It was palm-sized, blush pink, and faintly heart-shaped, with a little tuck at the bottom like a dimple. I raised it to my nose to test the aroma.
‘Nara fruit?’ I looked at Pense. ‘Where did you get this?’
He gestured behind himself. A wide bench was covered in further specimens of the fruit, each one slightly different in shape. A Lokant man was attendant over it, though he did not appear to be dissecting these. If anything, he was…
‘Is he building that one?’ I asked, aghast.
‘That is what it looks like to me, also,’ Pense agreed.
The man had a nara before him, about half complete. As I watched, he built up the outer shell of the fruit by slow degrees, using some kind of instrument I could not even describe for you. Then he painstakingly filled in the middle. The fruit completed, he
