Virgil threw him the overnight bag. It was unzipped, and gaped open when it fell. The Narrow Man reached down slowly, pulled out the velvet frockcoat.

“That’s the real thing,” Virgil told him. “The actual coat worn by Javier Santorum when he played the part of Insidio. There were three. Javier has one, one was ruined during filming, and I snagged the last. You took the face of my arch-enemy. I think it’s time you became my arch-enemy, what do you say?”

The Narrow Man smiled. He held the coat out in front of him, admiring it, and then with a flourish he twirled it as he shapeshifted. He slipped an arm into the sleeve and he got a little shorter, a little broader. He reached back and slipped in the other arm and his skin became awash with colour and black hair grew from his scalp. He shrugged the coat up on to his shoulders and his features rearranged themselves and became those of Oscar Moreno, otherwise known as Javier Santorum, otherwise known as Ernesto Insidio.

“It is an honour,” said Insidio, actually talking in that rasp that Javier adopted for the part, “to face you in your final moments.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Virgil said, backing away a little more on the muddy outcrop as Insidio neared. He reached behind, his fingers tapping Austin’s sleeve, making sure he was in place. Insidio took another step.

Virgil met him with a jab. It rocked Insidio, made him slip in the mud, set him up perfectly for the haymaker, but now it was Virgil’s turn to slip and his fist clipped Insidio’s chin instead of putting him on his back.

Still, for something that would appear to be the second last punch he’d ever throw, it had been a decent jab. He’d have to be happy with that.

Insidio had an answer to it, of course. He caught Virgil in the side with a punch that, Virgil was pretty sure, broke his ribs. All the air rushed from his lungs and the right side of Virgil’s body now seemed to be made entirely of sharp pieces. Virgil stumbled, gasping with the pain, and Insidio hit him again and Virgil’s hat flew off, vanished over the edge into darkness.

He couldn’t see. His mask had become dislodged. He’d forgotten that used to happen during the action sequences. Scowling, he ripped it off, threw it straight into Insidio’s face and then dived at him, tried to wrap his arms around him. But he slipped again and dropped to his knees as Insidio staggered from his grip.

“Run!” Virgil shouted. “Run, Austin!”