Darquesse had slashed him diagonally from the hip to the shoulder, and his body came apart in a violent display of blood and innards. Valkyrie’s hand had gone to her mouth to stop herself from crying out. When Solomon’s remains had settled on the ground, Darquesse discarded the sword and had gone after Ravel. And what had Ravel done?

He had thrown down the spear, and he had run.

Darquesse’s laughter reached Valkyrie, and it beckoned her.

She couldn’t stand by any longer. She didn’t think the Meryyn Sigil had activated yet – she certainly didn’t feel any different anyway – but she couldn’t keep hiding, not when there were so many people risking and giving their lives to buy her time. She watched a lone Cleaver attack Darquesse. She watched his scythe burst apart and his legs snap. He fell into the dirt and the rubble of the street and Darquesse walked over to him to finish the job with her bare hands.

Screw this.

Valkyrie slipped out of her hiding place, ran across the rooftop. It was a long way down and she jumped.

While she fell, she focused on her magic, focused on the energy inside her, tried to summon the barrier that would protect her when she landed, the cushion of light that had made her bounce off the tree by the roadside.

But nothing happened.

She could feel the magic, it crackled between her fingertips, but she didn’t know how to summon it or control it and now she was dropping towards certain, stupid death and she was going to die and her tattoo began to burn—

And she landed on her feet and her bones didn’t break.

She straightened up, peeked inside her jacket. The sigil glowed on her arm. She was invulnerable. Cool.

She reached out with her hand and then reached out with her magic, and white lightning sprang from her fingers and hit Darquesse, made her stumble.

The injured Cleaver forgotten about, Darquesse whirled, and her look of anger became a look of curiosity.

“Well now,” she said. “Look who’s got herself a whole new bag of tricks.”

“Damn right,” said Valkyrie, striding towards her.

“What are you, an energy thrower? Your magic is bubbling and boiling inside you. I can see it from here. It’s impressive. It’s … different. You’re not just an energy thrower, are you? There’s something else. Your magic is purer than …” Darquesse frowned. “What are you?”

“I’m stronger than you.”

“Well,” Darquesse said, smiling, “we’ll see about that.”

She hit Valkyrie full force and a thousand suns exploded behind her eyes, and when Valkyrie’s brain came back online a moment later she was tumbling backwards down the street. She came to a sprawling, ungraceful stop beside a parked car, and waited for her head to clear. Apparently being invulnerable didn’t mean that she couldn’t feel pain. Good to know.