The vase shard dropped and Moore lost his footing, went down, dragging Valkyrie off balance. She tumbled over him and he grabbed at her, but she kicked him away, got up, ran for the stairs. She took them three at a time, but he was after her, lunged and caught her ankle. She fell against the stairs painfully. He was gripping her leg with one hand, the other reaching up, hooking into the waistband of her jeans, dragging her down towards him. She twisted, crunching his fingers between her back and the wooden step, and he roared and released. She scrambled up, got to the landing, burst into her room, flung open the wardrobe and grabbed the black clothes, searching the pockets for the ring.

Moore collided with her from behind. He was roaring now, a constant roar of anger and murderous hatred. He threw her back. She fell on to her bed and he was on top of her. She crossed her arms over her head and his knuckles cracked against her elbows. He hissed in pain, grabbed her arms, tried to pull them away from her face but she resisted, her muscles burning. She waited until he gave an almighty heave and then she shoved him, adding to his own strength, and he fell backwards off the bed. She tried to spring past him but he flailed, caught her leg. She hit the ground and he was on her. The Necromancer ring was on the floor of the wardrobe. She didn’t need to focus to use it. She reached out but it was too far. She could see herself in the mirror, see Moore on top of her. He caught her eye and grinned. She stopped reaching for the ring, and instead her fingers tapped the mirror. Her reflection, bloody and bruised, blinked, and stood up.

Moore froze. “What the hell…?”

The reflection’s foot came out of the mirror and lashed into Moore’s face.

He went backwards. Valkyrie heard him crash into her desk. She turned over, and the reflection pulled her to her feet.

“This isn’t right,” Moore gasped, sucking in air through broken teeth. “How did you do that? What the hell is that?”

The reflection left Valkyrie standing there and closed in. For a moment Moore looked like he might shrink back, but fear mixed with his anger and he snarled again. He threw a punch and the reflection lunged, its arms crossed in front of its face, taking the punch on its forearms. It grabbed Moore’s head and started slamming in headbutts. Moore’s legs gave out and he slipped from the reflection’s grasp, his face a mess, already unconscious as he hit the floor.

The reflection looked back at Valkyrie. “We should kill him,” it said.

Valkyrie frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous.”