As he struggles with Jeremiah, Danny remembers the people in the gas station – the dead bodies stacked up in the backroom. How had Jeremiah found the time to do all that, unless …

Gant said this house was magic. Danny doesn’t know about magic, but this place definitely defies reason. Valkyrie shot that weird light from her hands and Gant himself hadn’t even blinked just now when the sledgehammer hit him. OK, so if the house really is magic, and Gant and Valkyrie are magic, then maybe Jeremiah is, too. And by the looks of things his magic is the ability to draw out his kills while the world slows down around him. The perfect power for a serial killer.

Danny refocuses on the knife. Jeremiah’s strength is leaving him with every breath he puffs out. He’s relying on his weight now to keep the knife in position – saving the last of his energy for one final push. Sweat rolls off Jeremiah’s forehead and drops on to Danny’s face, on to his gritted teeth. Danny heaves, and they roll, and for a moment Danny is on top, but then Jeremiah flips them over again. Danny’s head knocks against Valkyrie’s leg. The tip of the knife scrapes his chest.

Danny lets the blade dig in. Sensing that his moment has arrived, Jeremiah grunts and snarls and drives downwards, but Danny surprises him by holding on, and they strain and struggle and strain again, and Jeremiah is the first to weaken.

Danny shoves him off, rolls on top, and Jeremiah gasps and cries, like he doesn’t want to play any more. Danny knocks the knife from his hand and, just like that, normal time resumes around them.

Gant turns, his smile quickly becoming a scowl as Danny finds himself being lifted off the floor. Valkyrie has him.

“Run,” she says.

He runs. She’s right behind him. They run across a swaying bridge of chains and mesh. Twice Danny’s foot slips through, dangles above the fire, and twice Valkyrie has to haul him up again. They reach a spiral staircase on the other side, and head up.

“I can’t,” Danny gasps.

“You have to,” Valkyrie says.

He trips and he falls and he bangs his knees and scalds his hands on the hot metal, but he keeps going. He doesn’t know how, but he keeps going. By the time they reach the top, his legs are jelly. Valkyrie wraps her arm round his waist, and she practically carries him onwards. Some distant part of his mind takes a moment to appreciate her strength.

“I’m all turned around,” she says. “Any idea how we get out of here?”

He looks around, then points at a distant platform. “There, I think.”

She scans the area, finding the quickest path through all the walkways and bridges. “Got it,” she says, and they’re off again.