A knife flashed through the air, cutting a path toward the Spider Queen. She disengaged from her meal, using the lifeless corpse as a shield to impede the blade. Lieutenant Davey used the distraction to haul himself up from his prone position and charged at the foe. Pulling twin hatchets from his belt, Davey slid beneath the corpse of Beaumont, which the Spider Queen had thrown towards him. His cry was a primal sound of merciless threat.
Cypher had once explained that the efficacy of weapons depended on the electrical conductivity of the metal. The more conductive a metal, the more effective the weapon. So, a silver dagger would be far more dangerous to a sprite than a lead bullet. Davey didn’t care about Cypher’s technical explanation. To him, there was something more mythological to hand weapons, making them the perfect instruments for vanquishing these demons. Arthur had his sword, Thor had his hammer, and Raam had his axe. It didn’t matter to Davey if these characters were real or not. He drew strength from their stories, passed down from antiquity, to guide and empower his strikes. He would ensure that the party lived so they could tell the story of Davey the Avenger. He would help create a new mythology for the next generation.
Shifting into a forward leap, the lieutenant brought his hatchets to bear against the Spider Queen. The head of each hatchet had been personally scrimshawed with circuitry script by Cypher the Runelord to enhance their conductivity and make them deadlier. One axe bit deep into the sprite’s arm, nearly severing it at the wrist. Davey twisted with the momentum and lashed out with a backhanded swing intended to decapitate the monster. The Spider Queen folded in and fell backward, avoiding the death blow. She inverted her limbs to land as a disgusting parody of her namesake before skittering away several feet to create distance between herself and the berserker.
Davey was having none of it. He leapt again, mounting the creature like some demented horse. Striking over and over, he could see where the sprite was beginning to dematerialize around the sites of the axe wounds.
The creature dropped to the ground. Lieutenant Davey leaned forward, seeking its head. Seeking a killing blow. Then, he considered if this behavior was some kind of ruse. He was correct. A lashing limb darted backward, the black-tipped claw piercing Davey through his right shoulder blade. A second limb whipped around, catching Davey in the left flank. He heard the internal crunch of breaking bones and felt the air being driven from his lungs. He was lifted bodily from the monster and sailed ten feet through the air. Landing heavily, Davey struggled to push away the pain. His body also struggled to move, taking longer to respond to the commands being sent from his brain than Davey needed.
If Davey felt fear, he did not show it. The berserker clambered back to his feet. He wobbled slightly, then spread his legs into a wider stance for support. He felt the blood seeping from the wound in his back, soaking into the fabric of his uniform. Groaning with pain, Davey curled his left arm to protect his shattered ribs. The Spider Queen rose too, slowly turning to focus her fury on the lieutenant. She was scorn manifest. Five of her six powerful arms were bunched into tight striking poses. Her mangled arm had shriveled into a useless appendage at her side.
No words were exchanged as the dueling pair gazed at each other, like beasts sizing one another before a meal. Marshall was yelling something, but Davey could not hear her over the sound of rushing blood in his ears. He bared his teeth. The Spider Queen hissed through raised fangs.
A wave of black fire streaked across the floor of the concourse, coming from the stairs that led up to the train platforms. The Spider Queen turned, too late, to avoid the magic and was consumed by the conflagration. She twisted and whirled as she burned, spreading the black flame quicker across her body. Where the fire touched, the sprite quickly dematerialized, leaving little but a digitized death-shriek, an empty promise of pain and vengeance.
Lieutenant Davey turned toward the newcomer, expecting to find an unfamiliar magus who had interrupted his battle. It was not a magus, nor a human, but another sprite. It stood a little over six feet tall, its dark body and limbs obfuscated by a facsimile of gothic fashion. It held a rapier that burned with wicked black fire in one gloved hand and wore a ragged cape that shimmered from darkest midnight to moonlight blue. Its head was a plain mask with slits for eyes and a mouth, pinched into short horns at the top. One horn was bare, glinting black bone beneath the fluorescent lights, while a short red ribbon was tied to the other.
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"Hollow Knight, Level twenty-nine Abyssal apparition," chimed Cypher’s MetaTEC. Davey ignored the other information from the device. Wincing with pain, Davey the Avenger positioned himself to face this new threat. However, he did not like his chances against this one.
“Stop!” yelled the Warlock. “Stand down, she is friendly!”
The death of the Spider Queen had also caused the web entombing the party to dematerialize. Now freed, Cypher and his Rune Guard hurried to their feet to support their injured ally. The sheer absurdity of the Warlock’s words unsettled Davey, who turned his head towards the magus and said, “You what, mate?”
His uncertainty was shared by the rest of the party, Cypher included.
“She is a friend. That Hollow Knight is a friend of mine. She is on our side.”
“How do you know?” Captain Marshall barked at the Warlock. She still had not given the order for her team to stand down.
“The red ribbon on her. I tied it after we took Canterbury together.”
The pair locked eyes, and Marshall could see the sincerity in the magus. She had heard the stories, including Cypher’s own speculation at what had occurred during the retaking of Canterbury, and concluded that the Warlock was not lying about the Hollow Knight.
“Stand back to full vigilance,” she commanded. Uneasily, the Rune Guard followed her order.
The Hollow Knight sauntered down the stairs, sheathing her sword and extinguishing the black fire. She crossed the concourse to stand before Davey. He watched her like a wounded predator, ready to strike at the faintest hint of betrayal.
“My apologies, warrior,” said the Hollow Knight, bowing. “I did not intend to steal your kill. However, given that you would not be rewarded with experience, I thought it prudent to intervene.” Her tone was soft but edged with confident power. Davey did not take this act of contrition well.
“I should cleave your bloody skull apart,” he snarled through gritted teeth.
“That would be most unfortunate,” she said, standing back to full height. “For if you intend to succeed with your quest in London, your party will need my assistance.”
The pair stared at each other for a long moment, before a sickening pop and a yelp from Cooper broke the tension.
“You right there, Coop?” asked Davey, disengaging from the Hollow Knight and shuffling towards his stricken compatriot.
Cooper nodded in affirmation before saying, “All is good, my friend. Turner here was a little heavy-handed getting my dislocated shoulder back in place, is all.”
Turner, the party’s de facto medic, looked somewhat affronted at the accusation. However, she quickly forgot Cooper’s complaints and began bustling towards the more severely hurt lieutenant.
“We cannot stay here long, Captain,” Cypher said with authority.
“Agreed. Make it quick, Turner. We’re out in three minutes. I will tend to Beaumont’s body.”
“I have prepared a safe point further up the track,” said the Hollow Knight, walking towards the Captain. “It would prove a better location to tend to the wounded and answer any outstanding questions,” she added, facing Cypher and the Warlock.
Sid looked at her with equal parts astonishment and intense curiosity. Warren was more confused about how the Hollow Knight had found him but greatly relieved that she had.
“Long time no see,” he said to his strange companion.
“I suppose it has been. Time is still an unfamiliar concept to me,” she said, cocking her head slightly as if puzzling out the meaning of something completely foreign. “We should not waste too much time here, though, as we have much to discuss.”
Warren nodded, the initial shock of seeing her again giving way to the pressing urgency of their situation. “You’re right. Let’s move.”
Turner worked quickly, her hands moving with practiced efficiency as she bandaged Davey's wounds and checked the others for any immediate concerns. The Rune Guard gathered their gear, ready to move out.
Captain Marshall, finishing her solemn task of preparing Beaumont’s body for transport, rose and gave the signal. The party moved in a tight formation, with the Hollow Knight leading the way. As they made their way up the track, the air grew tense with unspoken questions and the weight of their recent battle.