His body went limp when the reactor fire retreated. Blood was pounding in my temples at the echo of pain. I had to put an end to this.

There was something uncanny in his tone I hadn't encountered yet in Space Marines of the present generation. But I was aware there were Chapters aplenty all over the galaxy, some of them peculiar indeed. I reached out with my psyker-sight to have a glimpse of his mind but he spoke to me again.

'Take care, that attracts the daemons' attention you won't like.'

'Are you really one of the Emperor's warriors?' I decided to ask him the problematic question openly.

'Of course, I fought for the Emperor, and fought with valour.'

Relieved, I touched the sorcerous shackles. My own power wasn't enough to unlock them with will alone, but the solution was closer than I thought. A wand of shimmering seer crystal was fixed on the edge of the net, visible to the captive but out of his reach. I pulled it out of the holder and touched the sigil over the captive's right wrist.

He freed his arm with astonishing prowess and snatched the wand out of my hands. In a few seconds he was already standing on the floor. Fresh blood streamed from the sockets when he ripped the cables out without a sound of pain. His mask cracked in half at the touch of the key, and his unbound psychic might struck me like an electric shock. I caught a vague scrap of the man's memories. Nothing relevant to our business. Gulls crying over a bank of sand dunes. Salty smell of the sea.

He gave me a nudge and dumped the wand to the reactor. Halves of his split mask fell to the floor. He brushed his grimy mane of tangled hair from his forehead and gave me a smile. A smug, almost relaxed smile I'd have expected from Aphedron, not Angel or even Raaf.

'This boring wanker will miss me, while I won't miss this nice place at all. If you already rescued me from my prison, girl, let's do a few more useful things together, and I'll be ready to return your favour,' he said heading to the hatch.

'You speak in quite a free manner, sir. I would bet you're one of the Space Wolves but they would hardly ever ask for help.' I tried to find at least one distinctive feature in his outlook but soot covered all possible tattoos or other marks.

He laughed so as if I'd just told him a very funny joke. 'Good that you try learning more about people. That's essential to your Inquisitor office of great responsibility.'

'Why do you know?' Before embarking, I had ensured that my outlook was totally mundane.

'The way you ask questions. And your thoughts you hadn't bothered to hide from me.'

I scratched my head. 'Well, because you turned out to be an ally. I still wish I knew more about your background.'

'Knowing isn't always a blessing. An old friend of mine has learned it in a hard way. Don't follow his example and wait a bit till we're out of this sorrowful scrapyard.' He climbed up to the manhole and pulled me up.

He navigated the passages of the barge better than me, so I just followed him through the machine compartment until he stopped before a ventilation grate.

'Sir, you're welcome aboard the rogue trader vessel I'm currently travelling on,' I said. His powers must be used for my business. 'As you're back to your duties, I need your assistance in a mission vital to the security of this sector. I've just had the Staff of Everchange taken away from Limax who planned to use it against the Imperium on Myristica.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'A famous weapon. You were truly close to turning into a Chaos Spawn. Was it your faith that saved you, or...'

I ignored the weird hint. 'More heretical things have been discovered on Myristica by Ordo Malleus. A squad of Rubric Marines sold a few years ago by a mysterious merchant.'

'Wow, everything at once. I just cannot stay away from this quest of real importance.'

I smiled. 'Perfect, thank you.'

He winked at me and pointed at the shuttle bay. His mighty aura veiled us from sight so we just passed through a serf crowd unnoticed. On looking back, I saw that cameras and screens were turned off in the whole area we crossed. With swift, accustomed gestures he unlocked a shuttle and invited me in with a bow of half-mocking courtesy.

'We won't draw attention to your vessel right now.' He leaned over the panel and chose an already established route to the port. 'Let's visit some buddies down there.'

When the shuttle landed, Oldhaven's sun had just set. I walked out to a quiet lakeshore in the shadow of an orange grove. Piles of waste and extinguished campfires added in a note of desolation to the evening calm. The librarian took a deep breath looking at the ripples on the lake, then ran down to the water. He jumped in with a loud kerplunk, and a black stain spread over the weekend flotsam of wine bottles and plastic packages.

His head showed above the surface, dirty water running down his fiery red mane. An unsettling colour, a stray thought popped into my mind. He scrubbed his shoulder, and I saw a large scarlet tattoo on his tawny skin. First I thought it was an eagle but when he turned towards the light, I understood it was a phoenix with raised angular wings. There was a 'Know your ally' app on my slate that was supposed to have a database of emblems from all chapters, guard regiments and other orders and unions. I came closer and caught the tattoo in the frame of the app scanner. 'Image not recognized. Refresh the database at the nearest citadel of your Ordo.'

I rubbed my forehead and put the dataslate back to the pouch. He waved at me splashing in the water as if he was on a beach holiday.

'Girl, you saw what remained of my suit. Be a friend and lend me your scarf until we buy new clothes in the port.'

He talked to me with an ease of an old acquaintance. No hostility, even distance, though he knew my occupation. I wasn't sure whether marines ever cozied up to anyone but nothing in his behaviour sounded definitely Chaotic.

'Surprising that you haven't said a single catchphrase about things like my shield is contempt, purge the unclean and other bullshit yet,' I said unwrapping the scarf.

He burst out laughing. 'Variety, only variety is the spice of life. Those who repeat the same bullshit daily have their heads replaced with chunks of wood and are sent to build walls or lay siege to the already built.' He caught the end of the scarf and squeezed the fabric with a content look. Very content for someone who'd just escaped from a place of grievous torture. 'Hand-knitting. Maybe that's a more practical talent of yours than running after heretics and witches.'

'That's how I usually spend days and weeks of warp travels. Otherwise, my brain would have exploded long ago.'

'Wait for a few minutes there in the bushes while I'm dressing up.'

Taught to avoid being naked in front of others, so probably raised on a civilised world. When I hid behind an orange tree, I felt a powerful surge in the warp. The librarian walked up to me in a loincloth made out of my scarf, bloodied plugs on his sided vanished without even scars. He crossed his arms looking at the port lights in the distance.

'Let's see what curious we can find in this jolly place.'

The port met us with a mayhem of neon lights and rowdy music. Drunkards were hobbling from bar to bar holding to lampposts, streetwalkers in gaudy threads grabbed them by the sleeves. A teen pickpocket put her hand into the belt pouch of an elderly captain flirting with a candy seller, but she took off running when another rogue trader slapped the captain on the shoulder.

The librarian stopped by the closest tailor's shop. 'It would be pathetic to join the fun in such an ascetic garb. But so nice to have a helpful friend around. I'll return the sum once I'm back to my chapter.'

I took out my dataslate and opened the payment app with a sigh. 'For the Emperor's cause. Just don't leave me penniless.'

Smiling as a con man at a luxurious reception, the librarian slid through the constant chaotic motion of the crowd, clad in a new silken robe of blue, red and gold. These colours looked strangely familiar with his flaming mane but I still couldn't recall where I'd seen that. I had but to follow him, the wet, wrinkled scarf wrapped around my neck again. He stopped at a few trading stalls to taste their goods and make cheerful small talk. The port buzz was as natural for him as for a savvy sailor. He leaned over a honeycake stall so the blushing baker whispered something into his ear, then kissed her on the cheek.

'Useful to have buddies and make new ones.' He handed me the smaller half of the sample honeycake. 'Just two hours later everyone knows I've run off from the Virgin Galleon. Limax suspects his today's guests but he's received quite many, so it'll take time to find us. His few psykers are shitty, and he lost the staff.'

'You're priceless for my job, man. Maybe I'll persuade you to have a break and choose the Pilgrimage like my Blood Angel bro. Seems like I've guessed who you are. The Imperial Fists recruit from Necromunda. Your gang tattoo absent from the database. Though you haven't got spoiled by the indoctrination drill yet somehow. That's why you mentioned walls and stupidity. But crying for help... Still not their style.'

He giggled at my investigation attempts. 'Have to admit, it's often practical to exploit the best intentions of people to get out of trouble.'

'Hope you're human at least. But I doubt shapeshifting xenos do it with such love for details.' I slowed down to catch the local network and browse the map. 'Let's wait a bit in a chill place till the owl picks us up. I'll warn my crew.'

'A surprise would be better. So it won't leak out through holes in the network security. By the way, there's a place where we'll be welcome.'

Away from the main avenue, deep in poorly lit sidestreets we found a plain basement door with a peeled ibis head painted on the wooden sign. A flickering orb of spectral fire was floating at the upper arch instead of a lantern. The door opened by itself as we walked down the cracked stairs. A feeble odour of warp wafted out of the dark corridor.

'Better not.' I pulled him by the sleeve. 'With all my love for fishy places, today's a wrong day for adventures like that.'

'Adventures rid us of boredom,' he objected. 'And, for sure, Limax won't find us here. I thought you're a brave girl.'

The corridor led to a large hall lit by a dozen warpflame spheres. An exotic inn, not counting the nauseating optical patterns on the walls and an obvious aura of sorcery. A gaunt man in a flashy coat of many colours hurried towards the entrance at the sight of the peculiar customer. He bowed down to kiss the librarian's hand and ran back calling other personnel.

The librarian chose a table in the corner with a long soft couch instead of chairs. He sprawled on embroidered pillows staring at the constantly twisting lines and circles of the wallpapers. Choosing an obvious cultist lair to have a snack was extravagant even for a Radical like my mentor. Unheard of for a loyal marine. I needed to find an excuse to get back but my dataslate was in his hands.

'The room looks like I'm already drunk.' I looked down at the table to cope with growing sickness.

'So don't stay sober for too long.' He clapped his hands, and the man bowed down again. 'Bring us a whole trout baked in spices and lemons, fresh peaches and grapes and a big jar of your best wine. My friend is generous today.'

'We are all delighted to serve you, high lord.' The man vanished through a side door. Two tall girls appeared in his place and knelt at my companion's side of the couch. I bit my lip. The hems of their dresses slipped up revealing bird feet.

Muttering eerie chirping phrases, they started brushing and braiding his tangled hair. When the hairdo was almost ready, one of the mutants dropped the ribbon with a metal bead and fainted. My companion pulled a grimace of fake other got up to her feet but made a single step before collapsing to the carpet. Meanwhile, even the slightest traces of the con librarian's wounds and fatigue had vanished. Fresh as a youth, he lounged on the pillows sniffing the food smells from the kitchen.

A few more cultists carried away the unconscious servants and put a big plate of grapes and peaches on the table. My companion leaned forward to taste the fruit. A thin braid slipped to one side of his face over his left eye, and I choked on a grape berry at the striking guess.

'Can I ask you for a little favour in exchange for this tasty meal?' I gave him a nudge. 'Please give me an honest answer to a single question.'

'Always ready.'

'How many eyes does your gene-sire have?'

He scratched his head. 'A positive integer.'

'Less than two?'

'That's already the second question.' He paused to pick up a large peach. 'But I'm proud I still remember the smart words they tried to teach me. Sadly, I'm only vaguely aware what they really mean.'

I rubbed my temples. 'I've been the greatest fool ever.'

'There's nothing good in being a smarty pants.' He patted me on the back. 'Smarties are the first to break down when their self-admiring logics stop working. I was one of the biggest fools among the Thousand Sons for so long while my childhood friend was smart as no one else. But I manage to struggle on without book knowledge. As for my friend, his greatest invention has already caused a lot of trouble. And made him wanted literally everywhere. If you ever meet him, take pity of the poor chap and don't hurt him like many do.'

'I should have guessed once I saw this fiery colour.' I tugged at a stray ginger braid that fell on my shoulder.

'I haven't even told you a single word of lie. If it's any consolation, I wouldn't have let you go anyway. I need my staff back.'

A weirdly shaped porcelain jar and a steaming trout in a pile of fresh greenery appeared next to the fruit. The sorcerer chewed on the fish with an expression of bliss. 'Have some, girl. Tastes like childhood.'

His manner of eating the main course reminded me of the peculiar table etiquette of Lord Corydoras. Keen on using a special fish fork and knife in the exact Lunar manner. The first generation when the influence of Terra was the strongest. Much more dangerous than gawky Limax.

He gulped a whole glass of wine. 'Why aren't you drinking? None of the food and drinks have any warp additions.'

'I'm on duty, don't forget,' I grunted.

'Listen to my advice and stop being a workaholic. Our captain had such fiery motivation for his job that he suffered from severe burnout.'

When he finished the meal, the innkeeper looked out of the kitchen. The sorcerer smiled and nodded. 'Show me to the inner hall.' He put his hand on my shoulder as he got up. 'I'm back in five minutes, girl. Have fun.'

The dataslate remained on the couch. Warp lamps had faded so the hall was almost dark. The whole place plunged into a sinister still. Warp unrest was growing in the background, annoying like a mosquito buzzing in the bedroom at night. I reached for the dataslate. Nothing happened. 'Out of the coverage area.' Maybe far away in the depths of the Immaterium. I made a step towards the exit. The sound of steps drowned in the thick carpet. I closed my eyes and ran to the door.

Only when it slammed shut behind my back, I breathed out and looked around. The creepy sidestreets were lost to sight. I was back to the crowded avenue. The sorcerer didn't seem to pursue me. Hopefully, a ritual that had gone awry. Sounds too optimistic. What I knew for sure - there was no way back to the Perseverant. I had two gemstones under the coat lining, must be enough to buy a flight without flashing the rosette.

On the run I reached for my pouch where I'd stuffed my dataslate in the cultist inn. Empty. The bottom and sides were whole, my hand had been on the clasp until now. The hide-and-seek game had started. At a pancake stall I noticed three munching sailors with Aquila signs on their uniforms.

'Buddy, can I have your slate for a second? Gotta call up my captain.' I tapped one on the back.

'Yeah, you wish.' He showed me his middle finger. 'Lots of you scoundrels loitering around. Bugger off, or you'll get it!'

I stuck the rosette in his face. Instead of a thousand words. He froze up gaping. His buddies reacted quicker. The oldest sailor dropped his package on the stall and handed me his own slate.

'Please, m'lady, please. He never meant to be rude to an Agent of the Throne. Just so. Take it. Take everything you wish.'

'I said for a second.' The dataslate connected to the network of the Perseverant. I started typing, my psychic senses concentrated on the closest vicinity. 'Fluffster, set off right now. No further explanations. Tell Lady C. we've got another curious buddy. Meet you on M.' 'Message delivery successful.' I returned to the menu to quit the network.

My dramatic revelation had turned the relaxed avenue into a loonhouse. Dozens of mouths whispered, shouted, spat out a single word. 'Inquisition!' A rogue trader with an Aeldari weapon leapt up to his feet but overturned the cafe table, and plates and cups rained on two mercenaries running under the verandah. First shots echoed in the sidestreets.

I left the dataslate on the pancake stall and plunged into the crowd. Another panicker in heavy carapace armour staggered and slammed me into the wall. I pushed him away and sent out a menacing psychic cry. Better to risk once than to get crushed by petty trespassers who were already shouting about an Exterminatus fleet over the world.

At once a mocking chuckle sounded inside my mind. A flash of familiar red and blue flickered at the edge of my sight, and I nearly tripped on an empty bottle. When I turned my head, there was a plain brick wall. I ran on, towards the Hall of Captains in the port terminals. Any ship, any direction would do. Any Navigator skilled enough to avoid the sorcerer's gaze.

A louder chuckle. 'Do you wanna play a game?' The sorcerer waved his hand at me from the bar across the sidewalk but vanished a second later. I whispered a litany and speeded up. The terminals towered over the festive quarters a hundred steps away, in the end of the avenue. Red and blue on both sides at once. As if any of the loiterers was the damn sorcerer. My eyes fixed on the neon sign over the terminal gate, I sneaked between haywired sailors and soldiers.

Fifty metres left. I broke out of the crowd on the large square before the terminal. A gust of wind hit me in the face, and my breath stopped. I staggered and doubled over in a bout of lung-splitting laughter. Muscles contracted with painful cramps, tears rolled down my cheeks but the laughter didn't stop. Shaking and gasping for air, I collapsed on the pavement.