“You can’t be controlled through the link, but you still broadcast tactically,” he said. “I know everything you’re going to do before you do it.” She looked unfazed, ignoring him and focusing on the fight. He danced lightly through her next several gunshots, moving so calmly he never looked like he was straining. Heron worked her way closer, sometimes leading him with bullets, sometimes trying for a hit, all the time working her way back into knife range. Kira tried to keep track of the number of shots, wondering when she would run out, when suddenly Heron slashed with her knife, dropping her gun hand and ejecting the ammo clip from the pistol; it slid across the ice, and when Armin stepped back to dodge the blade, his foot landed on the sliding metal clip and he lost his balance, throwing out his arm to keep from falling. Heron took the opening with a vicious grin, leaping forward to slash at the man’s throat, but he turned his pinwheel into a parry, taking her blade on the bone of his arm and slashing back with his own knife. Heron backed up, reassessing the situation.

“That was a good trick,” said Armin, “but you can’t beat me.”

“Probably not,” said Heron. “Doesn’t mean I can’t win.” She paused. “Kira?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me you’re sure about this,” said Heron. “Tell me it’ll work, and everyone will live, and I’m not just wasting my time.”

Kira set her jaw. “I promise.”

“Well then,” said Heron, drawing another knife from her belt. “Let’s end this.”

She dashed forward, a blade in each hand, slashing and stabbing like a tornado of steel. Armin struck at her, a clear feint to drive her to the side, but Heron screamed and took the blade in her chest, catching the weapon with her own body and bearing him backward with the force of her charge. His eyes widened in shock as he tried to draw back his knife, but it was too late; Heron had her opening.

Six lightning-fast slashes from her knives, and she had cut him to ribbons.

Armin teetered on his feet, bleeding from a dozen deep slashes in his neck and chest, and collapsed into the snow.

Heron started to pivot but collapsed beside him, his knife still deep in her heart.

DEATH

Kira felt the tears on her face, hot and freezing at the same time. She forced her foot forward, first one inch, then two. Armin’s overpowering command data faded from the air, and she took another step, then another. Heron’s blood steamed in the frozen road, melting dark red holes in the snow below her.

Two more steps. Three.