Craven raised his hands and Valkyrie pushed at the air, flinging him back. He went rolling across the floor and she ran in, aiming a kick at his head. He saw her coming at the last moment, covered up, taking the boot along his arms. He howled in pain and lashed out, a shard of darkness sliding uselessly across her jacket. Flame flared in her hand and she flicked it on to him. He shrieked as his robes caught fire. He tore the robes off and hurled them away, turning to face her wearing faded thermal long johns, his amulet bouncing on his chest.

“I never liked you,” he sneered. “And now finally I get to—”

She flicked her hand and his amulet flew from around his neck. He cried out and reached up for it as she stepped in and rammed her elbow into his chin. His head rocked back and he was unconscious even as he was falling.

Valkyrie let the amulet drop and looked back as Vile stumbled. The shadows coiled and lashed around Melancholia’s feet. She wiped the blood from her face.

“I’m not scared of you,” Melancholia said. “You’re only his armour, after all. You’re not the real Lord Vile. I killed the real Lord Vile.”

Vile sprang, but a wave caught him, sent him spinning into the wall. That little victory boosted Melancholia’s confidence.

“I’m curious as to how you’re still functioning without the skeleton, though,” Melancholia said. “I thought he was controlling you with his mind or something. No? That’s not it? You’re a little more independent than that?”

Vile flung his shadows at her but she batted them down.

“Oh well,” she continued, actually starting to smile now. “I suppose we’ll never know. You will remain a mystery.”

Shadows detached themselves from the cavern ceiling and fell like javelins. Vile didn’t even see them coming. The first missed, but the second one caught him in his shoulder and kept going through his armour, impaling him to the floor. The third caught the calf of his leg. He stood there, trying to move away, trying to free himself, but the shadows were solid.

Instead of gloating, as Valkyrie fully expected her to do, Melancholia doubled over, like she was trying to catch her breath. The shadows flexed suddenly and she grimaced.

Valkyrie narrowed her eyes. “You feeling OK, Mel? You don’t look too good. Do you want to lie down?”

“Stop,” Melancholia hissed, “talking.”

Darkness sprang from Melancholia and Valkyrie flinched, but it retracted before it hit her – retracted so violently that Melancholia stumbled.

“It’s all a bit much, isn’t it?” Valkyrie said. “All those powerful sorcerers you killed, their energy speeding around inside you. I bet you can feel Skulduggery, can’t you? I bet you can feel him whirling around in there.”

“He’s gone,” Melancholia said. “They’re all gone.”