'That's a cute trick,' said Regan. 'Stolen, I assume.' 

'You like it? I took it from a spineless little man who allowed it to go to waste on burglary.' 

'It suits your personality.' 

'I choose to take that as a compliment.' 

'You shouldn't.' 

'Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings for no reason at all,' Trevellian's voice drifted on the wind. 

Regan peered into the gloom where Trevellian had disappeared. Bastian looked at the area she was searching, trying to find any sign of movement. 

'Where are you looking?' said Trevellian beside him. 

Bastian lashed out with a fist, but he couldn't match Tevellian's speed. He retreated backward and closely avoided a knife aimed at his chest. Trevellian took advantage of the momentary opening and slipped a kick under Bastian's guard. It hit him in the ribs with a sharp crack that forced the air out of his lungs. As he doubled over, Trevellian kicked him in the stomach and sent him hurtling backwards. Bastian's lower back slammed into the safety railing at the edge of the landing. He felt a wash of panic flood through him as he lost his balance and began to fall backwards. He threw out a hand and grabbed the railing to stop himself from toppling over the edge. He looked up in time to see a knife fly from the darkness and hit Regan with enough force to spin her around. Her blue hair fluttered around her face as she collapsed to the ground. 

'Regan!' 

Bastian ran to where Regan lay at the centre of the helipad, crumpled in a heap like an actress playing out a scene under a giant spotlight. As he reached her, she shifted and pushed herself to her knees. She was holding the knife. 

Bastian let out an explosive breath. 

She had caught the knife short. He could see the blood on her chest where it had wounded her. Regan slowly forced herself to her feet and threw it aside. 

'I thought you were dead.' 

'Your enemy should be your only concern, spike-boy. Focus on anything else and you're going to end up a corpse.' 

Trevellian chuckled from the darkness. 'How long until one of my knives touches a vital spot? You see the vast chasm that exists between us now?' 

Bastian felt the anger rise in him like a tide. It spilled over, overwhelming him with frustrated rage. 

'You won't face us like a real fighter,' he yelled. 'You're nothing but a coward!' 

'I suppose that's a matter of perspective. Where did you pick this one up, Regan?' 

'He came as part of a set.' 

Regan twisted to the side as a knife whipped past her with a snip noise of cutting air. It struck a spark from the deck and ricochetted away into the void. Another flicked past. Then another. They came from the circle of shadows surrounding the helipad like angry metal wasps. 

Bastian and Regan came together at the centre of the helipad, facing outwards towards the impenetrable darkness. 

'You can avoid one at a time, but how about two or three? What if I turn the air into a swarm of flying daggers?' 

'He's just going to sit in the dark throwing knives at us until we miss one,' said Bastian bitterly. 

Regan moved away from the centre of the helipad and walked closer to the shadows until she was on the border between light and darkness. 

'Pointless,' said Trevellian. 'You can barely avoid my attacks at the centre of the light. How will you block my knives with no warning?' 

'You've got a lot of fancy tricks, infiltrator. With a bit of practice you might get to headline for a talking dog.' 

'So you want to see which is faster then? My knives or your sword?' 

'Throw your toys at me, Trevellian, and see how little I care.' 

'Very well, if you feel something will be achieved through suicide, far be it from me to dissuade you.' 

Bastian started to see spots and realised that he had stopped breathing.

There was a sudden flash of metal and drops of blood hit the ground, standing out bright against the surface of the helipad under the lights. 

Trevellian staggered into the light holding his mouth as Regan spun to a sliding stop in a feline crouch. Bastian hadn't even seen her move. Trevellian let out a muffled scream though his hand as blood ran down his chin and dripped onto his immaculate suit. Bastian looked across at Regan. She rose with murder in her eyes and blood streaming from her closed fist. As she opened her hand he saw the bloody knife fall from her fingers and hit the deck with a splatter of red. 

Bastian's mouth fell open. She had caught the knife with her bare hand. 

'You cut me across the mouth!'

There was a wet sibilance to Trevellian's words, as if his tongue wasn't fully under his control. He spat a gob of blood and saliva onto the ground, then dropped his hand quickly and brought up a knife to defend himself as Regan came flying at him. Bastian watched them come together with a loud clash of blades. 

'Don't just stand there!' Regan shouted. 

Bastian realised that he had just been standing and watching. He rushed forward and tried to take Trevellian's back by surprise, but the infiltrator was too fast for him. He kept Bastian and Regan at bay with a knife in each hand. As he dropped his hand from his face to draw his knife, Bastian saw the deep gash he had been trying to hold closed. It ran outwards from the corner of his mouth, as if someone had put a giant hook through his cheek and torn it away. Blood streamed down his face in a red torrent. The wound made it look like his expression had twisted into a bizarre nightmare sneer. 

'Perhaps I chose the wrong craft,' said Trevllian. 'How did you know where to find me?' 

'You were the one who said it was all a matter of perspective. Your knives weren't coming at random. They were pushing us into the light so it would blind us and made it easier for you to hide.' 

'Serves me right for trying to manipulate you,' he tried to smile and winced. 'Do you have any idea how painful it was to have that craft transplanted?' 

'I hope it was excruciating,' 

'More than you can imagine.' 

Regan gave a humourless smile. 

'I should have known that would please you,' said Trevellian. 

He ducked under Regan's sword and dodged a kick aimed at his face. 

'If there was a film I'd see it twice.' 

'They had to change the entire surface of my body. Millions of transparent microscopic hairs had to be made part of my flesh so I could refract and bend the light around me.' 

'Congratulations. You're a human fibre-optic cable.' 

Trevllian let out irritated sigh. 'Is everything worthless in your eyes?' 

'Only the things that have no worth. I hoped that cutting your mouth open would make you talk less. Apparently, I was wrong.' 

Bastian tried to move to Trevellian's flank, but before he was able to slip around, the infiltrator pointed a knife at him. Even though he wasn't being watched, Bastian realised that Trevellian still knew where he was. 

'You take such pleasure in uncovering the weaknesses of others,' said Trevellian. 'I believe, for once, I've uncovered one of yours.' 

'I find that unlikely.' 

Bastian felt a strange uneasiness creeping though him. He didn't like the change in Trevellian's demeanour. 

'Careful,' he said. 'He's planning something.' 

'Oh! it speaks!' said Trevellian. 'So glad to see you're making a contribution.' 

'He's always planning something,' said Regan. 

'Indeed. How fortunate then that you should furnish me with the means of your destruction. Kessler was right; you're getting soft.' 

Trevellian whipped his hands up like talons and Bastian readied himself to look for an opening. It took him a second to realise that the attack wasn't directed at Regan, but at him. By the time he brought his hands up to defend himself, it was too late. Trevellian grabbed his arm and threw him at Regan like a sack of rocks. He felt himself hanging in the air for a moment before he hit her with concussive force. 

Regan went flying and Bastian landed hard on the metal deck. Trevellian was on him in an instant, his knife raised to strike. Bastian lifted his arms to protect himself, even though he knew it wouldn't do any good. 

As the knife plunged down towards Bastian's chest, Carver came flying out of the darkness and slammed into Trevellian with a shoulder charge that sent him reeling. For a moment, Trevellian's eyes registered pure shock. He staggered backwards as Carver fell to the ground with the last of her lifeblood spilling from her stomach.

For a few brief seconds, he was completely unguarded. As Bastian looked on, Regan rose behind him like a creature from the pit.

For the rest of his life, Bastian would remember Regan as she was in that instant. Her eyes burned with a savage purpose and her hand was steady as she took her sword and thrust it into Trevellian's spine. 

There was a deep, resonating crunch, and for a moment the world stopped. 

Trevellian's mouth opened in surprise as Regan's blade entered his back, and his eyes went glassy, like he was drifting away. Regan gave the blade a sharp twist that brought him back into a world of terrible agony. As she wrenched her blade free, he fell to the ground and started to scream. He writhed on the ground like a fish on a spear, flopping backwards and forwards as Regan lifted her sword to finish him. Bastian looked away. 

'Regan.' 

The voice was almost a whisper, but it cut through the wind like a blade.  

Bastian looked up. There was a woman with white hair looking down at them from the roof of the wheelhouse. Under the moonlight she looked like a porcelain doll. 

Regan slowly lowered her sword, then turned and looked over her shoulder as if there were gears driving her from the inside. The look on her face was demonic. 

'Kessler. Finally.'