by Dan Abnett
'Heretic!' he screamed. His power hammer swung up in his plated fists, crackling with energy and he came at me. He had significant advantage. He was psi-shielded and heavily armoured against an adversary with no armour whatsoever.
Our weapons crashed together. We broke and swung again. There was massive strength behind his blows and I was still weak from the psychic mauling Heldane had given me.
'There's no time for this, you fool!' I yelled. 'I didn't unleash the daemonhost, but I'm the only chance you have to stop it!'
Behind us, Cherubael giggled hysterically as it torched the guards firing at it. It skimmed down and locked in combat with the furious Heldane.
Osma was defiant. He would not break off. He deflected my sword stroke with a hammerblow so powerful I was rocked back, my guard open. His follow-through came right at my face and I threw my body back to evade it. It missed. Barely. The hammer's energy scorched my cheek.
But I had lost my footing.
I crashed over onto the marble deck and rolled sideways as the hammer came down and cracked the stone flags. Osma's weapon, the Malleus symbol of his ordo, rushed up again for the deathstroke.
There was a shriek of energy and the air above me was split by a blinding turquoise beam. It struck Osma full in the face and vapourised his head in a splash of light, bone shards and adipose tissue. His body hit the floor with a metallic crash and the fused remains of his heavy augmetic jaw bounced away across the deck.
I rose.
Maxilla, still sprawled and wretchedly twisted where Heldane had dropped him, slowly lowered his hand. The digital ring weapon on his elegantly gloved finger was glowing.
I turned back to the fight. Medea and Eleena had entered the room along with the remaining guards, looking on in horror. Some of the guards fled.
Heldane was being driven back across the bridge by the radiant, cackling daemonhost. He was throwing everything he had at Cherubael, and the daemon was just laughing, teeth backlit into silhouette by the light of the warp streaming out of its gaping maw.
Heldane's robes were beginning to smoulder.
'Eleena!' I shouted and she ran to me. None of the awestruck guards even tried to stop her.
'There's no time to do this cleanly. I need you next to me. You may be able to block some of its power.'
She nodded and grabbed my coat with both hands. She was terrified out of her wits. But she did not falter.
I pulled the Malus Codicium from my coat and leafed desperately through the pages. I couldn't find what I was looking for. I damn well couldn't find what I was looking for!
The marble deck of the bridge cracked and parted underneath Heldane like solid ground split by an earth tremor. One of his feet slipped into the crack and he swayed.
Cherubael snorted with glee and clapped its hands. The deck quaked and the crack closed again, like a vice.
Heldane screamed. He screamed the terrible howl of the damned. He was pinned into the deck by his crushed leg. Cherubael advanced.
Heldane slashed with his sword in terror. The blade melted. The inquisitor's clothes caught fire. Ablaze from head to foot with green flames, he screamed again. On fire, upright, fixed to the spot, he looked just like a heretic burning at the stake.
Cherubael looked away from his prey, bored with it now it was dying. It surged forward and floated towards me. Eleena let out a sobbing whimper.
'Stay close!' I told her.
'Hello, Gregor/ said Cherubael. Its voice was hoarse and impaired. The astropath it inhabited hadn't spoken for many years and the voice organs had partially atrophied.
'Don't we have fun together, Gregor?' it went on, its blank eyes fixed on me. It was smiling, but there was nothing warm in those vacant orbs. Nothing at all, in fact, except evil.
'It's always such a delight to play these games with you. But this game must be a bit of surprise, eh? Didn't expect to see me, did you? It wasn't you that called me this time.'
It came closer. I could feel, not heat, but burning cold emanating from it. I was still ripping through the pages of the book to find what I was looking for.
'Here's another surprise for you/ it added, dropping its voice to a whisper. This is the last time we play. I've had enough of the way you make up all the games. You see what I did to that horse-faced idiot? I won't do that to you, old friend. I'll do something that really, really hurts.'
It lunged forward but then backed off slightly, as if stung. It had touched the psychic deadzone around Eleena. Cherubael turned his attention down towards her.
'Hello. Aren't you a sweet little thing? What a pretty face! Shame I'm going to ruin it.'
'Mmmh!' Eleena sobbed.
You're a clever old stick, Gregor. Always careful enough to have an untouchable at your side when you meet with me. This isn't the regular one, though, is it? What happened to her?'
I wrenched the book open.
'She won't save you, mind,' said Cherabael, reaching out with hands that were sprouting thick, ugly talons.
I thrust the book up and held it in front of his eyes with both hands, clamping the pages open so that the daemonhost could clearly see.
It was diagrams of the four chief runes of banishment. They wouldn't banish Cherubael, because they hadn't been properly invoked. But I was pretty sure just reading them would hurt.
Cherubael squealed and tumbled back. I stepped forward a pace, keeping the book raised and open.
Wracked with agony, the daemonhost soared back across the bridge, crashed through the main screen and shattered the hololithic plates in a shower of crystal and sparks. It bounced twice off the ceiling like a maddened hornet fighting a window pane, the colour of its flame-halo turning yellow and then furnace orange.
Cherubael dropped, hit the floor and burned through it leaving a circular, smouldering hole.
'Oh dear Emperor-' Eleena gasped.
'Come on!' I said. 'It won't be long before it comes back for another try. Move!'
Medea ran forward. The last few guards were busy beating out the flames swathing Heldane with their capes. He was still screaming.
'Get her out of here!' I told Medea, pushing Eleena towards her. 'Hangar deck! Go!'
They hurried towards the exit. Deep, bass detonations from somewhere deep in the Essene rocked the floor. Multiple alarms were sounding. Sparks cascaded from the buckled ceiling of the bridge.
I went over to Maxilla. His eyes flickered and he looked up at me. 'I didn't mean it. ..' he said in a tiny voice.
'Mean what?'
'I told that brute none of you meant anything to me. But I didn't mean it.'
'I know.'
Thank you,' he said, and died.
I ran from the bridge into one of the main longitudinal corridors. Smoke was boiling along it from untold damage below. On the floor, I saw weapons and cloaks dropped by Osma's guards in their panic to leave.
I'd taken about a dozen steps when a loud voice told me to halt.
Fischig was coming after me, aiming his bolt pistol with a straight, firm arm. He was bloodied and bruised by the explosion that had knocked him down, but there was an utterly determined set to his face. I'd seen that look before, but I'd never been on the receiving end of it.
'Stop where you are/ he said.
'Come on! We have to get clear. The ship is dying.'
'Stop where you are,' he repeated.
'Come with me. I'll explain everything and you'll see why it's vital for us to-'
'Shut up/ he said. 'It's all lies. It's always been lies. You know you nearly fooled me back then. I was almost convinced I'd made a terrible mistake going to Osma. But then you showed your true colours. Brought that daemon back and proved that everything I feared about you was true/
This isn't the time or place, Godwyn. I'm leaving now. Come with me if you want/
I turned my back on him and walked away.
'Gregor, please-'
I kept walking. I was sure he wouldn't shoot. We went back too far. When it came down to i
t, he wouldn't be able to stop me.
The boltgun roared. The shot exploded my left knee. I cried out and fell, leaning on Barbarisater. There was blood everywhere. I couldn't believe he'd found the will to do it.
With a yelp of pain I hauled myself up on the sword. He fired again and now my right leg went out from under me, also mangled at the knee.
I lay on my back. I could feel the death throes of the Essene quaking and thundering through the deck beneath me. Fischig stood over me.
'Stop this...' I gasped. 'Get me to the hangar/
He drew back the slide of the bolt pistol. He was shaking with distress, wracked by grief and disappointment and duty and belief.
'Please/ he said. 'Renounce it all. Repent your sins and accept the Emperor for the-good of your soul. It's not too late/
'You're still trying to save me/ I managed to get the words out through the pain. 'Glory be, Fischig... you actually shot me so you could try and save my soul?'
'Renounce the warp!' he stammered. 'Please! I can save you! You're my friend and I can still save you from yourself!
'I don't need saving/1 said.
He aimed the gun at my head. His finger tightened on the trigger. 'May the Emperor protect you, Gregor Eisenhorn/ he said.
He twitched. Once. Twice. He swayed. The bolt pistol wandered in his lolling hand and fired, harmlessly, against the corridor wall. He dropped to his knees and then fell forward onto his face as if he was praying.
I struggled to pull myself up so I could lean my back against the wall. My legs were crippled, bloody and useless.
Medea crouched down next to me. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She let go of the needle pistol and let it clatter onto the deck.
Kara appeared behind us, a las-carbine in her hands, with Eleena and Aemos at her heels. They all looked in horror at the sight of me and Fischig.
Aemos was deathly pale, and leaning on my runestaff like a penitent pilgrim.
'Help me up/ I said, from between clenched teeth. Kara and Medea hoisted me up between them.
I looked at Aemos. 'You summoned Cherubael? It was you, wasn't it? You summoned him into one of the Essene's poor bloody astropaths?'
'They were going to burn us as heretics/ he said softly, 'and then we'd never be able to stop Glaw/
'But how did you perform the rituals, Uber? You didn't even have the book any more/
'That book/ he sighed. 'That damn book. It's all in here now/ He tapped his wrinkled forehead with a scrawny finger.
He'd memorised it. During those weeks of study he'd memorised the Mains Codicium. Thanks to a meme-virus, he was a data addict. That's what made him such a fine savant. And now his addiction had taken him to overdose.
You memorised the whole thing?'
'Word/ he swallowed and then finished, 'perfect/
There was another juddering boom and a rush of hot air gusted down the corridor.
'Are we gonna stand around like ninkers all day or are we gonna get off this ship?' Kara snapped, bracing against me.
'I think that might be wise/ I agreed.
But the way was blocked. Cherubael had come back for me.
Its malicious rampage had crippled the Essene. It was still seething with the pain I had inflicted. It wasn't even talking any more.
It surged down the corridor towards us. I couldn't reach the Malus Codicium now. I was having enough trouble just standing up.
Eleena cried out in terror. I cursed, helpless, useless.
Aemos hobbled forward and place himself between us and the charging warp-spawn. He braced the runestaff against the floor and lowered the tip towards Cherubael. He knew what to do. May the God-Emperor show him mercy, he knew better than I.
There was a release of power and light so powerful that it was beyond sound. The host body disintegrated, showering us with a hail of burned flesh, charred bone and blackened augmetic debris.
Aemos and the runestaff shuddered and jerked as they both lit up with corposant that crackled and flashed up and down them.
The last few electrical arcs sizzled away into the deck. Aemos remained standing where he was with the staff still upraised. A tiny plume of smoke licked off the headpiece.
Aemos? Aemos!'
'I've... dispossessed it... for a moment...' Aemos said without turning round. His voice was low and his words were emerging only by huge effort. '.. .So it's weak. .. and confused. .. but that won't. .. last. .. we need. .. a proper host vessel. .. for it to. .. occupy. ..'
He turned to face us. The destruction of the astropath's host body had singed his clothes and knocked his eyeglasses off.
'What did you do with it?' I asked.
He didn't answer. The effort would have been too great. Aemos would only ever say two more words to me.
'Aemos, what did you do with it?' I repeated.
He opened his eyes. They were blank. Completely blank.
It took us ten minutes to make the daemonhost safe, ten minutes we really didn't have. I was encumbered by the fact I couldn't move unaided. Eleena had to hold the Malus Codicium for me as I did the work, making the marks and runes and wardings with blood from my own wounds. I recalled the same hasty rituals I had performed on the beach at Miquol.
'Come on!' Kara urged.
'There! It's done! Aemos, can you hear me? It's done!'
His old hands were shaking. He lowered the staff. I could see his mouth trying to form the words, but he couldn't manage it.
But I knew this part. The incantation, the litany, the abduration against evil. The final sealing words.
'In servitutem abduco, I bind thee fast forever into this host!'
Medea nearly burned out the lift-jets of Maxilla's bulk pinnace getting us clear of the hangar deck. Everything shook. It didn't have anything like the kick of the old gun-cutter, but she nursed every last ounce of thrust she could out of it.
We managed to get about sixteen kilometres from the Essene when the first of the real spasms shook it. The majestic sprint-trader, Isolde-pattern, pride of its master, looked like a black shell to us, lit from within by raging atomic fires, spilling trails of debris behind it as it slowly tumbled into the embrace of the gas giant.
There was a small bright flash and then two more, almost simultaneous, like a flicker. Then a white dot appeared where the Essene had been, and grew bigger, and then became a white line that got brighter and longer and closer, until we could see it was the flaming edge of a huge expanding disk of nuclear energy.
The pinnace vibrated frantically like a bead rattle in the hand of an excited child as the Shockwave seared past and around us.
Then it was quiet, and still again.
And the Essene was gone.
Aemos was crumpled in one of the high-backed acceleration seats in the pinnace's passenger space. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow and ragged.
Kara helped me to the seat next to him. She was saying something urgent about improving the tourniquets and field dressings on my legs but I didn't really hear her.
'Uber?'
As if I had disturbed him in his sleep, he opened his eyes. They were his eyes again. Bloodshot, old, blinking to focus without his eyeglasses.
His breath sounds were getting worse.
'You hold on,' I said. 'There's a portable medicae unit in the cargo section, Eleena's trying to get it working.'
He grunted something and swallowed.
'What?' 1 said.
He surprised me by suddenly taking my blood-stained hand and gripping it tightly. He turned his head slowly and squinted at the daemonhost we had made together. It sat, strapped into its seat, on the other side of the aisle, head bowed and dormant.
'Most...' he whispered. 'Most perturbatory...'
I was going to reply, but his grip had slackened, his breathing had stopped. My oldest friend had gone.
I sat back, gazing at the cabin roof. The sensations that I had been blocking swept in and overwhelmed me.
I felt frail, as if I was m
ade of paper. I knew I had lost a huge quantity of blood.
The pain in my legs was like fire, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my heart.
I heard Kara calling my name. She called it again. I heard Eleena asking me to say something.
But the void had come up like a wall, and they were too far away to hear.
NINETEEN
In the Halls of Yssarile.
Leaves of Darkness.
In the name of the Holy God-Emperor.
Someone, somewhere close by, was using one of those damned shuriken catapults. I could hear the jhut! jhut! jhut! of the launcher mechanism and the thin, brittle sounds of the impacts.
There was blood in my mouth, I noticed. I'd worry about it later. Crezia would fuss no doubt. 'You should not be doing this/ she had warned me fiercely in the infirmary of the Hinterlight.
Well, that's where she was wrong. This was the Emperor's work. This was my work.
'Moving up/ Nayl said over the intervox. 'Twenty paces/
'Understood/ I replied. I stepped forward. It was still an effort, and still very much a surprise to feel my body so wretchedly slow. The crude aug-metic braces around my legs and torso weighed me down and forced me to plod, like an ogre from the old myths.
Or like a Battle Titan, I considered, ruefully. One heavy footstep after the next, lumbering to my destiny.
It was the best work Crezia and Antribus had been able to manage given the time and the resources available. Crezia had passionately wanted me confined to vital support until I could be delivered to a top level Imperial facility.
I'd insisted on being mobile.
'If we throw together repairs now/ she had said, 'it'll be worse in the long term. To get you walking we'll have to do things that no amount of later
work can repair, no matter how excellent.'
'Just do it,' I'd said. For the opportunity to reach Pontius Glaw, I'd happily sacrifice prosthetic sophistication. All I needed was function.
Barbarisater trembled in my right fist as it sensed a bio-aura, but I relaxed. It was Kara Swole.
She jogged back down the chasm towards me, dressed in a tight, green armoured bodyglove and a thick, quilted flak coat. She had a dust visor on, and a fat-nosed compact handcannon slung over her shoulder.
