The shadows coiled and Vile emerged, taking Darquesse’s head in his hands and wrenching it to one side. Her neck broke and immediately mended, but the cry of pain that accompanied her wild swing was enough to spur Melancholia on even while Vile fell back. The shadows lashed again and again, cutting through Darquesse’s defences. She was spending so much power healing her body that she could no longer dampen her pain. She was feeling every strike now, and her wounds were taking longer to repair.

She darted suddenly, closing the gap between herself and Melancholia. Caught off guard, Melancholia tripped and Darquesse landed on top of her. She rained down punches. Melancholia’s shadow armour convulsed in panicked response. She wasn’t used to physical confrontations.

Valkyrie ran in, slipped her arm round Darquesse’s throat, hauled her off. Melancholia rolled over on to her hands and knees, regaining her bearings. Darquesse twisted, managed to hook a foot between Valkyrie’s. They fell, Valkyrie on the bottom. Darquesse turned into her, hit her with everything she had, but Valkyrie grabbed her wrist, threw her left leg over Darquesse’s head and straightened. Darquesse fell on to her back and Valkyrie yanked down on her arm as she raised her hips, and she heard the elbow break.

Darquesse screamed.

Valkyrie lost her grip and Darquesse rolled away, still screaming as she got up, clutching her dangling arm. Before she could heal, Vile sent a shard of darkness right through her torso.

Darquesse dangled there, off her feet, her eyes wide and blood running from her open mouth. The shard retracted and Darquesse stood, swaying. She was in shock.

They were going to win.

Darkness reared up around her, forming a Venus flytrap of shadows. It sprang closed, two dozen razored barbs skewering her body. The shadows started to melt and Darquesse stumbled through them, falling to her knees. She started to flicker. She was trying to shunt.

Valkyrie raised both her hands, white lightning flowing from her fingertips. The lightning hit Darquesse and she cried out and fell sideways. She stopped flickering.

Melancholia and Vile walked up behind her as she tried to crawl away.

Say this for her – she’s not going down without a fight.

Melancholia reached down, grabbed a fistful of hair, and she pulled Darquesse back up to her knees. Darquesse gasped, her face splattered with her own blood. Melancholia allowed her shadow armour to retract, and it lashed at the ground wildly, like a petulant child denied its plaything.

“This has been invigorating,” Melancholia said. “Truly invigorating. Finally, I’m realising my own potential. I can … I can sense life and death. I can see it. I can see it all around us. I see it in you, Darquesse. I see your life. I see how easy it would be to just … pluck it out.”

Darquesse reached up, tried to free herself, but the effort was feeble, and Melancholia slapped the hand down.