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As I scrubbed days of sleep off me, I remembered being naked in another room. I remembered the inviting warmth of sarx on my skin, the strong hands smoothing up my back. Before I could stop myself, I was picturing golden eyes, smouldering like coals in thedark. I was remembering the exact pattern of his scars, the contours of his body against mine.

It was an amaurotic notion that the heart was the seat of the self. The dreamscape was the home of the spirit – the heart was just a muscle, a clock – but my chest hurt when I thought of him.

My heart had beat like wings that night. He had shown me that my body was a gift, as much as my untethered spirit. Two days later, he had claimed it was all an act, to win my trust.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. Once I was dry and dressed, I locked gazes with my reflection. No one could ever know what I had done with him that night.

Just before I turned away, I noticed a few new scars on my face, small and faint, peppered across my brow and one cheek. From experience, I knew what they were – the marks left by exploding glass – but I had no explanation. Maria waited on a terrace, where a pot of coffee gleamed, set out with chopped fruit, a jug of milk, and glazed pastries with honey and butter. The sun burned in a sky so blue it almost hurt. In London, it was rare for it to be quite this warm or bright in September.

Pink roses twined around the balustrade. I went to it and narrowed my eyes against the light. Beyond were the picturesque rooftops of Prague: cast iron and glass, green copper domes, spires needling up from a sea of cinnamon tiles, all giving way to hills in the distance.

‘I’ve heard it called the Golden City,’ Maria said. ‘It’s like something out of a fairy tale.’

‘You could let yourself think Scion didn’t exist here.’

‘That’s what I find so disturbing. I understand now why the free world has done so little to help us. If I close my eyes for long enough, I feel I could forget Scion was even real.’

She poured us both a coffee. When I sat in the other chair, she pushed the pastries towards me.

‘This district is called Malá Strana,’ she said, slicing into a loaf of crusty bread. ‘I’d like to settle here once we’ve defeated Scion. I’ve never been somewhere that felt more like home.’

‘It is beautiful.’ I picked up a steaming cup. ‘You wouldn’t want to go back to Bulgaria, then.’

‘I have nothing left there.’ She stared into the distance. ‘I found out that my father was detained for making alcohol, and died of a stroke in prison. He was the last of my family.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s all right, sweet.’

From what little Maria had told me, her relationship with her father had been strained. She had only been able to live on her own terms after she marched to war against Scion.

‘Tell me about Bulgaria,’ I said. ‘How did you end up here?’

Maria tucked her legs into her chair.

‘As you will recall,’ she said, ‘Nick and I were forced to work for Domino to save your life. I was happy to do it, but I made it clear that I meant to return to London. Domino wanted me to carry out a single assignment, for which they believed I had relevant knowledge, in Scion East.’

Scion East was the collective name for the five Scion territories that lay east of France, including Cyprus, which functioned as a naval and air support base.

‘The Third Inquisitorial Division usually guards that region,’ Maria said, ‘but many of its soldiers were transferred to the invasion force for Operation Madrigal, so the time was ripe for troublemaking. I was asked to liberate a Greek agent known as Kostas, who had valuable intelligence. He was in the Chakalnya, a fortress in the Balkan Mountains, where I was once imprisoned.

‘I was authorised to recruit my own team of associates to help. I decided to go looking for the people I remembered from the Chakalnya, who knew its layout and workings,’ she said. ‘Many were dead, but I found three women – Nuray, Teodora and Carmen – who had survived their sentences. Together, we formed sub-network Plashilo and prepared to breach the prison. We were under strict instructions not to free anyone but Kostas.’

‘I think I can see where this is going,’ I said.

‘Yes. We freed him,’ she said, ‘and then decided to celebrate by saving the rest of the prisoners.’

‘And then you burned it down?’

‘And then I burned it down.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘My supervisor blew a fuse. They were about to wipe my memories when a Czech organiser named Radomír intervened. He needed someone with my knowledge to teach agents how to infiltrate and survive Scion.’

‘And you agreed?’

‘I agreed to serve the rest of my fixed contract – another six months – on the condition that he put me back in touch with you and Nick, and that I could keep my memories. I arrived here in May to work as an instructor at the Libuše Institute of Prague, where Domino trains new recruits. Radomír, true to his word, arranged a meeting with Nick. He’s also paying me, which is nice. I’ve saved most of the money to help the Mime Order.’

‘So you’re still an agent.’

‘I am technically an associate, despite the salary. Too reckless and insubordinate to be an agent.’ Maria propped her temple with her knuckles. ‘Your turn. What’s the last thing you remember?’