“My power is practically limitless,” Melancholia said softly. “I’d describe the sensation to you, but words would not be sufficient. To understand what it’s like to be a god, you’d really have to be a god. Like me.”

“Get out of my house.”

“I could destroy you and no one would be able to do anything about it. I would tear you from your family. Your friends would be powerless to stop me. The Skeleton Detective? I’d make him watch.”

Valkyrie said nothing.

“What’s this? No comeback at all? Silence? I’m starting to think that you are scared of me. I bet your heart is beating much, much faster, isn’t it? I bet your mouth is dry.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to admit that you’re scared of me.”

“And then you’ll leave? Fine, I admit it. I’m scared of you. I’m terrified of you. Now leave.”

Melancholia smiled. “I don’t think you’re being genuine. Maybe if I say hello to your little sister, maybe then you’d show some genuine fear.”

“Take one step and I swear I’ll kill you.”

Melancholia laughed. Valkyrie heard the back door open and saw Caelan blurring towards them, fangs bared, but the shadows were already curling around her and suddenly Melancholia was taking her shadow-walking. Valkyrie cursed, the shadows went away and she went stumbling to the grass. She looked up to the Martello tower beside her. They were on the cliffs overlooking the beach. But that was impossible. Shadow-walking was strictly short-range teleportation.

“No other Necromancer could shadow-walk this far,” Melancholia murmured, obviously thinking the same thing. She looked back to the twinkling lights of the town. “How far was that? A kilometre? Two?”

At least they weren’t in the house any more, or anywhere near Alice. Valkyrie got to her feet, and Melancholia remembered she was there.

“A vampire?” she said. “In your house? Was it coming for me or for you? Ah, I don’t suppose it matters. Unless it’s feasting on your little sister as we speak. Now that would be amusing.”

“Why are you here?” Valkyrie asked. “Why are you out alone? Lord Vile is still on the loose, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Melancholia sighed. “Lord Vile is overrated. Cleric Craven told me that he’s really not as powerful as all the stories say.”

“Craven? You’d put your trust in Craven?”

“At least he isn’t running scared like your skeleton friend. And he has faith. He knows that if Vile does show up, and I doubt that he will, it won’t be a fair fight. I’ll crush that armour of his with him still inside. What’s left of him will ooze out of the eyeholes in his mask.”

“And you came all this way to tell me that?”