Adelaida sprang into battle against the transformed Valgwyn. She swung her staff, and one end shot out, extending on a magical chain. The weighted cylinder struck hard against Valgwyn’s chest, and he was knocked back a pace. But he didn’t seem hurt, and a moment later, his shadowy wings had fully grown in, and they beat once, twice, three times with awesome power. Adelaida retracted her chain and braced herself against the heavy gusts.
Up went Valgwyn, soaring into the sky. But he didn’t go unopposed. Camellia pulled back on her bowstring, firing one, two, three cerulean arrows that flew straight and true, a spiral of magical water shimmering in their wake. Valgwyn knocked two arrows off-course with a mighty beat of his wings, but the third struck, piercing his black, segmented armor dead-center in the stomach. Valgwyn winced then, in pain, but he swiftly pulled the arrow out and tossed it aside. Black blood dripped from the wound — but not much. Not enough for how deeply the arrow had pierced him.
The wound closed itself, Valgwyn healing all on his own.
“Your efforts are in vain,” Valgwyn said, sneering, twisting the burned side of his face in a grotesque visage. His personality had transformed with his body, the slothful, annoyed demeanor of before gone. He took aim, and Adelaida, Hayden, Camellia, and Botan braced for the loosing of his arrow.
They all knew what to watch and listen for. They had all heard the stories and done their research. Valgwyn’s arrows could not be easily gauged by sight. They needed to listen, and be patient, ready for the launching of that black, three-pronged missile.
The sound came, the loosing of the bowstring sounding before there was any visible evidence of Valgwyn firing. Adelaida and Botan both leapt at once in front of Camellia, twirling their weapons in warding strikes. The arrow was deflected, knocked several feet away to strike into the ground of the park, sinking into the fertile soil.
“Don’t think she’s the only one who can hit you!” Hayden said, leaping dozens of feet into the air, his blazing red sword flashing. Even from a distance, Adelaida felt the heat of his weapon, but only for a moment. As he launched himself towards Valgwyn, the heat that blasted around in all directions suddenly was sucked away, all meeting at his sword, concentrating itself in a tightly condensed blade of fire and heat.
Although Valgwyn had wings, and full freedom in the air, Hayden’s leap was swift and true, anticipating Valgwyn’s movements. They met in the air, and the slash of his sword let loose such a startling burst of fire and light that Adelaida’s specialized glasses immediately darkened to protect her eyes — and obscured the result of Hayden’s attack from view. Beside her, she heard a faint chuckle. “There’s our favorite sunburst,” Botan murmured.
The blinding light faded, and Adelaida watched Hayden land neatly back on the ground in front of the three of them. He flicked his blade to the side, excess fire splashing off like watery droplets, dissipating before they struck the ground. His sword still burned, but it was now more of a smolder, controlled and patient, waiting for its next opportunity to attack.
And farther out, nearly twenty yards away, Valgwyn came dropping out of the sky, trailing thick black smoke in his wake. He flipped, landing in a crouch with a fierce snarl, dark eyes glinting in a ferocious glare directed at Hayden. His armor and wings smoked, and quite a few feathers were missing — with more dropping that very moment, crumbling to ash when they touched the ground.
“Nice hit,” Botan said, nodding his approval.
“Fire worked for Chelsea,” Hayden said, remaining on guard and focused on his enemy. “I was hoping mine would be just as effective.”
Valgwyn started to stand again, started to flap his wings to take off, but a half-dozen cerulean arrows came whistling towards him, each one singing a different tone to harmonize with the rest. Valgwyn batted one away with his bow, and a second with an arrow held in his other hand, but the other four arrows struck, two punching through his armor at the chest, one glancing off of a metal bracer, and the third sinking deep into his thigh, right through a gap between armored segments. Valgwyn howled, dropping to one knee.
Adelaida and Botan went on the attack. Both leapt, twirling their weapons, Adelaida’s silver staff gleaming, Botan’s blue-and-silver tonfas crackling with cobalt-blue electricity. Valgwyn raised his bow in time to block their attacks, but he buckled under the force of their strikes. He used that momentum to his advantage, however, falling back and beating his wings. Adelaida and Botan backed off, and then deflected a pair of arrows from Valgwyn into the ground. Valgwyn gained some height, but his smoldering, crumbling wings couldn’t bear his weight, and he tumbled back down to the earth, crushing beautiful purple flowers under his feet.
Camellia’s arrows that had struck Valgwyn fell away, forced out by his self-healing wounds. His wings were also starting to recover, new feathers growing to replace those he’d lost. But not all of them. There were some smoldering portions of his wings that remained that way, any attempts at new growths immediately crumbling to ash and floating away.
“His confidence didn’t last long,” Botan said.
“Why did he come alone?” Adelaida asked, softly, barely loud enough for Botan to hear. “He must have known this place would be too well-defended. He must have some other purpose here.”
A crackling voice sounded in the communications device in Adelaida’s ear. “Adelaida, can you… we’re experiencing… anyone?” It was Alexandra’s voice, but it came through in fragments, such that Adelaida couldn’t piece together what she’d tried to say.
“My lady?” Adelaida asked, a hand to her comm device. It hadn’t been damaged, so why wasn’t it functioning correctly?
“There’s no… can you…” Fragments, again, not enough to know what was being said.
And then, through the static, came Deirdre Greyson’s voice, clear for one word: “Interference.”
Adelaida’s eyes widened. She deflected another arrow from Valgwyn, but while Botan and Hayden leapt to the attack, she stayed where she was.
She watched the arrow.
It flew away from her, darting low until it struck into the soil. There, beside a flower bed, it sank a few inches in, its three prongs, like those of a pitchfork, fully submerging themselves in the fertile soil.
And then, from that point of contact, little black tendrils began to web outward. Tiny black veins, they didn’t go far, but formed a little web around the arrow. And Adelaida could guess further what was happening.
They were roots. And roots went far deeper than they did outward.
She spun around, looking to each and every arrow Valgwyn had launched, every one of which had been deflected by herself or Botan, every one of which had ended up sunk into the soil of the park that sprawled out before Alexandra’s mansion.
Every one of those arrows also had a small web of inky black tendrils around them, evidence of the roots they were growing beneath the soil. And every moment, those little roots were growing just a tiny bit further.
Interference.
Adelaida looked back at Valgwyn. He was rallying, doing a better job of keeping his distance from the three Paladins. He launched three more arrows, which Botan and Hayden skillfully deflected… only for them to pierce the ground wherever they landed and start their work planting roots. Even when they struck the stone pathways throughout the park, they pierced those hard stones, planting roots wherever they ended up. One spun end over end, finally splashing into a fountain — and there it struck beneath the water, through the stone, starting to put down roots even there.
That’s what he’s here for. If he can break into my lady’s home, if he can harm or kill us, so much the better. But he isn’t here to hurt us.
He’s here to break up our communications.
Adelaida shot out one end of her staff, wrapping its chain around one of the planted arrows. She pulled, but even with a mighty heave, she couldn’t make the arrow budge. It had taken hold and would not be uprooted.
Will killing him make his arrows vanish? We can’t count on that.
So then how…
Adelaida watched as Hayden leapt into battle again. Valgwyn had an arrow to the string, but when Hayden’s blazing sword came down and exploded in a fiery sunburst…
The arrow that Valgwyn had set to his bowstring was destroyed, its charred remains wafting away with the wind.
“Hayden!” Adelaida called out. “Come here!”
Hayden landed neatly, leapt out of the way of an incoming arrow, and then dashed back to Adelaida, Botan covering his retreat.
“What is it?” he asked.
Adelaida pointed out the arrows that had taken root, explaining the danger they posed. “Can you destroy them with your fire?” she asked.
“It’s worth a shot,” Hayden said. He approached the nearest arrow, his smoldering blade flickering to life. A slash, and scarlet fire shot forward, a concentrated blast that engulfed the arrow and the veins of roots webbing out from it. A moment later, the flames extinguished — and the arrow was gone. Ash wafted up, blown away by the breeze. A tiny hole was left behind, and up from it rose a plume of smoke, signifying the damage done below.
Hayden spun in a slow circle, counting the arrows that had taken root. “It’ll take time,” he said, “and I’ll need to go faster than he shoots — or you’ll have to lock down his firing. But I can get rid of them.”
“Please do,” Adelaida said. Hayden nodded once, and then was off, racing for the next arrow.
“We need to keep him from firing?” Camellia asked. She was closest to them, keeping her distance and firing away at Valgwyn, but even so, she hadn’t seemed close enough to overhear their conversation. She was clearly observant and aware of what was going on around her.
“As best we can,” Adelaida said. She sprinted forward, quickly passed the word along to Botan, and then leapt into battle. Her staff and its chains would come in especially useful in restricting Valgwyn’s movements and attacks. Even if the Son of Night rallied, she was onto him now. They all were.
She just hoped they weren’t too late to make a difference.
——
Chelsea’s hair fluttered as one of her fiery darts exploded, its hot wind gusting against her face. Nyx leapt back, deterred but, frustratingly, unhurt by the close-quarters blast. There was something about that staff of hers that let her completely escape damage from even the most wide and wild of fiery explosions just by twirling it around.
I was able to turn it to ash last time we met. She got an upgrade. A stupid, fireproof upgrade.
Loathe as she was to admit it, it was fascinating to watch Nyx work. She had tremendous strength and speed, astonishing acrobatic skills, and an uncanny ability to know when an attack was coming, even if it seemed to have been launched at her from a blind spot. This old soul trapped in an ageless child’s body had been off-putting to her — to everyone, really — when they’d first met. It was instinctual to hesitate to attack a child. Even when Chelsea got over that, it still took time for her to be willing to fire away full-force against Nyx.
Thankfully, Nyx made it easy to want to roast her. She was malicious, rotten to the core. She was always taunting her opponents, laughing that stupid, annoying, sing-song laugh whenever she escaped another attack unscathed. She talked so easily about killing people’s loved ones in the most gruesome manner possible.
And she’d killed Mister Midnight’s parents. He’d been robbed of his parents’ love too young, just like Chelsea.
Once all those pieces fell into place, Chelsea had no trouble going all-out against Nyx. She’d gleefully orphaned Caleb’s teacher, and she was perfectly willing to orphan a thousand more people if she got the chance.
That was why, given the choice between fighting the Beast or Nyx herself, Chelsea went after the child.
Besides, Midnight was handling the Beast. It was a particularly fraught conflict, and Midnight got quite a bit of help from others tagging in for brief spells — Hagen and Mercedes Rook served up some very timely blocks to give Midnight a breather, and both Jackson and Artemis fired off some shots to briefly cripple or stun the Beast.
And Chelsea wasn’t alone against Nyx. Caleb was right by her side, though he was clearly frustrated — their usual teamwork of Caleb chaining up foes for Chelsea to burn up with ease wasn’t coming together, as Nyx was just too good at evading Caleb’s chains. But things were starting to turn around. Will was gauging Nyx’s abilities with careful uses of his gravity manipulation, forming small gravity wells here and there to test her, not fully committing to the attacks just yet. And Lorelei and Gwen were limiting Nyx’s movements with sudden ice walls, slick coating on Nyx’s landing sites, a regular barrage of icy projectiles, cleverly hidden silver thread, and skillful swordsmanship. Gwen was the only one who went in for close-quarters combat with Nyx, her needle sword against Nyx’s staff, and she made a good showing of it. None of them were going to defeat Nyx alone.
But then, none of them came in expecting to win a fight alone. Hunters, after all, worked in teams.
It was challenging to focus on this fight. They’d come here, to the Throne of Night, for a battle against Sal. Nyx hadn’t been part of the plan. She hadn’t been part of Sal’s plan, either, apparently. But even so, she was here, and they needed to deal with her. She was fixated on the Time Mages, and they needed space and, well, time if they were going to create the Time Prison and properly seal Sal’s fate.
Nyx needed to go. So Chelsea did her best to ignore the Lord of Night on his throne down below, to ignore the many other brave and powerful fighters giving their all against him. That wasn’t her fight, not yet. Not until Nyx was down and out.
Chelsea launched a torrent of flame, and Nyx batted it away like it was something solid. Nyx ducked a chain from Caleb, sidestepped an icy spear from Lorelei, leapt over a trip wire laid by Gwen, and broke free of another slight gravity well from Will.
The five of them moved to surround Nyx, cognizant of the three-dimensional space they needed to cover. Chelsea and Caleb remained on Nyx’s level, while Gwen and Will were below, and Lorelei above, all of them spread out, forming a loose sphere, a snare that they would tighten when the time was right. Nyx laughed, dashing straight towards Caleb, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
Caleb ducked, bounced her back with a Mobility disc, but she spun, landed neatly on a small, floating piece of rubble, and pushed off of that straight towards Chelsea. Flames roared, but Nyx burst straight through them, swinging her staff for Chelsea’s head. Chelsea ducked, and then Caleb pulled her back just as Nyx spun around in a sweeping kick that narrowly missed Chelsea’s back. Nyx’s bare heel struck the pillar they were on with enough force to crack the sturdy stone. Her next kick shattered a Mobility disc, but was caught by a pair of silver threads that wrapped and tightened around her ankle. Her eyes flashed as she looked aside, where Gwen stood, hands skillfully pulling the threads taut. A quick jerk, up and then around, and Nyx was sent spinning end over end. Gwen released the threads and leapt back just as Nyx swiped at her with her staff, evading the blow.
“Clever, clever, clever!” Nyx said, laughing. “The tailor has some bite! But my Beast has a better bite. I think I’ll feed you to him.”
Nyx, flung end over end, recovered quickly, of course. She leapt off another piece of rubble, back towards them, but the time Caleb and Chelsea’s team had spent fighting Nyx so far was paying off. They were noticing patterns in her movements, particularly Gwen, Lorelei, and Will, the more tactically-minded of them. When Nyx came charging back in, a series of cleverly-placed ice walls forced her one way, then the other, darting out the other side just before a pair of walls would have closed in on her. Chelsea was on-target, firing a few shrieking missiles of flame Nyx’s way. Nyx blocked them, they exploded, and she emerged from those explosions unscathed. Of course.
But Chelsea smiled. Nyx had jumped the way she wanted her to, and an instant later…
The trap was complete.
Will brought forth a gravity trap, and this wasn’t a slight increase, a little tug to test her strength, no. This time he showed what he was really capable of. It wasn’t just power, like he’d used before to hold down Bronn in the fight for Grimoire, or the Beast in Morispé Vale. Here he brought forth multiple separate gravity wells from multiple sides. When Nyx moved to break free…
She couldn’t.
Her momentum entirely arrested, she was pulled from all directions, caught in a trap with no physical components. Nothing to break, nothing to grab, nothing to fight.
She was frozen. And even if she tried to move her staff into a guarding position, she couldn’t. Her arms and legs were pulled out straight, and though her muscles strained against the force, she wasn’t strong enough to defeat it.
“What did you… ah, I see,” Nyx said, and though her voice was taut with effort, she smiled, and then laughed.
“A brave face to the bitter end?” Chelsea asked.
“Brave?” Nyx asked. “What makes you use such a word for me?”
“Oh, whatever,” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like we need a conversation.” She raised her lighters, taking aim not at Nyx, but at the staff Talisman in her hand.
“You’d wrench my darling Beast away from me a second time?” Nyx asked. “Wicked, wretched girl. You’re too cruel. You would have fit right in with the rest of us.”
Chelsea glared. A momentary vision shot through her mind, an image of her Other, standing alongside Sal and Nyx.
And it was her turn to smile, even to chuckle just a little. “Yeah, no,” she said. “Even if I let my dark side out, she wouldn’t work with you. She’d take that throne for herself.”
Nyx burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s perfect!” she said. “I knew you were different from the rest of them! Boyish Caleb there would try to rehabilitate me; he’s far too soft for his own good. I don’t know how someone as strong and independent as you ended up with a weak little —”
But Nyx’s taunt was cut off by a pair of shrieking, fiery missiles that exploded against her staff. A crack formed down its length, evidence that its fireproof nature was at least partially dependent on Nyx wielding it in active defense. Chelsea glared at the eternal child. “Don’t act like you know me,” she said. “And don’t you dare belittle Caleb. He’s better than you’ll ever know.”
“Thanks,” Caleb said, grinning.
Chelsea launched another pair of fiery missiles, and these got the job done. Nyx’s staff exploded in her hands, and far above them an anguished, lonely howl erupted, then slowly faded away.
The Beast was gone, its connection to Nyx severed once more.
“Wretched little fire witch,” Nyx said, still smiling, but there was venom in her eyes. “Now what? Burn me up, too? I can see that you want to.”
“There’s someone else who has dibs on your life,” Chelsea said, lowering her lighters.
Caleb raised his pocket watch. A Mobility disc shimmered to life just outside of the gravity trap, and Midnight landed neatly atop it, facing Nyx, a short, curved sword in either hand.
“So, here we are at last, Lancelot,” Nyx said. The venom faded from her eyes, and the mischievous, malicious, childlike glee returned. “My life is yours, hmm? Vengeance for your parents at long last.”
“Something like that,” Midnight said. “What, no regrets? No fear? You’re awfully chipper for someone whose life is about to end. And your ‘Lord’ isn’t even raising a hand to defend you.”
“I would never ask him to,” Nyx said. “I’d hate for him to waste any strength on rescuing me.”
Midnight sighed, pointing one sword at Nyx. It quivered slightly, just grazing the edge of the gravity trap. “The murders across Clockworks,” he said. “Was that your idea, too? Or a mission from the Radiant King?”
“Oh, that?” Nyx asked. She managed to bring her head forward just an inch, grinning wickedly up at Midnight. “I was bored. And that was such a lovely way to find some fun in this endless existence.”
“Vengeance cools,” Midnight said. “I didn’t expect it, but it does. More than anything, I’m here now to finish what we started so long ago. Its time I finally closed the case on the Beast Murders.”
“I’m all yours, detective,” Nyx said with a dramatic sigh.
“Any regrets?” Midnight asked.
Nyx grinned. “No,” she said.
Midnight’s sword flashed. Thrusting directly through the heart of the gravity trap, finding that tiny seam through which the blade would fit, the midnight-blue blade found its way to Nyx’s chest, and pierced her heart.
Nyx’s eyes widened. Her smile didn’t fade. “It was… a good… life…” she murmured. Then, with a sigh, she closed her eyes.
Midnight pulled his sword free. Will brought down the gravity trap.
Nyx fell, limp and lifeless. Down, down, down, into the endless night far below.
For a moment, time stood still. Chelsea looked at Midnight, at the man who’d finally avenged his parents, who’d finally put an end to the murderer who’d terrorized his home city.
There wasn’t joy in his posture, or in his eyes. There was something more like relief. And in his bearing, he stood a little straighter. As if a great weight had finally been lifted.
Midnight turned back towards them. “Thank you,” he said. Then he fixed his eyes on Caleb. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” Caleb said. He reached out his hand, and Midnight dismissed his swords, reaching out in return.
Just as their hands were about to touch…
An explosion. A shockwave, ripping up and out through the Throne of Night, too sudden and fierce to avoid.
A wave of Darkness. Chelsea barely had a chance to grab Caleb’s hand before she was thrown, and Caleb with her. This was similar to the wave that had thrown her in the Library of Solitude, but exponentially more powerful. She barely kept her grip on Caleb, felt like she was being crushed, felt like her arms were being ripped out of their sockets. She tried to look, tried to see if Caleb and Midnight had reached each other, but there was nothing.
Nothing but Darkness.