A thud at the back of my mind shook me to the foundations of my soul. I found myself sitting straight up in the bed, eyes wide, wondering where the corpse had fallen.

There had to be a corpse, hadn't there?

I put my feet on the floor, groping for my glasses. I put them on with trembling hands and by the light of the dying candles I saw that there was nothing on the floor.

The thud came again. Someone was knocking at the door, and a voice was calling my name.

I ran my hands through my hair. Just a visitor. Just a suggestion in my mind. There were no corpses around and there was no reason for them to be. I took a shaking breath and went to the door. "Who is it?" I asked.

"Mr Edmund Folcwalding. I've come for the parcel."

I blinked. My curiosity was too strong. I turned the key and opened the door. "Who?! What parcel?"

In front of me stood a dark young man about my age, though it was hard to judge how old he was at a glance. He gave me a little angular smile and strolled inside the room as though he had been the master of the house. He glanced outside the curtains, then leaned against the window frame. "Always the jester, aren't you, Dr. Blayze? You may have changed your name but not your ways."

Was I really awake? I pinched my arm, sharply. I was. "I really think there is a mistake, sir. I know no Dr. Blayze. And I would appreciate if you let me go back to sleep."

Mr Folcwalding just kept smiling. He lowered his voice even more. "Is this a sort of test? Or have you indulged with some particularly nasty potion? Come on, man, don't waste my time and yours. It might come to a mutual benefit. Starting from now. I'll give you the £10 and you'll give me the parcel, and we'll be even."

Destitute as I was, the mention of £10 made me prick up my ears, but the man was beginning to unnerve me. It was not just his insistence: it was the nagging feeling that I was indeed supposed to know what he was talking about. I had stopped in that place, driven by a mysterious wish to uncover a secret: but right now all I wanted was to throw him out of my room and forget everything about it.

But hadn't I forgotten enough already?

"For the last time," I hissed, trying to keep calm, "I do not know what you are talking about. I am not Dr. Blayze and I have no parcel for you. See?" In a rash gesture I grabbed my bag and pulled out my spare clothes and some odds and ends. "There is nothing here!" I turned the bag upside down, and a tiny paper package which I had never seen fell on the floor.

Mr Folcwalding's smile just grew larger.

I sat heavily on the bed, staring at the small wrapped-up object. I never put it there, I tried to say, but my voice wouldn't come. What was happening to me?