Well, everyone, here we are, already in February

And with a considerably shorter chapter than you probably expected, having given me all this time, I know. Let's just say that 2013 has been nuts thus far. I was feeling sick about New Years, but I figured I was just tired because my sister had come up from Georgia (the state, not the country) and I had the sniffles because everyone has the sniffles right now.

Of course, a week went by of me feeling like absolute crap and I ended up in the hospital for four days with pneumonia (which sucks like a boss, don't get it) and a 104 fever. Then they sent me home with insanely strong antibiotics (and the kind of cough syrup Doctor Trixie would give out – you know, with the codeine) and the command of bed rest for another ten days, which completely screwed the classes I'd signed up for.

During that time my war-dog (the black lab I got thirteen Christmases before this last one who had become the unofficial mascot of my gaming group) passed away; I'm still seriously bummed about it. If anyone's had a pet that long they know it becomes a member of the family. Writing was just really hard, and even when I wanted to, the codeine made it so that I'd pull my computer into my lap and fall asleep reading what I'd already written.

I finally got a clean bill of health, went back to work, and then promptly took the "vacation" time I'd already scheduled so that I could go to a WWII reenacting event and sell charity calendars and other pinup-related paraphernalia. I barely had time for sleep (with reveille at 0530 and parties until 0330 or whenever the prop-blast knocked me out), much less writing, and the day after I left there I returned to work. So here is me on my first day off, when I should be unpacking and bringing things to the dry cleaners, writing for you. Sorry it's not much; I'm hoping that 2013 has decided it's kicked my butt enough to settle down now. (Note from five days later: it hasn't. A friend of mine was killed on impact in a three-car accident caused by black ice, and another friend's dad died of a massive stroke. 2013 can kiss my bum.)

For actual author-y-type notes, I'd like to thank Someone Took My Name ; a while back he had feared that I'd lost inspiration (instead of simply having zilch on time) and gave me a suggestion for a playmate for Ellie. Now, way, way back in brainstorming before I decided Ellie needed solitary confinement on the Black Ship, I'd given her a friend – but the idea fell by the wayside. S.T.M.N.'s suggestion reminded me of it; I also warned that he probably didn't want me using his character (you'll see why) but the inspiration was there and while I took the idea in my own direction, here's credit where credit is due. Also, props if you got that ice cream was seriously out of character for Pieter and was actually Blackmoon's suggestion.

We'll be taking a break here in Of Worth until I finish that "Meet V" segment in Burning Bridges, but it shouldn't take too long to make. That part of this story was decided upon a long, long time ago.

All the best,

-Geist

Part 3 – The Shadowed Council

Chapter 15 – Perils

He had been watching her for almost an hour, now. Not with undivided attention, of course; she would have considered that staring, which she'd been taught was incomprehensibly rude (and certainly would have told him so). Most often, when she stole a quick glance up through her lashes, his head was ostensibly bowed over a book, much like hers. Every few moments, though, she'd get that odd sensation that someone's eyes were on her, and she'd catch him peering curiously across the tables at her for longer than she would personally deem necessary. She wondered if she should tell her Master about it.

The Inquisitor Lord was in a different part of the vast librarium, though, with his own matters to attend. He'd left her at one of the long tables in a corner of the establishment with a book containing her arithmetic lesson and a list of equations to complete before he returned. If he got back and she wasn't finished, things might turn ugly fast: especially if all she had to offer was an excuse that some strange boy kept staring at her.

The boy in question had come to this section after she had; parting with whom she could only assume was his own master before setting himself up two tables away and facing her. He was perhaps three years older than she was, and pleasant-looking enough. He hadn't said a word to her, which was fine, considering she truly was trying to work; it was his non-conversational attention that she found distracting, and she wasn't quite sure how to handle this sort of situation.

On the Lacertus, she supposed, she might have offered a friendly wave or a smile, but she was certain the moment she did, her Master would round the corner, catch on to an act he'd later call something like 'insipidly blithe civility,' and toss her back in his suite until they left Scintilla. She wasn't sure what sort of policy he held about making friends or interacting with people her own age, but she couldn't imagine it being –

"There's a quicker way to do that, you know."

She looked up to find earnest brown eyes in a thin, pale face topped with unruly chestnut hair staring at her work over her shoulder. The boy had packed up his satchel and must've been passing by her on his way out – or he'd finally just decided to come over after an hour of watching. Her brow crossed slightly and she slowly shook her head.

"Here, I learned this last year." Without preamble he deposited his pack and sat next to her, pulling her notebook towards him. "You write it like this and then flip it, right? Now this and this cancel out and this reduces here," he crossed out certain numbers and substituted others, "and when you multiply across you won't have to factor it." He pushed the pages back to her with an easy, lopsided grin, "See?"

She looked his work over for a moment and then offered a shy, grateful smile and nodded. It was going to save her time getting the list of equations finished.

"Show me on this one," he pointed to the next problem on her list and leaned in so close that her elbow bumped him as she wrote.

"Sorry –"

"No sweat," he brushed it off and backed up a bit. "Yeah, you can take the five out of both of those – that makes this a one and this a three and boom, you're done." She bit her lip, smiling in accomplishment as she turned back to him to see that he, too, was smiling. "I'm Con, by the way." He stuck out a thin hand, knocking into the tip of her pen and sending a few dots of ink to land in the lower corner of the page. "Sorry – Constantine Schley – I'm Lord Inquisitor Andreus's apprentice."

"Ellie," she took the hand that dwarfed her own and shook it politely, "Giselle Reiker."

"Lord Inquisitor Mordekai's new apprentice – yeah. I thought I recognized you. That was the most lively Council meeting I've been to, and we've pretty much lived here for six months. So you're a psyker, too, huh?" He angled his head to get a better view of the mark on her neck.

She self-consciously rubbed at the bumps of the brand and inclined her head. "And you?"

The boy nodded vigorously and rolled up his jumper sleeve, showing her the branding scar on the inside of his forearm. It wasn't black like hers was, and so long as he had on a proper shirt it would be easy to hide. She couldn't tell if that it was more unfair or unsafe. Everyone would know she was a monster with one glance, but at least they'd know what to expect.

Con rolled his sleeve back down and Ellie noticed a rip in it, inspecting the long tear. "What happened?"

"Oh, I got caught on some exposed rebar near the construction zone. Andreus told me not to run, but – you know how it is. It was bleedin' something awful, too. Lucky thing, psyking – I only got the details of healing down last week and look: not even a scratch." He proudly twisted his arm this way and that.

"I'm fairly sure I could do it," she mused as she worked on her problem set, "I just haven't."

"You definitely need to try, then," Con told her seriously. "It's no good if you think you can and then find out you can't when your guts are fallin' out."

Ellie felt her nose unconsciously crinkle in disgust. She'd have to talk to her Master about working on it.

"Finish up your work and then we can go practice," the boy instructed, crossing his arms eagerly and settling in.

Once they found Lord Inquisitor Mordekai, she signaled Con to stay back a few paces while she handled this; if she got shot down, she didn't want him in trouble, too. Carefully positioning herself between the two and schooling the nervousness from her voice, she ventured, "Master?"

He must've known she was there – he hadn't moved a muscle, not even to look down at her. "Did I not leave you with a lesson to complete?" She could hear the subtle bite of impatience and annoyance just at the edge of his tone. Con probably hadn't caught it, but she knew: she was on shaky ground.

She took a deep breath and confirmed, "You did, Master, and I'm finished," and then rushed on before he could tell her off for leaving the place he'd left her, "so may we please go practice?" She couldn't help the timbre of eagerness that crept in; the boy could do things she hadn't even thought of and she desperately wanted to see.

Her Master finally turned his head in her direction, the gaze that seemed like it could cut through the armor of a tank rested first on her, then swept over her shoulder to settle on Con. He was evaluating her new friend – she'd learned that look well over the last few months: the discomfiting, probing stare amid an otherwise blank expression that offered no indication of his opinion. She sent up a silent prayer that Con wasn't fidgeting.

The Inquisitor Lord took one step toward her that ate up the entire space between them, and then another past – now he was standing between her and the other apprentice. Ellie held her breath as he loomed over Con and demanded in his rumble, "Whose are you, boy?"

She peered through her Master's legs, waiting for the response. She heard his introduction, ripe with a confidence she wasn't sure whether he actually felt, "Constantine Schley, my lord, I'm Lord Inquisitor Martell Andreus's."

A long moment of silence ensued, and then her Master ordered, "Take me to him."

Con led him through the stacks, Ellie trailing behind after having been quelled by a thunderous glare when she tried to move forward to walk near her new friend. She recognized the man Con had parted with earlier as they approached; he looked up toward them and a blatantly smug sort of grin crept over his mouth. Con's master was wiry and had the air of someone who, whether by nature or extended practice, was more flippant and sly than she would personally consider prudent. He moved directly to her Master, holding out his hand toward the power-armored one (she noted with some curiosity that he wore no armor at all), and greeted him as if well-acquainted, "Mordekai."

"Andreus," he responded coolly with a brief shake and that still-piercing gaze. Her Master gave the impression that they'd never met and that he knew the man by reputation alone.

"I see you found my boy – he's causing trouble?" She was acutely aware that one wrong word could send the whole endeavor askew.

"No, they," he glanced first to Con and then over his shoulder at where Ellie stood nervously trying to not wring her hands, "want to play." The word 'play' was said with an inference that she didn't quite understand.

"He probably wants to show off," Andreus said with a chuckle, as if she and Con weren't even there. "There should be a free room down the hall."

When a room had been cleared out, the Inquisitors afforded them a small measure of open space to work in, though her Master had set her a few paces apart from Con and closer to himself. She wasn't sure why he was acting so formally about this; on the Lacertus she'd been allowed to play with Merica – or even Dorn – on her own. Con drew beside her, elbowing her ribs lightly to draw her attention away from her Master, and then retreating the space he'd closed due to Lord Inquisitor Mordekai's ensuing glare.

"This was the first one I ever did," he grinned and drew in a deep breath. She watched carefully as he took a moment to focus; the itch of ozone began, she could feel the power gathering in him. She tried to absorb everything about it – every mote of order she could glean. And then he flung his arms out wide and there was a blindingly white flash of light and a deafening concussion surrounding him. So completely unexpected, it stunned her for a moment and when orientation finally came back, she needed to blink furiously to focus. Con was hunched over slightly, shaking, and the high pitch ringing in her ears gave way to the sound of him laughing. He was saying something but she only caught the end of, "-ould have seen your face!" When he noticed she wasn't laughing along he peered at her, still grinning, "You alright?"

She nodded while forcing a smile, not wanting to look weak in front of her Master – or Con's. Andreus had leaned against a cabinet toward Mordekai and remarked conversationally, "Obnoxious little cur, isn't he?" Her Master lifted one noncommittal brow and then shifted his focus back to the proceedings.

"Show me your first, now," the older boy instructed as he took a precautionary step back.

Her face swiveled to the Lord Inquisitor Mordekai for approval. If someone asked her, she wouldn't have been able to explain what prompted that, but some instinctive part of her stuttered and hesitated at taking an order from anyone who wasn't him. His eyebrows shifted – one raised a bit and the other flattened; the tiny nuance of expression might as well have demanded, 'what are you waiting for?'

As Ellie drew her feather from her pocket, she heard the other Inquisitor quip, "Obedient little thing. Wish mine was." If her Master had any response to that, she missed it, focusing solely on the routine of harnessing the power before she unleashed it. She swallowed carefully and let the feather go. It started to float toward the ground, and she smiled gently as she reached out her awareness towards it – soft, familiar – and her will swept it back up and into its intricate dance. Her Master had censured her for showing off the first time, but it felt somehow appropriate now.

When she'd sufficiently recreated that first event, she guided the feather back to her pocket and stole a glance at Con. He looked confused, as if he didn't quite understand the complexity of what he'd just witnessed, or perhaps that he would never desire to do something like it. His master, who seemed to be amusing himself with running commentary, offered, "That was… delicate," in a dubious sort of tone that she couldn't help but feel slightly offended by. "Go on, Con," he bid his apprentice, "do something subtle."

This time when Con focused and made a funny wave with his hand, she could feel something fluttering against the edges of her mind. She'd hurled all her will back at her grandfather when he'd stabbed at her; this time she only had to brush Con off, like crumbs off her lap. The next moment, he walked directly up to her and extended his hand, "I'm Constantine Schley."

She frowned at him, then at his hand, then back at him, and replied with a baffled, "…I know."

"It's nice to – wait… you do?"

"Con, you introduced yourself in the librarium not an hour ago and helped me with my fractions. How could I not know?"

The boy rounded on his master and demanded almost petulantly, "What happened? Why didn't she forget?"

Andreus rolled his eyes and answered with a superior droll, "She's not a weak-minded serf, kid, and you didn't exactly pull all the stops, did you? If I've told you once, I've said it a dozen times: if you don't put oomph into it, you won't affect anything with a constitution bigger than a grape."

Ellie had to work on stifling her snigger, staring at the floor and biting her tongue to keep the grin away. Con's failure wouldn't have been funny if he hadn't startled her so badly with his blinding and deafening display. Even if it felt like he'd gotten what was coming to him, and no matter how badly she was tempted, she knew her Master would never approve of sticking her tongue out.

"Go on, doll," the other Inquisitor said, even as his apprentice made a soft 'harrumph' and crossed his arms, "show us something good." Her Master gave the slightest of nods, and she was left to consider what might be 'good' enough to get a response better than 'delicate.'

She lifted her hand to chest height, palm towards her, and regarded it a moment while focusing – she'd been getting better at this ever since the grox. Just before she released her will, though, she had an idea. When her hand vanished, she knew the rest of her had as well. At the same time, though, she picked a spot just next to Con: with a bit of extra 'oomph', her image appeared there. He was the one that was startled this time. She bit her lip and grinned. Turnabout was fair play, after all.

After a few seconds her image vanished and she reappeared. Andreus was telling Con that that was something worth learning, but she wasn't particularly interested in his reaction. Instead, she sent an oblique glance through her lashes in her Master's direction. There was the most miniscule of shifts in one of his brows, and a tic in his cheek that pulled the corner of his mouth up for less than a heartbeat. She bowed her head and smiled contentedly. He'd said he trusted she would find a way to make up for being little – it seemed like maybe cleverness would do the trick.

"Something worthwhile this time, Con," his master ordered in a withering timbre and she turned to watch him. He took extra time to focus, then in one fluid motion leaned back, spread his arms, and opened his mouth wide. She heard the noise ripping through the warp before it slammed through the barrier between realities and came out in an aggrieved, massive howl that drowned out even the sound of her own breathing.

She thought that it would die down in a moment or so, but it continued on, and then there was a streak of malignant energy that arced between Con's outstretched hands. Instinct clutched her gut and warned her that something had gone horribly wrong. Another bolt of energy shot out, then another, and another, increasing in speed and size, and then the energy burst outwards, and all she knew was fiery agony that she was sure would consume her and the crack of her head on the floor as she fell.

The world had gone dark, and when she opened her eyes, everything was hazy and too bright. She had no idea how long she'd been out. Tilting her head to look around, she realized she was still on the floor and in terrible pain. It must've only been seconds.

She had landed on her side, facing Con, who was also on the ground and appeared to be in far worse shape than she was. His body was literally smoking, crumpled and naked and burned, but still breathing. He was alive and hurt, and though she'd never done it before, she knew she could help make him better.

She reached her fingers towards him, concentrating as much as she could, drawing the power in, and forging it into energy to mend his skin, his muscle – anything. She sent it out over the few meters between them, sure that he would be alright, now.

And then he screamed.

He screamed in a way that turned her blood to ice – what happened? What had she done wrong? She was so sure she knew what she was doing – but he was shuddering in new agony and begging the Throne for mercy and all she could do was look on dumbly.

Pain blossomed from her scalp, like someone had snarled her hair and started dragging her up by it, followed by a nauseating throb as a rough hand closed over the burnt flesh of her upper arm. They both tightened briefly, tore out a handful of curls, and then they were gone and her head hit the ground again as she heard the heavy crash of a body slamming into a wall.

Seeing stars, she looked to where she thought she heard the thud to see Con's master crumpled on the ground, rolling himself onto hands and knees and glowering ferally past his still screaming apprentice in her direction. Making a quick mental adjustment, she weakly reached toward Con to try the healing again.

"Check, Giselle," her Master snapped, and her body locked up. What the…? The command had spoken to some hypno-indoctrinated failsafe he'd planted in her brain and shut her down completely, stopping her progress, and then causing her to go slightly limp. She used the last of her energy to roll onto her back with a quiet whimper. Her shoulder contacted the top of his boot as she gazed up to him; a wave of fresh energy tore through her at the point of contact and she couldn't help the weak cry that escaped her. His power forced her burnt flesh to harden up like a scab in a matter of seconds, then the scab ripped off in the space between breaths. There was new, whole skin beneath, though, and despite her hands shaking terribly, she was alright.

He stepped over her, paused next to Con, and then stepped over him as well. She scrabbled forward, finding the boy just as healthy as she was now, and took him by the arm and side, helping him to stand. He leaned heavily on her at first, and then as soon as he was on his bare feet, he recoiled as if contact with her had further burned him. She staggered back a few paces, hand to her heart, hurt when her intentions had been nothing but good, and began to search his face before a harsh cracking noise behind him stole her attention.

Her Master had picked Con's up by the front of his tunic with one gauntleted fist and roughly shoved and pinned him against the wall. Their faces were very close together. In one of the calmest voices she'd ever heard him use, Lord Inquisitor Mordekai conveyed to his peer, "Touch what is mine again, and the Emperor will step down from the Throne before they find so much as a scrap of you." His grip tightened for a moment, and then he dropped the other man as if he meant nothing, and turned away.

"Come," he bid her as he made his way to the door, "and don't look back."

Some time later, when she was finished with her reading for the evening, she crossed the living quarters in the suite and sat at her Master's feet, curling her legs beneath her and resting her cheek against the smooth ceramite at his shin. With a quiet voice and crossed brow, she asked, "What happened?"

"Peril," he answered, slightly preoccupied with whatever he was reading.

"Will it happen to me?" the thought frightened her quite a bit.

"Almost inevitable," his nose was still in the tome he'd taken from the librarium. "The stronger the force you use, the brighter your soul burns in the Warp, and that calls to all manner of things desperate to get through."

Another long moment of silence came, and she pondered, "I hurt him when I meant to help…" the memory of Con's screaming was burned into her brain.

"There's only so much energy the human body can absorb," he said, as if that explained everything.

"Yes, but – what did I do wrong?"

"You always heal yourself first," he replied, completely missing her point. She was about to protest that that wasn't what she'd meant – and it wouldn't have made a difference – if the healing hadn't worked on Con –

She felt his hand on her head, and his voice was tinged with something she couldn't quite put her finger on as he rumbled almost gently, "I can't stand at your side forever. And you can't trust anyone else to save you, Giselle."

For all my Dark Heresy players out there, what happened:

Round 1 – Con used Flashbang. Ellie used Spectral Hands.

Round 2 – Con used Forget Me (Ellie won the Willpower Test, though). Ellie used Distort Vision.

Round 3 – Con used Warp Howl, but then got the Peril Cataclysmic Blast: "The Psyker's power overloads, arcing out in great bolts of warp energy. Anyone within 2d10 meters of him (including the Psyker) takes 1d10+5 Energy Damage and all the Psyker's clothing and gear are destroyed, leaving him naked and smoking on the ground." Con took 4 Critical Energy Damage to the Body: "The energy ripples all over the character, scorching his body and inflicting 1d10 levels of Fatigue." That 1d10 was more than Con's toughness could bear, knocking him out. Ellie took 3 Critical Energy Damage to the Body: "The attack cooks off the flesh on the chest and abdomen, inflicting 2 levels of Fatigue and leaving the target Stunned for 1 Round.

Round 4 – Con was unconscious. Ellie was stunned.

Round 5 – Con was still unconscious. Ellie used Healer; if you all remember, though, Con had used this power on himself earlier to take care of his arm, and "[r]epeated uses of this power can be dangerous, however, not to mention painful, and the person's flesh rebels against the intrusion of warp energy. If a person (including the Psyker) is the subject of this power more than once in a six hour period, they must Test Toughness or take 1d5 points of Damage (with no reduction for Toughness Bonus or Armour), rather than being healed." Con obviously failed his Toughness Test.

If you don't play Dark Heresy and still read all that, for reference, when Ellie started play as a Rank 1 character at the age of 23 (um, spoiler: she lives that long), she had 8 wounds. 1d10+5 is a LOT of damage, especially for a baby psyker. Warp Perils are no joke, yo.