Julian is at the river. A metallic strip of brightness runs the course, hemmed by ragged shadows. Michael’s words come back to him, the warmth of his hand on his cheek. ‘Now’s your chance. Take it.’ He stands on the bank looking down. The broad glassy sheen covers hidden currents. Jenna’s snake swims into his mind, her hand making the shape of its head rising up from the water, her long swaying wrist pointing it at him until he saw its eyes scintillating and heard its hiss. There’s not a cloud in the sky, the river shimmers with pearl and the concentric ripples of tiny insects, the sun beats the crown of his head. He finds his breath. The words are forming, writing themselves. He yanks his T-shirt straight over his head and rids himself of his trainers and jeans. He strides to the edge, the grass springy beneath his feet, and a sudden surge of energy sends him knifing into the water. He is powerful. His arms break open the river like wings through air. In the end is where he’ll find the beginning.
