The Hornet's Nest: Part 9

In all her years as a spy, Caolinn had never seen anyone escape from captivity as quickly as Darr did. The cell holding him was somewhat makeshift, true, but its bars were sturdy enough, and it should have taken at least a few minutes for him to cut through the vines that held the door closed. Instead, with both the Valiants and the Order distracted, and Caolinn herself unsure whether to intervene, he stepped into a back corner of the cage, and the next moment was outside it.

Caolinn scowled at him. “It was a clone in the cage all that time.”

Darr gave her an enigmatic smile. “I suppose it might have been. Never mind that, though. We have work to do.”

Indeed, the whole camp had descended into chaos. Caolinn turned to find a battlefield already forming at the northern gate, the Valiants arrayed in a loose line against a party of sylvari who looked far better equipped and more determined than their opponents. The southern gate, despite being strengthened by the nearest Order Agents, looked scarcely better defended. Worst of all, Caolinn couldn’t deny that the attackers looked very much like Nightmare Court – which meant Darr had been right.

Before he could dive into the fight, Caolinn grabbed his arm. “Are you honestly telling me that Lightbringer Nairne doesn’t have anything to do with the Inquest?”

“Unless you count being their sworn enemy, I don’t think so.” Darr’s expression was so full of pity that Caolinn drew back. “The Inquest have never taken an interest in her, though – she’s no real threat to them. The Nightmare Court, on the other hand…”

Even as Caolinn watched, Nairne appeared, Mala on one side and Hixx on the other. They strode towards the northern gate, pushing past the ragged line of Valiants to throw themselves into the fight.

Darr sighed. “I do wish she wouldn’t make life so easy for them.”

He headed towards the northern gate, and this time Caolinn followed. It was difficult to make much sense of the scrum, the Valiants calling frantic warnings to one another and the Nightmare Court attacking in near-silence. As Caolinn reached for her own daggers, she finally realised what Darr feared: the Court, far from attacking at random, had a target in mind.

Caolinn cursed under her breath. She hadn’t wanted to believe it – she’d followed Darr out of habit and little else – but it seemed he was right again. The Nightmare Court had Nairne in their sights.

That didn’t mean they were going to leave the rest of the camp alone, though. Caolinn swung past a struggling Valiant to plant a dagger in the neck of the nearest Nightmare Courtier, only to run right into another. The second Courtier swung an axe, the blade sweeping past Caolinn’s head. She ducked, daggers crossed defensively as her minions writhed into being, launching themselves at the man’s back. He went down with a grunt of pain, allowing Caolinn to bound free.

She spun away from the fight, trying to give herself an opening, but it was impossible to get out of the melee. Courtiers rose up around her on all sides, and when Caolinn tried to disengage, she nearly tripped over the body of a fallen Valiant. With a sinking feeling, she parried a blow from one side, then the other. Without reinforcements, this wasn’t a fight they could win.

A shout turned Caolinn’s head: Darr, calling her name. He was in the thick of the fighting around the gate, holding three Courtiers at bay with clones. Nairne was only a few paces away; Mala seemed to have been separated from her, and Hixx had vanished entirely. The Lightbringer was alone.

And the Nightmare Court had seen their advantage. A group pressed in from one side, making straight for Nairne with weapons outstretched. It quickly became clear they wanted the Lightbringer alive, though. Caolinn pushed back the foes around herself, just long enough to see Nairne beset by a barrage of spells. The Lightbringer kept her feet for one heartbeat, then another, only to abruptly disappear from view.

“Caolinn!” Darr, again. This time, Caolinn responded. Daggers flashing and minions gathered at her feet, she carved a path to the mesmer’s side. Not stopping for breath, they plunged onward together, straight towards Nairne – or where she’d last been, at least.

The Lightbringer was nowhere to be seen. The Courtiers were swarming like wasps on rotten fruit, far more of them than Caolinn had believed possible. This raid must have been weeks in the making – or was this simply how powerful the Nightmare Court were? A shiver ran down Caolinn’s spine as she ducked behind one of Darr’s clones, Darr himself forging ahead without her. Even Nairne hadn’t known she was coming to Mount Maelstrom more than a week ago. How could the Nightmare Court have gathered such numbers in that time – and who had told them the Order was coming?

Her concentration was shattered by a greatsword whistling overhead. Caolinn neatly sidestepped, claws of magic snapping from her outstretched hand to catch the Courtier across the chest. He went down in a heap, legs tangled beneath him – and there, quite suddenly, was Torwen.

For a moment, Caolinn couldn’t breathe. Torwen. What was he doing here? She blinked several times, but it really was him, not a clone or an illusion. He was armoured, a greatsword of his own propped across his shoulder as casually as if it was a toothpick. A helmet shadowed his eyes, but beneath it, he was smiling.

Caolinn’s first instinct was to attack; her second was to flee. Conflicting thoughts whirred in her mind. If Torwen was here, did that mean she’d been right after all? Surely he’d come to fight the Inquest, just like he’d promised.

Which meant Nairne truly was an Inquest spy.

“You’ll keep your friends out of the way, if you know what’s good for them.” Torwen was still smiling; the words echoed only in Caolinn’s mind. She glanced sideways, saw Darr on one side behind a line of clones, Mala on the other, sheltering herself and a fallen Hixx with her guardian’s shield. Most of the Valiants had either fallen themselves or retreated; Nairne was nowhere to be seen.

“You’re here for Nairne?” Caolinn asked. She edged sideways, keeping a collapsed Courtier between herself and Torwen.

Torwen must have seen what she was doing – his smile broadened. “Who else? Though I wouldn’t be averse to taking your little friend Darr, too, if he gets in my way. That one’s been a thorn in my side for far too long.”

Caolinn shook her head. Darr had never worked against the Nightmare Court, as far as she knew. He was committed to the protection of Tyria, though; maybe he’d crossed paths with Torwen. If they were enemies, though, Caolinn knew she couldn’t take both sides. Which of them was right about Nairne? Who could she trust?

Finally, Caolinn caught sight of the Lightbringer. Nairne lay only a short distance away, surrounded by a group of Courtiers. Their weapons were sheathed, replaced by binding vines and what looked like a stretcher. Preparing to carry Nairne away.

Caolinn shuddered. “What are you going to do with her?”

Torwen’s smile hadn’t faded. “That’s none of your concern. Why should you even care? She’s just one fewer Inquest spy for you to root out of the Order of Whispers. I’m doing your job for you, Caolinn, and I’m offering the rest of you mercy. Be grateful.”

Gratitude was the last thing Caolinn felt in that moment, but there was a tickle in her chest that felt almost like relief. It was clear the Nightmare Court were getting ready to withdraw – and they were leaving her, Darr, and most of the camp alive. Giving up Nairne was a small price to pay. Unless…

Unless Darr was right, and Nairne wasn’t an Inquest spy after all.

Before she could think past her indecision, Torwen had begun to retreat. He reached the entrance to the camp a few paces behind the group carrying Nairne. Darr gave a shout, trying to rally the Valiants to his side, but there were too few still on their feet to answer. He took several steps forward but didn’t attack, his frustration evident. Both he and Caolinn knew that the two of them weren’t enough to take on the remaining Courtiers, whose numbers seemed endless. If Torwen wanted to take Nairne, all they could do was watch.

The stretcher-bearers vanished around the outside of the camp’s wall. Torwen paused, a line of watchful Courtiers behind him, still guarding the camp’s entrance. He seemed to study the remaining defenders for a moment, head tilted slightly to one side. Caolinn felt her breath catch as he raised one hand, holding it still a moment as though thinking – and then brought it down.

So much for mercy.

The Nightmare Court’s attack was swift and brutal. Caolinn had no chance to see where Torwen had disappeared to – all she could do was defend herself. Her daggers weaved a net of magic, minions rising in a protective cordon around her feet, but within half a minute she knew it wasn’t enough. There were too few Valiants left standing, and there had been too few Order Agents in the first place. They were going to be overwhelmed.

She fought through the press to Darr’s side, and was about to take a position back-to-back with him when his head swivelled to the south. Too distracted to follow his gaze, still Caolinn heard the warhorn, cutting through the air like a clap of thunder. She would have thought it the rallying cry of the already victorious Nightmare Court, if the sylvari around them hadn’t hesitated, and Darr’s face hadn’t suddenly split into a grin.

Several of the Courtiers fell back, allowing Caolinn’s minions to bring them to the ground. She paused, daggers twirling, just long enough to hear Darr’s soft laugh. “Perfect timing as always, Amber,” he murmured, barely loud enough to hear.

Before Caolinn could question him, to ask if she’d really heard what she thought she’d heard, the camp exploded into chaos once again. She readied herself for more Nightmare Court, but this time the arrivals were something else entirely. Against all the odds, help had arrived.