“Are you referring to my gun or to me?” Skulduggery was supposed to say. But of course he didn’t. He stood there in silence and she waited for him to speak.

He finished loading the gun, and he clicked it shut, held it down by his leg.

“She’s dead,” Darquesse told him, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to kill her so soon, but … well.”

He stayed quiet.

“Anything you want to know before you die?” she asked. “Any last questions? Ask me anything about Valkyrie and I’ll answer, as honestly as I’m able. Anything you’ve always wondered?”

Not a sound.

She smiled. “You’re an impressive man, Skulduggery. There will never be another like you. And if you don’t want to talk, I understand that. You want to get to it, I suppose. I’m … I’m going to miss you. Please know that.” She took a breath, and gave him a sad smile. “I know you made a promise,” she said. “Until the—”

He was so fast she never even saw him raise the gun. The first bullet hit her throat, the second burrowed through her cheek, and the third blew the back of her head open. They didn’t worry her, of course. The entry wounds were already healing before the exit wounds had even formed. The fourth and fifth bullets caused her a little concern, however, smashing through her brain the way they did, and the sixth tore through her breastbone and punctured her heart. That one was probably symbolic.

Six bullets, though. He’d got off six bullets. In the vision, he’d only fired three.

She reached out to him with her magic, started plucking at the energy holding him together. His fingers went first, and the gun and the glove fell, the finger bones rattling on the street. She kept pushing, skewering his magic, and she watched his arm fall, his sleeve flapping in the wind.

His other arm now. And then she went low, to stop him from getting any closer. She sliced at the magic around his feet and then his ankles fell apart and he dropped to his knees and his hips went and he toppled backwards and now he was just a skeleton in a suit that was quickly deflating around him.

He tried to sit up, tried to raise his head, but she finished him off and his bones clattered. The only magic remained in his skull, and she plucked it from his spine and held it up, made sure he could see her, and then she kissed him, with all the love she could muster. She kissed him goodbye, and when she let the skull fall the last of who he was disappeared into the ether, and the skull broke and the jawbone spun away.