Chapter Nineteen

Divinus Prime.

The transport ship banked hard, screaming through the clouds. Every part of it was rattling and clanging as it dived towards Volgatis. Antros wondered which would come away first, the wings or the tail fins.

Captain Vatrenus sat with the Techmarine, Gallus, at the front of the cockpit. Gallus punched the controls with what seemed to be arbitrary violence and klaxons barked as they hurtled towards the ground. A jet of smoke whistled from somewhere near Antros' head.

"Volgatis in three minutes," muttered Rhacelus, strapped into the seat beside Antros.

Mephiston grunted a curse, sounding in pain.

"My lord?" said Rhacelus, looking over at Mariah and the Chief Librarian.

Since they had left the ground, Mephiston's tremors had grown worse and every few seconds trails of dark lightening would crackle across his skin, and his eyes would cloud over with blood. He was clutching at his left arm constantly. The higher they flew, the more violent the tremors became.

"Should we land?" asked Rhacelus. "We will reach the fortress in moments."

"Something is coming," said Mephiston, staring at the floor of the cabin. "Ready the guns," he said. "We will need-"

Something heavy slammed into the side of the transport ship.

A new set of klaxons started blaring as the aircraft rolled on to its side.

"Throne!" growled Gallus, struggling to grip the controls as part of the dashboard tore free.

"What was that?" asked Antros, staring through the armoured glass.

The air was a riot of colours; pink and blue shapes were spiralling all around them.

Another weight slammed against the fuselage, then another.

"Daemons!" snapped Gallus, triggering a barrage of Las-blasts.

The cockpit lit up, and Antros saw liquid blue shapes disintegrating all around them, rippled from the sky.

There was a tearing sound from beneath their seats as another of the daemons thudded into the ship.

Lights flashed on the controls. "Two minutes to Volgatis," said Gallus.

More daemons smashed against the hull and this time, some if them managed to latch on. Something hammered against the transport, right beside Antros. Then a pink heaving mass smashed through the fuselage, reaching out towards him. Its face consisted of gaping, incisor-crammed jaws, snarling and slavering in it flesh. It thrashed furiously from side to side, trying to bury its teeth into Antros' face as he held it at arm's length. It was clutching a long ornate blade and drew it back to stab at him.

Antros recited a passage from The Glutted Scythe. Lightening pulsed through his hand, ripping the daemon's face apart. It screamed wildly and flew back, but as it tumbled away it hurled Antros with it.

He cried out, shocked by the daemon's strength as it wretched him through the broken fuselage and out onto the wing of the aircraft. A mortal man would have been hurled to his death, but Antros gripped one of the wing's exposed ribs, hanging on even as the aircraft howled up through the clouds.

The daemon drew back its sword to strike but Antros called out another invocation and blasted it apart.

Antros reached back towards the hole he had been wretched through but, before he could drag himself through, he saw that the remnants of the daemon's flesh had slapped down on the wing, reformed into blue-skinned daemons that were equally as grotesque as the one that had birthed them.

They threw themselves at Antros with a peevish, whining sound, mouths opening in the centre of their contorted chests.

Antros caught the first daemon in his fist and pummelled it onto the wing with a flash of psychic energy. This time he scorched it into a blackened husk, avoiding any further rebirths.

The second daemon thudded into him and they both crashed back inside the aircraft.

Mariah went to help him.

"Mariah you stay with Mephiston and help him stay in control, and I will go and help Antros," said Rhacelus.

Antros was sprawled across the broken seats as the whining daemon thrashed and lunged at him, talons and blades clattering against his power armour.

Rhacelus' sword came down through its neck and crimson fire lashed across it shifting flesh, lighting it up in a dazzling display of sparks.

The daemon fell back and Antros booted it through the hole, sending it plunging through the clouds. Then he lay still for a moment, breathing heavily as the transport ship lurched and juddered beneath him.

Another series of blows struck the aircraft and more of the windows broke, filling the cabin with noise and fumes.

"We won't make it," said Mephiston, raising his voice above the din. "Two minutes is too long. Climb," he said.

Gallus yanked the controls back and they sliced through the clouds with the daemons screaming up after them.

"When shell I level out?" cried Gallus, struggling to be heard. Ahead of them was the mirror image of Divinus Prime that filled the heavens. Antros could see clouds and the transport ship reflected as they had been a few minutes earlier, before the daemons attacked.

"Keep climbing!" shouted Mephiston.

"My lord," Gallus sounded surprised. "Into the…?"

Mephiston nodded.

As they approached the miracle, Mariah gripped on to Mephiston's arm and, Antros felt the urge to hold his breath, as though they were about to break the surface of a lake.

Then they were through.

Sound vanished. The klaxons, the screaming wind, everything; it all stopped, enveloping the transport ship in silence.

Antros laughed as ideas exploded in his mind. A thousand revelations hit him at once.

"Dive," whispered Mephiston.

Brother Gallus did not respond. He had the same dazed expression as Antros. "Everything..." he muttered, shaking his head and frowning.

Captain Vatrenus cursed and lent over, grabbing the controls and shoving them into a dive.

Fury boiled through Antros as he realised Vatrenus was about to rob him of the wondrous insights that were blossoming in his mind. He lent forwards to wrestle the controls from the captain's grip. He was too late. Deafening reality exploded around them once more. The klaxons and turbulence seemed all the more cacophonous after the silence of the miracle.

"We've reached Volgatis," said Brother Gallus, confused, looking at the controls.

They were surrounded by mountain peaks and directly in front of then were the soaring gates of Volgatis.

They were about to smash straight into them.

Brother Gallus yanked the controls but there was no way they would clear the wall. The battlements hurtled towards them, crowded with battling figures and lit up by dozens of raging fires.

Mephiston and Mariah cried out in a language that Antros did not recognise, and time slowed to a crawl.

They should have smashed into the battlements but, instead, they were surrounded by a torpid blur of crawling shapes.

Mephiston was clutching something in his fist and Antros realised it was the object he had snatched from Dravus. He was studying it closely. Then he looked up at the hazy outlines outside the ship.

"We will have to be quick." He looked around at the other Blood Angels. "The impact will be slow, but no less lethal if we are crushed between the wreckage and the wall. Follow my lead."

They all nodded and, a few seconds later, the ship began to shudder and groan, crumpling towards them, concertina-like, in slow motion. It was as though it were made of paper and someone was carefully folding it away.

"Now," said Mephiston, opening his door, then grabbing Mariah and stepping out into the smear of colours with Mariah.

Antros and the others followed. The world was an abstract collage in which nothing made sense, but Antros was relieved to feel solid ground crunching beneath his boots.

They took a few steps and Mephiston indicated they should crouch. Then Mephiston and Mariah turned back to the collapsing transport ship and spoke again in the obscure tongue they had used earlier.

The world regained its usual momentum with a scream of tearing metal and boom of exploding fuel tanks.

Heat washed over Antros and he saw that they were crouched near a gun emplacement at the top of the wall – a gun emplacement that was now crushed beneath the blazing wreckage of the transport ship they had just rammed into the fortress. The scene was so chaotic that the crashed aircraft was barely noticed. Every inch of the fortifications was crowded with battling figures. Not far from the Blood Angels, Seraphim were pounding down from a watchtower towards the walkway at the top of the wall, jump packs roaring as they hurtled towards a heaving throng of daemons, their bolt pistols blazing.

The daemons bounded over the battlements and sprinted forwards, gibbering ecstatically, oblivious to the ferocity of the sisters' gunfire. A forest of pink limbs and flaming tentacles slapped across the stone, some landing only a few feet away from Antros,

as the Sisters of Battle landed on the top of the wall, they drew chainswords and hacked into the daemons, finally halting their advance not far from the smouldering wreckage of the transport ship.

Captain Vatrenus and the rest of the Blood Angels rushed across the walls to join the Sisters as Antros and Rhacelus strode through the fire and surveyed the scene. The Sisters were being enveloped by countless horrors but they held their ground, hacking into the waves of daemons with no sign of fear or hesitation.

As the Blood Angels fired careful, precise shots into the fray, the Seraphim raised their voices, singing wild, amplified hymns as they tore into the daemons.

Antros and Rhacelus raced to join their brothers, their weapons blazing into life as they crossed the wall.

It was only as they crashed into the enemy that Antros realised that there was no sign of Mephiston and Mariah.