I felt in better shape than Will looked. He’d landed two or three glancing hits, but I didn’t feel any wounds, not even on my back. But Will had stabbed me; I ought to have been—

My armour. As soon as I thought of it I remembered its presence again, watchful and protective. It had blended with my movements so completely that I’d forgotten I was wearing it. I’m not used to being protected in a fight—usually I can’t afford to get hit. But now I could.

But Will didn’t know that. In the darkness and confusion he couldn’t be sure I was protected, or how well. And he hated me so badly that he didn’t care; he’d do anything to hurt me, no matter the risk . . .

The plan flashed through my mind in an instant, and I turned and ran. Will was after me in an instant but I was already dodging left into my old cell, the one place in this mansion that I knew better than anywhere else. As Will caught up I turned, my sword deliberately out of position, leaving my lower body vulnerable. Will didn’t hesitate, going in for another low lunge, and this time I didn’t block. Instead I struck, matching his all-out attack with my own.

Will’s sword rammed into my stomach in the same move he’d used to cripple me in the casino. It felt like being kicked by a horse, but as the point of the sword drove into my gut the armour hardened into a rigid plate, spreading the impact over my lower body. Pain flashed through me and I stumbled, but the spell-woven cloth held.

At the same instant my jian hit Will, and he didn’t have any armour. The blade sank into his abdomen with a sensation exactly like cutting into meat with a kitchen knife. Will staggered, tried to back up, and I twisted the blade as he pulled off it, tearing the wound open.

Will righted himself. He didn’t look in pain or angry; he just looked surprised, as though he hadn’t quite caught up to what was happening. Still he attacked, but he wasn’t as fast now. I parried the first two strikes, then knocked his sword aside and skewered his thigh, tearing through the big muscle and leaving him nearly unable to move. Still Will fought on, blood dripping on the stone. A little voice told me to stop; I didn’t listen to it. One more pass, then I closed and rammed my sword through Will’s gut, and this time I put it all the way through. Only then did Will fall.

Will lay in his own blood, gasping, his face a hideous colour in the yellow light. “Are you happy?” I snarled down at him. “Is this what you wanted?”