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Summary
Three years after he's forced to witness Jim's suicide, Sebastian is still trying to fit the remaining pieces of himself back together. January finds him settled in a deep, remote stretch of Dartmoor where tourists rarely venture. With hundreds of empty miles to explore, a wild geology dappled with wetlands and tors, prehistoric ruins, and places of myth and legend- this is as far from the bone-deep ache of London as he's capable of. Seb is under no delusions that things will get better with time; they never do. But they can get different, and that's just about bearable.
These days, it feels less like Jim is standing on a rock hurtling through space on a constant trajectory, and more like he’s falling headlong towards the edge of the universe. Untethered by anything; unsure of how to calculate the moment-to-moment physics of life. There’s a thought caught up in the spiderweb of scar tissue at the back of his head, present from the moment he woke; Sebastian Moran is not important. Why, then, does he know so much about the man? Why does Jim alternate between waking up screaming with how much he hates him, and feeling hollowed out by what feels like a Sebastian-shaped hole?