surgeon did not move. And Milva suddenly saw what she ought to have seen long before: Regis did not cast a shadow. “Indeed,” he said slowly. “You don’t know what I am. And it’s time you did. My name is Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy. I have lived on this earth for four hundred and twenty-eight years according to your reckoning, or six hundred and forty-two years by the elven calendar. I’m the descendant of survivors, unfortunate beings imprisoned here after the cataclysm you call the Conjunction of the Spheres.
