others? Were they even alive any more? She couldn’t feel them, couldn’t feel anything but this raging fear blocking out everything.
The Original strolled slowly towards her, pausing to pick some yellow gristle out of his teeth before advancing some more.
‘So it’s true, then,’ he said in a voice that reverberated like a gong inside her skull. ‘The White Light lives.’ He tipped his head and smiled. ‘At least for a few more seconds.’
Evie held her blade out in front of her trying not to let it shake. Suddenly it seemed as ineffective as a toothpick.
The Original paused for a nanosecond, smiling in amusement at the sight, before he began circling her in light steps as if the two of them were dancing a waltz.
‘Did you come here to try again?’ he asked.
His voice swirled like fog, confusing her. She struggled to make sense of the words. What did he mean, try again?
All of a sudden she heard Lucas in her head, his voice, low and calm, ordering her to stop retreating and start attacking. Her hand immediately stopped shaking, her breathing steadied. Without pausing she lunged, feinting right, and rolling to her left, coming up under the Original’s arm, her blade slicing the air as he dodged the strike.
Don’t lose the advantage. Surprise him again. It was Lucas talking in her head and his voice was so good to hear, so real, that she obeyed without thinking, darting forward, aiming straight for the heart. The Original was surprised once more, but still managed to sidestep her attack.
‘That the best you can do?’ she asked, growing in confidence.
His lips curled into a grimace. And this time he came at her. Fast. A blur. Evie threw herself to the ground, rolling onto her side. He went sailing past. She was on her feet spinning around trying to see him in the next second but he’d vanished. She spun the other way. And something metallic closed around her neck, gripping vice-tight.
Evie choked, fear and panic igniting every cell of her body. Her toes scraped the ground as she was lifted by the throat, and her vision began to cloud.
Fight back! she heard Lucas yell.
Dots danced in front of her eyes and then, without warning, just as she was starting to lose all sensation in her body, an arrow of pain shot down her neck and acid flushed through her veins. She was on fire from the inside out, black flames licking around her, devouring every cell, every muscle, every nerve. Somewhere in the dark someone was screaming – a terrible, ricocheting noise that spiralled through her skull like a drill.
It was her, she realised – she was the one screaming. The sound terrified her but then it cut off abruptly and blood rushed into her mouth. He was draining her. She was going to die here, in this garden, without having killed Victor, without having got her revenge.
Fight back goddamn it! Don’t give up. It was Lucas, his voice a whisper pushing through the enclosing gloom.
With one final effort she squeezed her fingers together, tightening them around the slippery hilt of the blade. She brought her arm up, feeling the weight of the shadow blade, no longer light as air but heavy as steel. And then, with a final gargled yell, she slashed with all that remained of her strength.
The pain eased in her neck. She fell backwards into soft velvet darkness.
Get up.
She couldn’t get up. She couldn’t move. She tried to roll onto her front – tasted dirt mingling with blood. Her fingers sank into earth. She tried to push herself onto her knees, but she was moving so slowly and her head felt as if it had liquid sloshing around in it. She opened her eyes. The world was upside down. She was kneeling on cloud, But then she realised she was lying on her side and there was a thumping noise all around her, coming from beneath her, as though the earth itself was a giant drum. Only, the rhythm was slowing.
A boot appeared. A man’s boot, right in front of her face. She twisted her head and squinted up at the figure silhouetted above her, smiling. It was Lucas.
But then he moved and the sunlight fell on him and she saw it wasn’t Lucas at all. It was the Original. He was holding one hand to his shoulder and she could see the red seeping through the cotton of his shirt and between his fingers. She’d done that. She