Mark Chadbourn - The Hounds of Avalon

By the time they reached the King of Insects, the creature was in a frenzy. Its massive droning arms thundered, crushing the heads and spines of its own troops as it drove towards the Brothers and Sister of Dragons.

Caitlin was just emerging from the dismembered bodies of two of the Lament-Brood when one of the King’s fists smashed against the side of her head, flinging her yards away. In his peripheral vision, Hunter was convinced that she had been killed by the force of the blow. But a second later she was on her feet, shaking the echoes from her head as she launched herself at the King of Insects in a berserker rage; the Morrigan had come to the fore, raining axe-blows, hacking viciously into the King of Insects’ form.

Hunter lost sight of her as he fought his way around a knot of Lament-Brood. When he surfaced, it was into the path of one of the King of Insects’ gigantic hands. It closed rapidly around his head, hauling him off his feet and high into the air. The memories of the torment he had suffered in Scotland came flooding back. Dry insect bodies squirmed against his face and flies forced their way up his nostrils and into his mouth, the pressure of them increasing inexorably, their buzzing so loud that he thought his head would explode.

And just when he thought his skull would shatter, he was falling. He came down in front of Mallory, whose fiery sword had hacked through the King of Insects’ wrist.

Hunter choked and spat out a mouthful of dead flies. ‘Thanks,’ he croaked, but Mallory was already throwing himself into another furious attack.

The three of them fought for long minutes, circling the King of Insects rapidly. They attacked whenever its defences dropped, while at the same time fighting the Lament-Brood, which not even the Wild Hunt could keep at bay.

With exhaustion creeping up on him, Hunter knew that the end was near. Steeling himself for a final burst of effort, he caught sight of a white flash, like sheet lightning, that appeared to emanate from a street away.

He fought on, wondering if it was some optical illusion caused by the patterns left on his retina by Mallory’s flaming sword, or a sign of even more bizarre weather on the way.

Another flash burst brightly at the end of the street, this time unmistakably lightning. Caitlin launched herself on to the King of Insects’ back, ignoring the stings and bites as she clung on with one hand, chopping relentlessly with her remaining axe. Hunter saw her pause mid-strike, drawn by whatever was taking place further down the street.

Another bolt of lightning seared down from the heavens mere yards away. Hunter was blinded by the flash for a split second, and when his eyes cleared there was a heap of charred Lament-Brood corpses all around. It was a miracle it had missed him.

Then events happened in rapid succession. As he fought, Hunter became aware of Lament-Brood bodies churned up into the air as if struck by a powerful machine. They crashed against walls, rained down into the mass all around, taking more down with them.

Something was coming, tearing through the army like a whirlwind. The King of Insects’ bludgeoning attack kept Hunter fully occupied — swarms of insects engulfed him repeatedly before returning to the central form, and those powerful fists swung down like sledgehammers — but his mind raced with one question: friend or foe? Friend or foe? He was exhausted. They couldn’t fight on three fronts.

Caitlin’s frenzied axe-attacks on the King of Insects started to have results. In several sections, though small, its basic form appeared to be ruptured; insects sprayed out into the freezing air like steam escaping from a pipe.

Mallory’s sword blazed as it took off part of the King of Insects’ ribcage, and in that sapphire illumination, Hunter saw Mallory’s puzzled expression as he glanced once again at what was approaching.

The rain of dismembered Lament-Brood grew more intense and Hunter had to dive out of the way of several falling bodies. His final leap somehow brought him into a position that gave him a good view down the street, and in that instant, he froze, oblivious to the peril all around him, at first not quite believing what he was seeing.

Walking slowly along the street was a single figure: a woman, her face as pale as the snow and terrible in the power and fury it contained. Her dark hair flew all around her head as if caught in a great wind, but her body was untouched by the buffeting. Lightning crashed all around her, and the hurricane-force gales whisked up any member of the Lament-Brood in the vicinity to dash them violently this way and that. She was glorious and untouchable. It was Ruth Gallagher.

Hunter recalled the last time he had seen her in her private ice cavern in Lincoln, devastated, frozen, and wondered what had driven her to cross the barren wastes. Her power stunned him; it was greater than anything he had ever thought could possibly exist in a human.

The King of Insects leaned forward and blasted Hunter with a stream of bees that roared from its mouth like bullets. He dived out of the way, but the few that hit him brought up red welts on his neck.

As he danced backwards and forwards, looking for a way past the King of Insects’ defences, he heard his name called in an insistent, frightened voice. He turned to see Samantha sprinting towards him from the cover of one of the buildings.

‘Go back!’ he yelled, but she wasn’t about to be deterred. He abandoned his attack on the King of Insects and ran towards her. Another of the Lament-Brood broke past the Wild Hunt into Samantha’s path. Hunter reached it just in time, taking off its head with one blow, then hacking through its chest for good measure.

But as he turned back to Samantha to protect her, he just caught a fleeting glimpse of another of the Lament-Brood coming up behind her. He started to call a warning, but it was too late. A spear-head burst out of her chest and her face took on a startled, not-quite-comprehending expression.

Fury and desperate grief fighting for control, Hunter charged forward and dispatched the attacker with brutal ease. He hacked off the spear shaft and Samantha slumped on to her back in the churned-up grey snow. She coughed, and a bubble of blood trickled down her chin.

Hunter’s heart hammered so loudly in his chest that it drowned out all sound of the battle. Ignoring his own safety, he cradled her head. He had seen enough deaths to know that she had little time left, but this was the first one that had affected him so profoundly.

‘You’ve got to get to Hal,’ she said. Her eyes were wide and staring, still not understanding what had happened to her. The shock had eliminated all her pain.

‘Don’t talk,’ he said, though he was really saying it to himself. Don’t talk, don’t think, don’t see what you’re seeing.

‘No,’ she croaked, ‘you don’t understand. Hal’s been arrested…’ Another cough, another bubble of blood. ‘Reid’s got him… trying to frame him. Hunter, they’re going to execute him-’

‘When?’

‘Don’t know. Probably soon-’

‘Is he being held under Brasenose?’

But she was already gone. Hunter scooped her up in his arms and ran to the edge of the street, where he placed her gently in a doorway. He allowed himself one last look at her, but no emotion. Then he bounded back into the fray as if nothing had happened. ‘We have to wrap this up quickly,’ he yelled to Mallory.

The King of Insects was sagging now. Mallory took out another chunk of torso, releasing a further cloud of flies and wasps. They buzzed briefly before dying in the cold.

‘Why?’ Mallory gasped. ‘You just want to spoil the fun.’

‘We’ve got to stop them from killing Hal. If they do, it’s all over.’

Mallory eyed him curiously. ‘Is he the fifth?’