Of course, I wasn’t really trying to hit her. There’s a big gap between a sparring match and combat, and I didn’t want to push it too far.

But then, if I didn’t push her in training, I wasn’t really doing her any favours.

Here goes.

I went up to full speed, and for the first time I moved with real killing intent. Instead of picking out futures where I nearly got through Luna’s defences, I searched for ones where the blade landed. Luna’s eyes went wide as the first stroke hissed by, and she jumped back. The second stroke she parried, the third she dodged—and stumbled. In the instant she was off balance I reversed the swing, striking down at her neck.

In my mage’s sight, the wand at Luna’s hand flared to life. A whip of silver mist leapt out, and for just an instant, all the visions I had of the future were of that silver mist surging into my body as the sword cut through Luna’s skin.

I dropped the sword, turning the attack into a dive and roll. As I hit the mat I heard a gasp and a thud—then silence.

I came up, suddenly sick with the conviction that I’d just made a really horrible mistake. Luna had dropped her own sword and her hand was pressed to the side of her neck, and for a moment my stomach lurched . . . and then she took her hand away. The skin was reddened but unbroken.

I closed my eyes for a second, taking a breath. Too close.

“Wow,” Luna said. Her eyes were a little wide. “That was intense.”

I didn’t answer. Checking, I couldn’t see any of that lethal grey aura clinging to me; we’d both pulled our attacks at the very last instant. “We’re done for today. Meet me up on the roof.”

| | | | | | | | |

“This isn’t working,” I told Luna twenty minutes later.

The roof of the gym was cold but not freezing, the air carrying just enough of a chill to numb the tips of your ears and nose. The gym was set a little back from the street, meaning that while we couldn’t see any cars or roads, we did get an interesting view of the buildings around us. TV aerials and chimneys rose from the gravelled roofs like some weird kind of urban forest, and a couple of roof gardens sprouted up to our left, greenery against brick and concrete. A hundred feet away, a couple of young men in suits were talking animatedly on a balcony, and off to the other side a cat was washing itself on a balustrade. The breeze ruffled my hair, carrying with it the scent of car exhaust; over the buildings to the south the afternoon sun glanced off the skyscrapers of the inner city, and high above, wispy clouds hung in a clear blue sky. Just another London winter day.

“Wait a sec,” Luna said. “We’re not going to have the ‘this is why it’s dangerous for you to learn martial arts’ conversation again, are we? Because you agreed—”