Deathwatch: Warrior Coven Part 8

aThe council was divided on this, Dhrykna. I can understand your concerns, but you must believe that we have exorcised them already. There were some who did not want to involve the mon-keigh in our business, even at this time of great need. There were some who would rather have perished than entrusted anything to the clumsy and ignorant humans. But, plans were laid long ago, plans beyond even the collective wisdom of the Seer Council today. Lord Ulthran himself stands as the composer, and we merely dance to the subtle music of his symphony. Your part in this is clear to us, and we would be telling an untruth if we told you that this whole affair does not rest on your shoulders. The Shining Spear will flash through the darkness once again, and your soul will dance in the glory of its light. The mon-keigh are a blunt instrument, but the spear is rapid and precise. Without you, they will fumble in the darkness. And without them, Ulthwe is lost.a aThere is no need for you to convince me, Eldressyn of Ulthroon. I cannot hide my heart from you, and I will make no attempt to do so. I have no desire to accompany the primitives, but, on your command, it will be done. Might I ask just one question of you?a aYou might.a Eldressyn did not smile, but her face was clear of hostility.

aWhy just me and Shariele of the Lost Souls? Why not a squad of Black Guardians or a detachment from the Dark Reapers?a Because this honour falls into the path of your future, Shining Spear. The thoughts of Thaeaakzi slid quickly into Dhryknaas mind, before Eldressyn had the chance to answer her. There is no other around whom the currents of time swirl with such pristine clarity, and thus no other to whom we may entrust this task.

Dhrykna bowed her head once again. aAs you wish, Emerald Seer.a Do not think that I believe you have answered my question, she thought, only half hiding her thoughts from the seer. In that moment, the Shining Spear realised that even though she knew that she could not trust the mon-keigh, she should also be careful about the words of the seers; their ways were far more treacherous than those of the warriors.

As the Lance of Darkness fired its engines and blasted out of Calmainocas dock, Octavius thought that he could feel its machine-spirit heave a ma.s.sive sigh of relief, as though it were emerging from under a huge weight of resistance. The atmosphere on the control deck lightened and the tension that had been growing between the Marines in the rest of the vessel seemed to ease slightly.

While the rest of the team administered to their armour and weapons in the armoury, Octavius and Atreus watched the main viewscreens on the control deck reorient to a rear-facing scene. The incredible structure of Ulthwe was accelerating away from them, bathed in the distortion of discharge from the Lance of Darknessas engines, which were firing at nearly maximum capacity. Both the ship and the pilot-serfs wanted to get away from the craftworld as quickly as they could, it seemed. Despite the rapid acceleration, Ulthwe dominated the screen for a long time, obliterating the light of the stars and looming like a ma.s.sive, intricate monolith.

There had been no time to wait for Ashok; in any case, Octavius was not sympathetic to the missing Angel Sanguine. It was not clear why the librarian had left the kill-team on Ulthwe, and Octavius did not appreciate having his command compromised by the actions of a maverick Marine, not even by the magnificent librarian. Besides, Lord Vargas had instructed him to proceed without Ashok.

The inquisitor lordas tone had been uncharacteristically stern, and Octavius had needed no further encouragement to vacate the alien craftworld. He had never left a Marine behind before, and he was not entirely comfortable with doing it now, but his duty to the Ordo Xenos, to the Inquisition, to the Imperium and even to the Ulthwe eldar forced his hand. Duty before all else. Besides, part of him suspected that, if he wasnat dead already, the unpredictable librarian had had something to do with the disappearance of the two seers from the upper levels of Ulthwe during the raid. No matter how magnificent the Angel Sanguineas combat prowess might be, Octavius could not shake the feeling of distrust that always flooded his brain when he came into contact with him. Whatever the case, the captain was not well-disposed to wasting more time on that cursed craftworld waiting for the librarian, who was either dead, a loose cannon, or even a traitor.

As they watched the diminishing image, waves of shivers pa.s.sed through the bodies of the s.p.a.ce Marines, as though the Lance of Darkness itself were pa.s.sing through successive boundaries of icy energy. At first, Octavius thought that his mind was simply releasing the tension that it had stored whilst aboard the monstrous alien vessel, but then he remembered the similar feelings that had wracked the frigate as it had approached the craftworld.

Atreus nodded, as though reading the captainas mind. Some kind of psychic sensor array, captain. We are clearing its reach now.

aIf there is such an array,a began Octavius, his suspicious mind juggling the information without turning away from the screen, ahow can the dark eldar raiders approach the craftworld undetected?a Their psychic technology is far superior to yours, human. The icy, unfamiliar thoughts made Octavius turn. They hurt his head and pushed his mind in unnatural directions. Their presence is much more subtle; they are little more than shadows in the darkness.

The tall, sinister shape of the eldar warlock was standing in the doorway to the control room. It had taken off its elaborate helmet shortly after take-off, revealing a perfectly smooth, porcelain white face with dark, elliptical eyes. Its head was an elegant oval, and its hair fell in long, black cascades down to its slender shoulders. Rather than appearing menacing and powerful, there was a distinctly feminine quality to the inescapable danger that emanated from the eldar war-witch.

aThen how do you detect them?a Octavius made no attempt to approach the alien, and he kept his voice low, forcing the warlock to approach in order to hear him.

There are ways that you would not understand.

Try us, interjected Atreus, honing his thoughts into deceptive daggers and pushing them slowly into the warlockas head, hoping that they would cause at least a little pain.

Shariele flicked his black eyes over to Atreus, narrowing them with a strange hatred that confused the Blood Raven. There were accusations written into that alien gaze, although Atreus could not see their form or content. The librarian was well aware of the unusual connection between the fabled Gabriel Angelos, captain of the Blood Ravens Third Company, and the eldar of the Biel-Tan craftworld, but he had never thought that he would see echoes of that relationship in the eyes of an Ulthwe warlock.

Your minds are not adequate, replied Shariele, punctuating his thoughts with moments of psychic pressure that sent ripples through Atreusa head. The warlock was making his point emphatically; it was not a challenge, but it was certainly a response to the librarianas test. The two psykers were sizing each other up.

Octavius watched the silent concentration sear through the air between Atreus and the warlock, and he realised immediately that something was going on.

aEnough,a he said. aAtreus, we have no time for this. And you, Shaariell,a continued Octavius, not caring that he was probably butchering the eldaras name. aYou are here to a.s.sist us, not to hinder. It is no secret that we would rather be without you, and I suspect that the feeling is mutual. However, until our duty is done, we will work together to ensure the success of this sortie. Make no mistake, alien,a added the Deathwatch captain, bringing his face closer to the delicate features of the warlock, aonce this thing is over, you can test our strength all you like. But I warn you now, you will not find the Emperoras Deathwatch lacking in resolve or power.a The Ulthwe psyker held Octaviusa gaze for a moment, as though trying to a.s.sess the captainas sincerity. Then it nodded slowly, aping a brief bow of deference. aWe hinder you are not here to,a it said, jumbling the alien tongue self-consciously. aHelp need you. Help you must we. Understood.a aWe do not need your help, alien,a replied Octavius without diplomacy. The eldaras lack of fluency in the tongues of the Imperium made communication difficult and unreliable, but he was certain that the implied insult had not been accidental. aWe merely require that you do not interfere with our duty.a As he spoke, the shimmering and beautiful figure of the female warrior stepped through the doorway into the control room. She nodded respectfully, meeting the eyes of Atreus for a moment before striding past the small group to watch the receding picture of Ulthwe on the viewscreens.

Despite his disciplined composure, Octavius shivered again. He did not care that the aliens paid him so little respect; he could even understand how they might focus their attentions on the librarian. The eldar were a psychic race, and he could imagine that they viewed ungifted humans as stunted or primitive life forms. Quite what they made of librarians like Atreus and Ashok, he had no idea. Come to that, he was not even sure what he thought about Ashok.

However, it was one thing for the aliens to disrespect him personally, and it was quite another for them to behave without appropriate decorum on the control deck of an ancient Deathwatch frigate. He could only imagine the enormity of the insult being done to the machine-spirit of the venerable vessel with two aliens occupying places of honour on the control deck itself. He hoped that Sulphus would be able to tend to the vessel before it was called upon for combat.

A warning klaxon interrupted his indignance, and a blue range warning light started to pulse over the main viewscreen.

aIt appears that even our primitive technology is of use, after all,a said Octavius, turning away from the warlock and striding across to one of the display terminals for the long-range sensors. Clearly visible at the top of the screen were three small marks, which the cogitator recognised immediately as emanating dark eldar signatures. aIt seems that we will have company rather sooner than we expected.a The corsairs rolled and flashed around the Lance of Darkness, flickering in and out of visibility as though falling in and out of phase with the material realm itself. Their shadowfields clicked on and off intermittently, as though the flurries of sparking fire that spat out of the gun arrays interfered with the mimic engines.

The three ranged signatures had divided and multiplied into six as they had closed on the Deathwatch frigate, splintering into three attacking pairs that spiralled around each other and darted around the vessel, peppering its heavy armour with volleys of darkly glimmering fire.

The gun bays around the perimeter of the frigate resounded with fire, coughing out explosive warheads and slicing through the detritus with lances of lasfire. The gun-servitors were working overtime, tracking the rapid and constantly shifting trajectories of the dark eldar corsairs and rattling out fire into their wakes.

Even the control deck rocked under the fury of the frigateas defensive actions, as each and every gun turret seemed to fire simultaneously but in a different direction. The kinetic release from the ma.s.sive recoils of the heavy cannons sent shock waves pulsing through the infrastructure of the frigate.

In comparison to the maelstrom that raged outside, the control room was a haven of calm. Octavius and Atreus stood in the centre of the roughly circular chamber, observing the behaviour of the dedicated serfs who operated the controls and made constant reports on damage inflicted as well as suffered. Streams of data flooded into the cogitators from around the ship, and the serfs sifted it immediately, presenting Octavius with the salient information so that he could instruct them appropriately.

The serfs aboard the Lance of Darkness were amongst the most talented of their kind in the Imperium. Just like the Deathwatch Marines themselves, these serfs were drawn from the ranks of the pledge workers of a number of different s.p.a.ce Marine Chapters, often arriving in tow behind a Marine captain or sergeant that had insisted on bringing one or two of his own most trusted support staff.

The Ordo Xenos in some sectors still insisted that the serfs should be drawn directly from their own internal bureaucracies or should be seconded from the Imperial Navy, believing that service under the Deathwatch required special capacities that only the Inquisition itself could instil. However, many facilities, including the Watchtower Fortress of Ramugan itself, acknowledged that the serfs best suited for service under a kill-team were those who were already well-drilled in the strategies of the Codex Astartes and who had served under s.p.a.ce Marines before.

Just as the great Watchtower would enlist and train the very best Marines from throughout the Adeptus Astartes, so a separate and almost forgotten administration scoured the Chapters for talented serfs, recruiting them, training them, and then utilizing them for limited periods of secondment, before returning them to their original service vessels to fulfil their pledges to the relevant Chapters. It would be simply disastrous to entrust the transport of the Imperiumas finest s.p.a.ce Marines to a second-rate crew of serfs and servitors, and the relationship was also beneficial for the separate Chapters that contributed their personnel, since the serfs would return much more experienced and capable than when they left.

aBring us around. Point her nose back towards Ulthwe,a growled Octavius. aLetas see whether these aliens are willing to risk the deployment of eldar support.a The captain was gazing up at the main viewer, watching a line of explosions strafe in the wake of a pair of speeding corsairs a the gun-servitors were clearly unable to keep pace with the movement of the dark eldar at this close range. He did not direct his commands to anyone in particular, but a.s.serted them to the control deck as a whole, confident that the crew would see it done.

aWhat kind of damage are those things doing?a he asked, conscious that the movement he could feel in the hull was largely caused by the Lance of Darknessas own weapons.

aMinimal, captain,a came the reply. aTheir fire is not penetrating our armour.a Octavius nodded without looking for the source of the voice. All the serfs were the same to him. As long as he got the information he needed, he did not care who gave it to him. He was satisfied that his vessel was holding up under the a.s.sault, but something in the back of his mind urged him to be cautious; dark eldar corsairs were not known for lacking firepower.

aWhat are they firing?a he asked.

There was no reply.

aI asked a question.a He turned his gleaming eyes around to survey the crew behind him, annoyed that he had been forced to recognise its personality. The serfs were all positioned at their terminals, heads bowed over glowing screens, deep in concentration. aWhat are they firing?a he repeated.

n.o.body looked up. aWe canat tell, captain. Whatever it is, it is impacting against the outer armour and detonating there. There is almost no penetration into the plates. Itas as though the warheads are utterly without material substance.a The white armoured eldar strode over to one of the terminals and looked down over the serfas shoulder, inspecting the data and making the man squirm uncomfortably. The faint green glow from the screen cast her pale skin in an eerie light. She nodded, but said nothing.

Before Octavius could say anything, his attention was drawn back to the main viewer by the sound of an explosion. He turned in time to see one of the corsairs splutter and then detonate, a line of debris and puffs of off-target sh.e.l.ls running up behind it. Fragments spun and tumbled away from the epicentre of the explosion, ravaging the hull of the Lance of Darkness like shrapnel. At the same time, a chunk of debris smashed into the corsair that had been on the wing of the first, crunching through its thin armour and punching out of the other side of it, leaving a gaping hole through its fuselage.

As though responding to a signal, the other corsairs suddenly peeled away from the Lance of Darkness and flashed off towards the red, misty, glowing fringes of the Circuitrine system, close to the asteroid field that laced the lashes of the Eye of Terror itself.

aDonat let them get away,a said Octavius, keeping his eyes locked on the rapidly diminishing shapes of the four escorts. aKeep up the gunnery, but leave at least one functioning a we need to find out where it is heading.a aBe careful, captain.a The voice was harsh and shrill, echoing as though spoken by more than one person in chorus. Before it had finished, Octavius could already feel the slight gravitational shift caused by the rapid acceleration of the Lance of Darkness as it powered after the fleeing corsairs.

aWhat?a he said, turning back to face the glittering form of the female eldar. aAre you telling me how to conduct my ship, eldar?a His annoyance, already raised by the casual manner in which the eldar had perused the readouts on the control deck, was palpable.

The fleeing corsairs ducked and bobbed, weaving their way between and around the asteroids. Behind them, the Lance of Darkness roared with determination, its forward batteries spraying fire almost indiscriminately, exploding asteroids into scattering fragments and making life difficult for the remaining dark eldar pilots. Four corsairs had been reduced to three, but these were as elusive and slippery as fish in an ocean.

aThere!a yelled Octavius, pointing to one side of a ma.s.sive moon-like rock that was tumbling through the field. aTake us around the other way.a Even before he had finished the order, the Lance of Darkness banked sharply, firing a long series of retros that ran down its port side to tighten its curve. The frigate pulled itself back into line and roared past the ma.s.sive s.p.a.ce boulder, cutting short the flight path of the escaping corsairs and reeling them in. Immediately, and without waiting for an order, the forward guns coughed a volley of rockets into the heat trail of the alien vessels. Two of them struck home, charging up behind the flickering corsairs and punching into their exhaust rigs, detonating their engine cores in fantastical explosions of light. The debris of the two ruined vessels lashed out at the single remaining corsair as it spun and dived to avoid the sudden onslaught. It ducked beneath the fury and rolled round behind one of the larger asteroids, vanishing from view.

aCease firing,a called Octavius, satisfied that he had caused enough damage to the aliens and conscious that he did not want to lose the last ship. The remaining corsair might be their only guide to the location of the kidnapped eldar seers. a.s.suming that there was only one band of dark eldar pirates operating in this section, it seemed more than likely that this corsair would be heading back towards the same base to which the craftworld raiders would have taken their prisoners.

aBring us up behind that asteroid and cut propulsion. We are going to wait for that corsair to break cover. When it does so, let it clear visible range but track it on the long-range scanners. We need to know where it goes, but we do not need it to watch us following it.a aUnderstood,a came the anonymous reply.

aIt seems that our primitive technology may be good enough, aliens,a said Octavius, without turning to face the warlock or Aspect Warrior who stood uneasily on the deck behind him. They had refused to take seats during the pursuit, and it seemed probable that they were not used to the rough gravitational shifts that such manoeuvres could generate in an Astartes frigate. Eldar vessels were equipped with gravitational stabilisers that nullified all the effects of such movements and were the envy of the Imperial Navy.

As he spoke, the signature of the last corsair reappeared on the monitor, accelerating rapidly away from the blind side of the huge asteroid.

aItas moving, captain.a aGood. Wait.a The dark eldar escort ship flashed out towards the edge of the asteroid field, accelerating continuously, putting a great distance between itself and the lurking Lance of Darkness. But then it stopped dead. There was no period of deceleration; it just stopped. After a tiny delay, it had reoriented itself and was rocketing back towards the asteroid, following exactly the same flight path as it had used in its escape route, accelerating all of the time.

aCaptain. Itas coming back.a aOn screen,a said Octavius with interest. Perhaps the flighty and treacherous dark eldar had some honour after all: were they returning to finish the fight head to head?

The main viewscreen flickered and a line of static oscillated across it, leaving the ghostly green image of the sensor terminal enlarged for all to see. The corsair signature was racing down from the top of the screen at an unbelievable speed. It was heading directly for the asteroid at the bottom, behind which lurked the Lance of Darkness. To everyone present, it looked clearly like a collision course.

aArm the forward torpedoes,a murmured Octavius, his complex blue eyes transfixed by the apparently suicidal image. aAnd bring us around to face the horizon of this rock. If our visitor is going to overshoot, then we will be ready for him.a There was no reply, but the captain knew that his orders were being fulfilled.

aStop can not the darkling.a The white-clad Aspect Warrior stepped up next to Octavius, joining his concentration on the darting image. aToo fast.a For a moment Octavius said nothing. He was not sure whether the alien was telling him that the Lance of Darkness was too slow or that the corsair was travelling too fast to be able to stop before it hit the asteroid.

aWe will see,a was his non-committal reply, which he muttered with an edge of defiance.

As they watched, the corsairas signature seemed to pick up even more speed before it blinked directly into the image of the asteroid and vanished. The sensors showed a spray of debris scattering out into s.p.a.ce, and the warp sensors flashed to acknowledge a momentary rupture in real s.p.a.ce, presumably caused by the destruction of the corsairas engine core.

aBring us back three thousand metres,a said Octavius, his thoughts still suspicious. He had never heard of dark eldar raiders committing suicide rather than engaging in battle. Something was not right. aIf that vessel struck the blind side of this asteroid at that speed, then we should be able to detect a shift in the rockas movement.a aNot crash,a said Dhrykna, still staring at the viewscreen. Her eyes were scrunched in disdain, as though she couldnat believe what she was seeing. Her expression made Octavius think of the way that he felt when he looked at the crude, clunking technology of orks.

aYou said it could not stop.a Octavius turned to face the Aspect Warrior and drew himself up to his full height in front of her. He looked down into her alien eyes for the first time and steadied himself before their spiralling depths. aIf it didnat stop, and it didnat crash, where in the Emperoras name is it?a aNot emperoras ship,a replied Dhrykna, her face cracking into an uneasy, alien smile. aGone home.a aThe asteroidas trajectory shows no signs of having sustained an impact, captain. The corsair did not hit it.a The anonymous voice carried a tone of certainty.

aFine. Iam through with this cat and mouse game,a said Octavius. aLetas see whatas on the other side of this rock. And you,a he said, addressing Dhrykna directly, atell us what you know about this.a aYour no enough good technology?a she said, raising an eyebrow in an unnerving imitation of sarcasm.

aLook, whether you like this or not, weare in this together, alien. Our primitive technology was enough to pursue and destroy five of these corsairs, which, apparently, is more than your precious Ulthwe Shadowhunters have managed to do. It has also been more than enough to deal with your own warbirds in the past. So stop with this pompous self-righteousness before I have to kill you too. If youare not going to a.s.sist, then you may as well be dead. This is not a pa.s.senger ship. The least you can do is help us to understand what the dark eldar are doing. I presume that you know?a Octaviusa tone was harsh and full of accusation. His patience with the arrogance of the eldar was growing thin. It wasnat as though they were doing him any favours a the Deathwatch were here to help them, for the sake of the Throne.

aLet they you them follow,a hissed the warlock from behind. aLet they you them kill. Too easy. Not right is something.a Octavius turned slowly as he fought to control his anger. He couldnat believe the audacity of these creatures.

There was silence, then one word. aDhrykna.a aWhat? I donat have time for these riddles,a snapped Octavius, returning his gaze to the white armoured Aspect Warrior at his shoulder.

aMy name,a she said softly, bowing her head. She was honouring him as a fellow warrior, acknowledging his performance even if Shariele refused to do so.

On the edge of anger, Octavius paused. He had expected the presence of the eldar on the Lance of Darkness to fray the nerves of some of the others. But he had not seriously considered the effect that they might have on him. Pelias, in particular, had simply retreated into the vesselas chapel with Chaplain Luthar, where he had remained for the duration of the pursuit. Sulphus had taken himself off to the armoury to administer to his various augmetics; he had hardly even seemed to notice the eldar, as though dismissing them as merely two extra bodies of flesh on the ship. The Mantis Warrior, Kruidan, had greeted them when they first came aboard, giving them the honour of a warrior. He had appeared without his armour and with his long, black hair hanging freely over his impressive shoulders, ritual tattoos snaking intricately over his chest, neck and face. Only Atreus had shown a calm self-possession, accompanying the eldar onto the control deck with the captain and then standing with quiet attention and surveying the scene. Octavius granted himself no s.p.a.ce for personal reactions a it was all about duty a so his anger disturbed him.

Exhaling heavily, Octavius nodded in return, recovering the professionalism and composure for which the Imperial Fists were renowned. aGreetings Draknar. I am Captain Octavius of the Emperoras Deathwatch. Let us see this through together so that we can both be rid of it.a aComing about,a said one of the serfs. aSwitching the viewer.a Octavius and Dhrykna held each otheras eyes for a moment longer, as though sharing a new, unspoken understanding and resolve. Then the captain nodded and turned to face the screen.

The dark side of the asteroid rolled into view as the Lance of Darkness skirted around an easy orbit. The surface was veiled in deep, uneven shadows, and it took a few moments for the optical enhancers to adjust.

aAtreus. Any ideas?a asked Octavius, his eyes widening at the view that confronted them. The Blood Ravens librarian was a fount of knowledge.

The centre of the asteroid appeared to have been blown out. It was so concave that it seemed to be bigger inside than out, as though the giant bowl had been scooped through the structure of the rock and then out of the other side. Around the rim were a series of small, metallic structures, which pulsed with tiny constellations of lights as though alive with power. Stretched out between them were threads of energy, like a giant web of darkly burning beams, forming a net that covered the mouth of the immense cave. The s.p.a.ces between the threads shimmered and shone like a mystical patchwork, as though filled with individual, geometric pools of warp energy.

aItas some kind of webway portal, captain,a replied Atreus, inspecting the image carefully. aThe corsair must have dived through it when it hit the asteroid.a aGone home,a muttered Dhrykna, nodding slowly as though in agreement.

Octavius nodded smartly. aTake us out two thousand metres and then bring us about. We may need a run-up for this. Letas find out what kind of cursed place these aliens call home.a A veil of darkness hung over the elevated podium in the centre of the Seer Chamber. It shimmered like a black, velvet curtain, silent and seductive. A rich, sickly scent seemed to ooze out of the folds, diffusing through the chamber like a narcotic, as though a dense collection of psycho-reactive drugs were simmering on the other side. The wisps of smoke and fragrance carried whispers and ideas, curdling around themselves into nauseous contradictions.

High up on the domed ceiling, angular patterns of violence started to course through the structure of the chamber.

Standing next to the podium, watching the veiled darkness billow and flow, Thaeaakzi and Eldressyn were transfixed. They were alone in the grand chamber, the rest of the council having left after they had briefed Dhrykna and Shariele. The moody Karizhariat Seer, Ruhklo, had swept out of the sacred hall in disgust, with his cloak billowing dramatically in his wake, and with the other seers striding along behind him.

He did not approve of the presence of the mon-keigh on Ulthwe, and he certainly did not believe that they could be trusted with the fate of even a single eldar soul. Sending two of the craftworldas finest warriors to accompany the primitive fools just seemed like arrogance and wastefulness a not even Shariele and Dhrykna could salvage the immature stupidity of the humans. They would die alongside the mon-keigh and their souls would be lost to the infinity circuit. Sending them away from Ulthwe was almost like dispatching a gift for Slaanesh himself. Ruhklo of the Karizhariat could not understand why the council would let this happen. He could not understand how Thaeaakzi had convinced Ulthran himself of the plan and he was furious that the words of the sapling seer, Eldressyn, seemed to carry a weight equal to his own on the council. He had served Ulthwe since before that wych had even been born.

Eldressyn had never seen anything quite like this before. The darkly fluttering curtains of shaaiel rippled with an alien energy, and her heart raced. The seduction of the forbidden thrilled through her body, making her nerves tingle and her eyes widen. The almost impossibly light fabric of her white robes seemed to blend with the smoke until it was difficult to distinguish where her clothing ended and the sickly emissions began.

In contrast, the Emerald Seer was calm. Her implacable green eyes stared levelly at the podium as she waited for the visitor to take a more appropriate form. She had seen it all before. Indeed, she could clearly remember the first time that she had stood before the sacred altar alongside Ulthran himself. He had initiated her into the necessity of foresight and diplomacy for a craftworld free-floating so close to the cursed Eye. Now she would initiate Eldressyn in turn. The young seer was eager, ambitious and thirsty for forbidden knowledgea yet everyone thought that she was so naive and idealistic. She was perfect, and Ulthran had picked her himself.

As she watched, Thaeaakzi narrowed her fathomless eyes. The eddying, narcotic smoke stung her senses, but it was her memory that troubled her. Always in the back of her mind was the day that she had been summoned back to the Aspect Temple of the Shining Spears. She had once been a warrior of their ranks, bedecked in the pristine whites and silver-blues that made them shine like beacons in the darkness of Ulthwe. But that had been before she had taken her first steps on the path of the seer, before Eldrad Ulthran himself had taken her under his wing and begun to mould her soul into an image of his own.

There were many rumours about what had happened on that fateful day, when Thaeaakzi had returned to the temple, responding to a call felt deep in her soul. Ulthwe had been under attack by a force of mon-keigh warriors that had spilt out of the Eye of Terror, disfigured and terrible to behold. The young Thaeaakzi had been riddled with doubts and despair at her own impotence. Her hard won powers as a seer appeared to offer the forces of Ulthwe little in their fight against the defiled intruders. She could see the events cascading back from the future, but she had no power to alter those events herself. With despair in her heart, she had found herself back in the great crystal courtyard of the Temple of Light; her soul was weeping.

Wandering the almost deserted, labyrinthine corridors of the temple, she had eventually found her way to the sanctum, wherein lay the untouched, ceremonial masks of the Shining Warlocks. As soon as she laid her eyes on the masks, she realised what she needed to do. Only by combining the paths of the seer and the Aspect Warrior would she be able to attain the kind of power that her soul craved. Only by becoming a warlock of the Shining Spears would she be able to a.s.sist in the battle for Ulthwe.

Yet the masks refused her touch. She tried in vain to conquer their spirits. Sitting in meditation, she battled them for three days without cessation or rest. When she finally emerged from the sanctum, although the mon-keigh a.s.sault had been defeated outside, so too had Thaeaakzi, and her eyes had changed colour into a glaring, emerald green, the traditional colour of defiance and despair. In her mind, she felt as though she had battled the spirit of Khaine himself.

As her eminence on the Seer Council had grown, rumours had started to circulate about her time in the sanctum of the Temple of Light. She had done nothing to stop them. Without exception, they were all more flattering than the actual events of those three days. After a while, a consensus had developed around Thaeaakzias silence: she was too humble to sing of her own virtues, but she was in fact the only seer in living memory to have received the call of Khaine and to have refused it successfully. She had been summoned to the Temple of Light and, after three days of struggle, she had emerged triumphant as the Emerald Seer a defiance incarnate.

Her failure in the sanctum had become her greatest victory, but it had also turned her will against the rapidly diminishing, shimmering Aspect. She had used her influence and her power to ensure that the once glorious Temple of Light recruited fewer and fewer Aspect Warriors, pushing the minds of the potential aspirants towards darker places, pushing them inevitably towards the Dark Reapers. In her arrogance, she hardly noticed the effect that this was having on Ulthwe itself.

Ah, Thaeaakzi. The thoughts were like a breath in her ear, whispered and intimate, easing her out of her reverie.

The veil of dark mist on the podium had faded into semi-transparency, becoming little more than a curtain of vapour. Behind it could be seen a shapely female form, writhing in what might have been either pleasure or pain. Its outline was not quite distinct, and its features were blurred behind the veil, but it emitted such an intoxicating air that it might have been the most seductive figure ever to have graced the Seer Chamber of Ulthwe.

Eldressyn inhaled sharply, as though gasping. A waft of vapour brushed against her skin, sending a shiver trickling down her neck like a bead of sweat.

And who is this beautiful creature? Have you brought me a gift, Thaeaakzi?

I have already sent you a gift, Lelith. A great gift, exactly as we agreed. The Emerald Seeras composure was admirable.

Ah yes, the mon-keigh warriors. Their souls are strong. They will bring much satisfaction, I am sure.

Despite their power, they are stupid animals. They may need some guidance.

Did you not provide any guides, Sister Thaeaakzi? As she spoke, the wych queen seemed to reach a slender arm out from behind the veil to caress the transfixed Eldressyn.

I am not your sister, Lelith.

The Mistress of Strife had gone too far. With a flick of her hand, Thaeaakzi vaporised the apparition of Lelithas arm, severing the wychas connection with the young Ulthroon Seer. And Eldressyn is not part of our bargain. You will not touch her again.

A feeling of rich disappointment flooded out of the image on the podium. It was mocking her.

Oh, you are so serious, Thaeaakzi. Lelith seemed to be enjoying herself.

I have sent two guides, Lelith. Enough to rea.s.sure the mon-keigh that we are serious, but insufficient for them to be of any real help.

May I have them too? Lelithas thoughts were playful and flirtatious.

Letas call them a sign of our good will, Lelith. Take them and be gone.

Oh, fear not, my most colourless of sisters, I will take them. And then she was gone, leaving only a shapeless, amorphous cloud of sickly sweet mist to dissipate over the podium.

Eldressyn jolted suddenly, as though being dropped to the ground from a great height. She is gone? Her thoughts were tinged with sadness and resentment, like those of a child that had fallen asleep before it wanted to.

The stars flickered and swam, pulsing as though on the edge of death. A dull red mist replaced the vacuum of s.p.a.ce, as though seeping through the ruptured capillaries of the immaterium. It was as though reality itself were bleeding besieged by incredible pressures from unearthly realms, like a diving bell stranded in the impossible depths of an ocean.

As the Lance of Darkness powered out of the web-way portal and pushed through the chaotic, swirling fog, the warp intrusion alarms sounded continuously on the control deck, filling the ancient vessel with steadily flashing red light and an ululating siren. The shipas machine-spirit could sense the insidious violations that licked at its armoured plates, and its concern about the lack of a navigator onboard was evident. The vessel was not equipped for warp travel, and the vaporous mist of warp energy through which it pa.s.sed confused its sensors. However, its warp shields held, because it was not submerged in the maelstrom of the warp, it was merely ploughing through the dense, eddying s.p.a.ce of the Eye of Terror, like an icebreaker. The boundaries between material and immaterial s.p.a.ce in this zone were permeable; droplets and shards flickered in and out of existence in each realm, struggling against their natures to survive in unnatural and alien dimensions. It was a field of perpetual death and life, a chaotic miasma of swirling vapours and intoxicating energies.

aSensors?a asked Octavius, staring up at the vague, ruddy mist that obscured the scene on the viewscreen. He couldnat see anything.

aNothing, captain.a The ships sensor arrays were as confused as Octaviusa own senses.

aKeep trying,a said Octavius. aGive me visual on the main viewer. We need to find that corsair. Switch to long range scanners. It could be anywhere by now.a We do not need your sensors, captain. We know where the darklings have gone.