“I was not born to fade away,” Mallian said, and she saw the look she had been waiting for, the hooded eyes, the dreamy distance as he considered his long, turbulent past and the many wonderful, amazing, terrible things he had seen and done.

Lilou drew on every dreg of her power, lowering all the masks and shields she lived with day to day in the world of the humans, and projected herself as she really was and always had been many centuries before, when hiding was not so important.

From behind her she heard a collective gasp as the humans fell under her spell.

In front of her, Mallian’s eyes went wide and his expression became open, almost childlike.

Lilou pulled the knife and stepped forward, sweeping the blade around towards Mallian’s throat. She would only have one strike, and it would have to be hard. The blade was keen. And although she hated the thought of it, and knew that his death would also be the end of her, it was the only thing left to do.

As the blade struck his throat it passed right through, and she stepped back from the imminent fountain of blood.

Mallian laughed.

In her hand, the blade had turned into a feather.

“Tickles,” he said. His laugh ended as if sliced in two, and there was no second chance. “No more, Lilou. No more.”

There was movement behind her, and in Mallian’s eyes she saw a reflection of the end.

* * *

Vince felt Angela’s hand close tighter around his own.

“No!” he shouted, tugging, struggling to get free so that he could run to Lilou’s aid, even though there was no help he could give. White-hot pain scorched in from his broken arm and he welcomed it. It was nothing compared to losing Lilou.

“No!” he screamed again, his throat raw.

He loved Lilou as well as Angela, and the emotional pain he felt was proof of that.

The fairy drifted closer to Lilou, reached out a hand, and white fire spurted from her palm. It broke around the nymph, then curled in and struck again and again, a blazing snake-like heat with a mind of its own.

Lilou barely had time to struggle. Her arms waved and she took a couple of steps to one side, but by then her beautiful hair was singed to nothing and her smooth skin blistered off, flesh aflame. Her scream was terrible but brief. She fell onto her side, glowing with blue fire as the fats in her body ignited. The flames shimmied and spat.

Grace lowered her hand and became motionless once again, a puppet awaiting its master.

Vince twisted and pulled, but Angela’s nails dug in, and her voice held him fast.

“Don’t leave me again.”

“She’s gone, Vince,” Sammi said through a blur of tears. He realised that she was holding onto him as well.

Lilou has gone.