“Oh, come on,” I said. “Quiet neighbourhood, door-to-door entertainment . . . there’s even romantic candlelight.”

“My ribs are sticking out of my side.”

“You did say you wanted a match against someone who could challenge you.”

“Does this happen every time you go out with someone?”

“Hey, at least I’m not a boring date.”

Smoke rose from the floor below, ash drifting up into the night. We sat together in the ruined house as I searched through the futures, looking to see when help would arrive.

chapter 8

It was half an hour later.

Blue light flashed from the roofs of the police vehicles, reflected back from car windows and the fronts of the houses. The lights were out of sync, creating a weird strobing effect that made the shadows dance back and forth. Although the police were here, they weren’t going into the house: the Keeper liaisons had done their job and the figures in the black uniforms and yellow hi-vis jackets were holding a perimeter and putting up crime-scene tape at either end of the road. People were leaning out of windows and watching from doors, peering at the house where we’d fought our battle, but there was nothing to see. Plastic screens had gone up at the door and windows and all the activity was taking place inside.

“What day is it?” the woman standing over me asked.

“Saturday,” I said. I was sitting in the open boot of a car. A mobile command centre had arrived, Keepers and other Council personnel were bustling around, and it all looked very official.

“What’s the nearest tube station?”

“Uxbridge.”

“How old are you?”

“You don’t know how old I am, so I could answer that question any way I liked, so long as I didn’t lie too blatantly. I get it, you’re checking to see if I have a concussion. How about if I tell you how old you are, will that prove I can think straight?”

She didn’t take me up on the offer. “How are you feeling?”

“Beaten up, but I’ve had worse.”

“Nausea, headaches, problems with your balance?”

“Not yet, but shining that light in my eyes isn’t helping.”

The woman clicked the light off. “Make sure you see a doctor before you go home.”

The rush from the battle had worn off, and I was utterly exhausted. My arms and legs were heavy, and I could feel all the bruises and scrapes I’d taken fighting the icecats. All I wanted to do was sit there. “Sure.”

The woman left. I looked down, examining the forearm of my armour. Both of the icecats had raked my arms and I could see light score marks on the mesh, but the claws hadn’t penetrated to the skin. My armour had probably saved my life. The icecats might not have been able to kill me on their own, but if I’d been carrying those wounds when I went up against the golem, it would have slowed me down enough to make the difference.