The Last Duel

The Last Duel, Part Three

With her left hand Carla grabs my right wrist. Pulling my arm straight she jabs the fingertips of her right hand into the nerve cluster at the open crook of my right elbow and then again at the point where my right arm joins my shoulder.

Next - moving smoothly, methodically, eyebrows still knitted in concentration - she takes my left wrist with her right hand and (with her left) delivers identically precise and brutal fingertip jabs to corresponding spots on my left arm.

Releasing my wrist, she jabs me again with her right hand at a point seven centimetres below my belly-button. Her sixth blow in this past second is a palm-strike to my heart; her seventh and last is a ringing smack to my forehead with the heel of her right hand. Then she steps back and waits, watching me.

I've gone rigid. There's no feeling anywhere in my body: from my head to my toes everything has gone numb. For another whole second I just stand there, helpless, like a mannequin, then my balance tips. I topple like a tree, the back of my head hitting the rusty floor with an echoing CLANG.

…Ow.

I can't help wishing Carla had chosen a quicker way to do this: beheading, maybe, or a stab to the heart. Say what you like about all the times I've killed her, at least I tried to make it quick. Still: it's done. I wanted to provoke Carla into killing me and now it's happened, just like I planned. I lie there, looking up at purple-orange London night and I wait for death to take me.

I keep waiting.

Between me and the welcoming darkness Carla's face looms into view. She's standing over me, looking down.

'I have disabled your seven points of contact with the higher realm,' she tells me.

'Huh?'

'I have cut you off from your godhood. You're less than human now, defenceless against pollution from the mortal world: it is poisoning you.'

'You… can do that?' I croak up at her. 'Wow. Who knew?'

Carla scowls. 'You're in the same position I'm in from whatever your assassin shot me with: you have just minutes to live.' She crosses her arms. 'So, Vespasian: explain yourself.'

'The dart,' I say, 'it's-'

'I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE DART,' shrieks Carla, making me blink. She closes her eyes, breathes out hard through her nose, then looks down at me again. 'I can see you're not getting this. I'll use small words. Vin: why did you kiss me?'

'Oh,' I say. My mouth has gone dry. 'Ah.'

'Was it a trick?' she asks. 'Just a way to manoeuvre me into position so you could spring your trap?'

Here it is, my last possible chance to stick to the plan. I can still die the way I meant to, without Carla knowing my secret, if-

'Because,' Carla goes on, breaking my chain of thought, 'if you tell me it was, I won't believe you.'

I stare up at her. 'What?'

'You kissed me, Vin,' she says. 'And as you noticed, I kissed you back. I know a real kiss when I feel one. So for the third time of asking: will you please explain yourself?'

'I didn't plan to kiss you,' I blurt. 'I didn't know I was going to do that. I shouldn't have, I know, but I… I'm…'

'Yes?'

Oh, crap. '…I love you.'

There it is. There's the secret I've been keeping.

Carla closes her eyes. 'Thank you.' She sighs. 'Well, while that obviously wasn't enough to stop you killing me again, at least I suppose I can die now knowing there's one lie that won't be standing between us whenever we both reincarnate and have to do this all over again.'