UNSEEN

Whether Hatif is the angel of the unseen or the unseen angel is a matter of some dispute and two senior theologians nearly had a duel over the point some years ago. It would have made a fine show – the two old men, armed with scimitars, meeting in the Plaza at the precise moment of dawn when a green thread can just be distinguished from a blue one, their great scarlet theologian capes swirling about them , the copper spurs on their high boots striking sparks from the cobbles, -- but some joyless administratrix cancelled it, invoking the authority of a stray calico cat which had reasonable cause to believe she might be God.

In any event, Hatif has never been seen in the Dark City, which some take as proof he lives there, at least when he is not brooding in empty rooms or telling trees it is safe to fall – no one will hear them.