LITMIR.BIZ

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shook his head. “That’s with Darquesse, right? I’m not interested in that. You need to find out if Valkyrie is the Death Bringer.”

      “I can only see what I see,” Finbar said in a sing-song voice. “My sight is drawn to the big moments …”

      “Then look away,” Wreath snarled, but his impatience went unnoticed.

      “I’ve never seen this much detail,” Finbar continued, deep in the trance. “I’ve always flinched … But now I can see it all … So many dead … It’s wonderful …”

      Wreath held his tongue.

      “I’m looking at Darquesse now … She’s magnificent … She’s striding through the city, death all around her … You’d like this, dude. So much death …”

      “I didn’t ask for a vision of Darquesse, I asked for a vision of Valkyrie.” Wreath’s eyes narrowed. “Unless …”

      Finbar smiled in his dream-state. “Unless?”

      “Is Valkyrie still there? Can you see her?”

      “I can sense her presence, but all I can see is Darquesse.”

      “Maybe that’s it,” Wreath said, sudden excitement burning through him. “Maybe that’s how she does it. If Valkyrie is the Death Bringer, maybe she’s the one who steps up and fights. Maybe she’s the one who stops Darquesse and then this, her victory, is what leads to the Passage. This is how she saves the world.”

      “I don’t see any of that,” Finbar said. “All I see is Darquesse.” His smile was replaced by a grimace. “This is painful, by the way …”

      “Keep looking.”

      “It hurts my head.”

      “Keep looking or you’ll lose that head.”

      “I’ll keep looking then.”

      Blood dripped from Finbar’s nose. Wreath said nothing.

      “I’ve found her again,” Finbar said happily.

      “Valkyrie?”

      “Darquesse. I’m … I’m drawn to her … I don’t have a choice. She is … everything. She’s so cold. I’m trying to get in closer, but she’s … She’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen …”

      “Can you see a weakness? How can Valkyrie destroy her?”

      “Darquesse will not be destroyed!” Finbar snarled suddenly. “She is everything!”

      “Tell me her weakness.”

      “She has none! She is perfection!”

      “Then who is she? Where does she come from?”

      Finbar strained harder, and blood began leaking from his ears. “The shadows are heavy around her … I’m trying to see her face … She’s looking away from me … No, wait, she’s turning, she’s turning, I can see her …”

      Finbar stopped talking.

      “Well?” Wreath pressed. “Can you see her face? What does she look like? Who is she?”

      Finbar’s eyes opened. He blinked up at Wreath. “This changes everything.”

      Wreath leaned in close. “Who is she, damn it?”

      “You Necromancers have your messiah,” Finbar said, “now we Remnants have ours.”

      The black veins appeared again, and his head shot forward and crunched against Wreath’s nose. Wreath stumbled back, cursing, feeling his shadow restraints collapse under Finbar’s Remnant-enhanced strength. Hands grabbed him, and suddenly he was flying into the far wall. He crashed through a shelf and sent equipment spilling out across the floor.

      “Hope you don’t mind, man,” Finbar said, smiling at him, “but I’m gonna take you over for a bit. I have a brand-new mission, and I need an upgrade.”

      Wreath tasted his own blood. His cane was on the floor behind him. There were two ways out of this room – the door and the window. The window was closer.

      Finbar opened his mouth wide. Wreath glimpsed the Remnant start to climb out and then he spun, snatching up his cane and using the shadows to smash the window. He leaped through the broken glass without the slightest hesitation, landing painfully on the cobbled street, sending people scattering all around him. He didn’t look at their shocked faces. He didn’t look back at Finbar, standing at the window. He just ran.

      

      alkyrie took a taxi to St Anne’s Park, which was still covered in a fine frosting of white that the weak sun was failing to melt away. She passed over the gurgling stream, smiling at a dog that was being taken for a walk. Her breath came out in puffs of cloud, and her hands were jammed in her pockets. She moved off the well-worn trail into the trees. Dead twigs cracked under her boots.

      Caelan was standing on an embankment that dipped five metres down. He didn’t look round as she approached. Instead, he kept his gaze on an old couple below him, out for a brisk midday stroll. Valkyrie wondered, briefly, if he was hungry.

      “I need your help,” she said, and watched him turn his eyes to her. Being held in his gaze had become an electric experience that was as addictive as it was unsettling. She didn’t like this power he had over her. Being around him was like being around China, but with China she at least had the knowledge that the attraction was coerced through use of magic. With Caelan, though, the attraction was real, and so it was a lot more dangerous.

      “I’m waiting,” he said, with a slight smile, and she realised she hadn’t spoken a word for the last few seconds. She looked away, letting her hair fall over her face to hide the blush creeping through her cheeks.

      “You’re probably not going to like it,” she said, “so it’d be a huge favour I’d have to pay back. The problem is that I can’t really tell you why I need this done. You’ve just got to trust me when I say I have my reasons.”

      “What do you need?”

      Valkyrie hesitated. “I need you to taste my blood.”

      Caelan’s smile froze on his lips. “You can’t be serious.”

      “Dusk bit me,” she said. “You know how much he wanted to kill me, and he had his chance, but he didn’t take it. Haven’t you ever wondered why he let me go?”

      “Because I stopped him,” Caelan replied gruffly.

      “No. You arrived after he’d pushed me away. He told Billy-Ray Sanguine that he tasted my blood and … I don’t know. Whatever happened, whatever was in my blood, it changed his mind. He no longer wants to kill me. They both think it’s a lot crueller to let me live.”

      “You want me to tell you what’s so special about your blood?”

      “Yes.”

      “Dusk is hundreds of years older than me. He could detect a thousand different nuances in your blood that I couldn’t begin to identify. Dusk is a connoisseur. I’m not.”

      “But you can try.”

      “There’s no point.”

      “Caelan, there’s something wrong with me, do you understand? There’s something wrong with who I am and Dusk knew straight away, from one tiny bite. You might not have his experience, but I need you to try.”

      “You

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