The shadows converged, tried to wrap around her hands and feet. Darquesse snarled, cutting through them with her fingernails. She gagged suddenly, saw blood, took a moment to work out that her throat had been slashed. She healed it and saw Vile, conducting the shadows like an orchestra. She blurred to him, threw him back against the wall, spilling books and breaking shelves. She was on him again, holding him above her as she launched upwards. She smashed him through the ceiling into the floor above, smashed through into the floor above that, and the floor above that. There he broke free, elbowed her, impaled her cheek with the spike that grew from that elbow, and wrenched it out. She spat blood on to the eye-slit in his mask and he tried to push her away, but she grabbed him, spun, and hurled him to the line of windows overlooking the street. He smashed through and she saw the night swoop down and catch him.

She was breathing hard, covered in dust and blood and plaster. She was sweating, too, and starving. All this energy, all this magic, being used on someone who seemed to be just as tough as she was. Maybe even tougher. She healed her face and walked to the windows. Vile hovered in mid-air, looking at her. His armour was spiked, ready for round two.

Below, sirens wailed and blue lights flashed. Above, a police helicopter sped towards them, searchlight probing the streets. Darquesse smiled.

She ran for the window, jumped and took flight, the wind in her hair again. She flew up, away from Vile, towards the helicopter. She ducked the searchlight, coming around low, but before she could punch through the underside, Vile had his arms around her and was pulling her away. They tumbled out of the sky. For a moment it looked like they might smash into the fire engine speeding across O’Connell Bridge, but Vile changed their trajectory and they hit the water, went deep into the Liffey, and Vile lost his grip.

Darquesse powered through the dark river, Vile right behind, reaching out. He snagged her foot and she veered up, broke the surface, trying to shake him. He twisted in mid-air, threw her like a baseball. It was almost fun, the speed at which she was thrown. Another window smashed to smithereens around her. She hit a railing, tumbled down some stairs, came to rest against a shelf, comics falling on top of her. She saw a sign that said Forbidden Planet. A comic shop. How fitting.

She looked up. Vile stood at the top of the stairs.