Excavator buckets went up and down, quicker and quicker. Hills of soil were growing on both side of a gaping pit in the exact middle of the clearing. The twisted titan's vulture head opened its azure beak, and a gush of warp-smoke burst out and lit up the whole field. Silvery wisps flickered around the pit edges. Metal glinted on the bottom, and immediately geysers of spectral fire shot up into the air. Headless shapes woven of tainted aether appeared all over the field, hopping and waving their cannon-limbs. Roaring gouts of colourful flame hit the titan's shell.

'They'll be busy with the Flamers now,' said the sorcerer. 'And we have to piss off the pretentious moron.'

I sighed. 'I know the Iron Seer quite well. He sacrificed workers and young psykers to the Stormbringer and burned out my buddy's eyes.'

'He's bound me to my torment. Mawkish scatterbrain whose only success is fooling his grunt of a boss. Trust me and start the attack first. Just distract him for a single moment. Your mark will deceive the titan's spirit.'

My breath stopped. Everything blurred into a formless mess of uncolours. I was falling through the aether haze to nowhere. Titan. I must find the titan. The sorcerer's aura shone like a beacon in the shifting clouds. My fall slowed down, and I concentrated on his soulfire moving across the current with effort.

'Take it easier,' his voice reached my mind. 'The more you struggle, the slower you swim. Just let the current take you there.'

Daemonic cackling mixed in, rose to an ear-splitting crescendo. Surrounded by elusive shapes of Flamers, a spectral giant with a bird's head lashed out with blasts of pure madness. A glimpse of the clash between the Neverborn made me lose my concentration. But for the sorcerer's support, I'd have drowned in the Ocean of Souls to be devoured by even more horrible predators of the warp. The titan's conscience chirped and giggled as it felt another psyker come by. An abomination who'd taken the place of the blessed Machine Spirit.

I leapt towards the giant and found myself in a distorted likeness of a cockpit. As garishly coloured as the walls of turquoise, purple and azure, a tall command throne towered in the center. A human shape, sickly and twisted, nodded his head hidden under the lazuli-encrusted vulture mask. Blue flamelets flickered through the eye-slits, orbs of fire danced around his hands as he sent another blast at the Lesser Daemons.

'Glad to see you again, honey.' The Iron Seer's hypnotic gaze was drawing me closer. 'The weakest of all, you're here. Now I know what let you survive.'

I gave him a sour smile. 'Just to have a look at your machine. Size doesn't matter, that's it.'

He clenched his armoured fist. 'A Warhound is enough to turn your crew into squealing Chaos Spawn. And you too, once you tell me who's led you in.'

Cold fingers gripped my throat. Sparks of warp-flame scattered over my coat, and roaring fire engulfed me. I fell down to the floor screaming. Searing agony dazzled and deafened me as I gasped for air to no avail.

'It serves you right, sweetie. You've come to my domain where I've got the upper hand.' The Iron Seer clapped his gauntlets chuckling. 'For the Stormbringer, for my wounds, for taking my apprentice from me.'

'You blinded her!' I cried back. 'You wanted to burn us alive when the Sisters gave you a beating!'

'Why will she need eyes when she can see for real? What would you sacrifice for the supreme sight? To alter your petty ability? Soon you'll wake up, blind, deaf, mute, paralyzed. But open to the Immaterium.'

Every nerve of my body was on fire. Stuck in the nightmare, I writhed in pain at the throne dais as the spectral flame was devouring my soul.

A rude husky voice called to the Iron Seer from afar. 'Are you asleep or what? Go on shooting or I'll snap your bird neck.'

'Just a minute, Lord Aspersum. Minor disruption of warp channelling.'

A violent blow threw the seer off his throne. The fire died. I lay star-fished on the cold floor, unable to move. Arcs of warp-lightnings struck the Iron Seer's body, and the titan staggered. The sorcerer was there, raising his staff for another attack. When blobs of unlight flew up from the seer's open palms, the sorcerer snapped his fingers, and a wall of flickering fire unfurled between the Iron Seer and the throne.

'I may be a fool but I still remember what Malagor Auramagma taught me on Prospero, you rusty chicken!' Fire reached the throne machinery, and the contours of the cockpit distorted like images on a broken screen. 'Sincere greetings for your buddies!'

'Out of your bloody mind, you shithead?!' Aspersum yelled at the top of his lungs. A flow of the dirtiest cusses was the last I heard before plunging into the abyss.

I was falling again, falling with nobody to pull me out to the real world. Packs of hungry daemons rounded me up, bit at my hands and legs. I tried to recall any prayer I knew to subdue their cackling. But then a hand gripped me by the collar. Hanging over the depth of the bottomless sea, I squinted at my rescuer. The First Acolyte looked at me with his all-time innocent smile.

'It's good to have creditors, Inquisitor. They will care about your well-being better than even parents or friends.'

The last man I wanted to see at the moment. 'Now I think I'd prefer Imudon,' I spat out. 'Mighty Emperor, spread Your divine light to protect me from the darkness!'

He let me go with a cry of pain. I hit my head against something hard and opened my eyes. Back to the dark calm of the trailer. Dizzy, I dragged my limp legs to the cabin.

The titan lay down on its side, its limbs jerking when discharges of warp energy sparked on the hull. A glimmering silver spire appeared from the pit as the machinery continued digging up the hidden relic. The Iron Warriors had lined up around the dig, shooting back at the unyielding Flamers, their power armour already molten by daemonic fire.

'A nice joke, isn't it?' The sorcerer's tone was utterly happy. 'I bet Aspersum banged the old lunatic around for that. If nerdy Limax dares to approach him today, he'll smack him so hard Limax will fly back to Medrengard without a ship!'

'The Iron Seer nearly mutilated me.'

'You cannot imagine how much fun would you have got from real warp-sight. Wonderful travels and impressions impossible in your physical body.'

'Climb on your witch-broom and fly away to Moronville.' I showed my middle finger to the empty cabin. 'And I'll drive away before they finish the Flamers.' I sent a vox signal to the other trailers and started the engine. The cyber-moth returned, and I stuffed it into my pocket.

'The Moronville where I was born is the holy capital of the Imperium. I thought you had more respect for our Idiocrat.' Wistful tone I didn't expect. Fake as all his other tricks. 'Time for the Rubrics, dear.'

'Wait.' I took the dataslate out of my pocket. The foreman's pict opened on the screen. 'Take a look at the bastard's fancy book. One of yours?'

He giggled. 'How sweet. So we shouldn't roam the galaxy searching for my wonderful library. It's the most expensive of my tomes. A grimoire of a thousand daemon princes of old. Written before the human race stood up on two legs to see the stars above. The ambitious seller of ground cinnamon dreams of binding the siege tower to his will with the captured daemon's true name.'

Beeps from the vox bead. Another transmission signal. I answered trying to ignore the sorcerer's giggles.

'Everything's fine, moving back to the park with the workers.'

'I've already got your logs from Lord Crinitus, Miss Volentia,' said Cichlasoma. 'The heretic is currently besieged in his mansion. Unfortunately, he's taken Lady Melitara hostage. Ystlum's squad is getting ready to conduct a psychic attack on the daemon engine. To be honest, a risky affair.'

'Illicio knows the daemon's true name, my lady.'

'That means I have some job for penitents who are eager to seek the Emperor's forgiveness.' Her sarcastic tone promised a tense end of the crazy day. 'While my acolytes are fighting Illicio's mobsters in the mansion, Lord Crinitus will let you and Plodia in through the ventilation system to his underground hideout. I don't let her eat cinnamon rolls, so don't worry about her getting stuck in the shafts.'

'He can kill Captain Melitara.'

'She's a pious woman and doesn't mind becoming a martyr in His name. If we don't stop the Iron Warriors, billions will suffer a much worse fate.'

I finished the conversation and leaned on the control panel. Headache given by the warp adventure was growing stronger. Yet the sorcerer wasn't going to bugger off.

'Meet you in the basement, girl! You won't save the granny without my help.'

'Enough blabbering. Wish I was a blank.'

Angel was standing in the doorway. I could sense reproach even in the stare of his helmet eye-lenses.

'We are going with you. To protect you from further temptations and dangers.'

'Brother, just be wise and listen well. I know what will happen in the hideout. You bitch at the sorcerer, he turns you into a red gull, I cuss because I've no use for a talking gull who is preaching the Chaplain's textbook.'

'You were talking to him again. He's an enemy of the Emperor. An enemy of Mankind. I won't let you lose your soul to the Ruinous Powers.' He stepped forward activating his power claws.

'You'll rip me to pieces like you did to your Battle-Brothers?' My throat got dry. I raised my head realising there was no way to shield myself from the killing blow. 'And drink my blood like you did under the abomination's influence?'

He hacked at the door with an insane snarl. The workers in the van yelled back. Sister hurried to the cabin pushing her way through the panicking men. She called for calm for a few times before they stopped screaming.

Angel took off his helmet and threw it to the floor. He was panting, his bared fangs giving his handsome face a beastly look. His reddened eyes glistened with tears. Sister took him by both arms.

'Their souls are with Him in His kingdom, brother.'

I wiped my forehead. 'Sister, Fluffster was damn right about the circus of a retinue. But bloodthirsty clowns going bonkers are already enough.'

She blinked, ready to burst into tears herself. 'We're your closest friends. Even earlier, you did risky things. But something happened to you in the shrine of Chaos. You've changed.'

'That's not the reason to kill me. You're the more reasonable out of the two. If you want to be of use tonight, take Uncle and help Lady Cichlasoma's men. I must go to the basement with Lady Plodia. To find out the daemon's name and rescue our brave captain. Or die in His name if He deems me unworthy to live.'

Angel knelt beside me, his bout of rage quenched by his sensitive conscience. But for that, he'd become the exemplary homicidal manic with childish enthusiasm for tearing heads off. Red with shame, he stared at my face like a toddler who'd angered his mother.

'The Emperor has bestowed upon me the power to interact with any threat to the Imperium. Only another Inquisitor has the right to judge me.' I waved my clenched fist in front of his face.

'I was afraid the sorcerer had possessed you. Promise us you won't approach him.'

'Sure. But only if he doesn't approach me first.'

The trailer park was cordoned off by Storm Troopers from Cichlasoma's retinue. The scared guests of the harvest festival holed up in their mobile homes, messy remains of their dinner tables left on the grass. Fluffster walked out of the owl when our vans stopped in an empty corner. He pointed at the mansion hill where bolter shots and lasgun beams flashed in the unlit windows of the Spice King's idyllic palace.

'Plodia is already waiting for you. The acolytes have taken the eastern airshaft, and I'll turn off the security auspexes for a few minutes when you climb down. Illicio isn't afraid of Inquisitors as he relies on his Rubrics. Just in case he succeeds in controlling them, I've added Librarian Gwinwer's vox channel to your contact list. Keep in touch with Plodia.'

Angel led our small group through the lush cinnamon greenery. We slowed down when the carved pavilion of the vent shaft came into sight behind the plantation fencing. A section of the white ornate roof had been removed. A woman in black power armour stepped forward and waved her hand. Plodia Interpunctella had got back her armaments and self-confidence, but still looked little like her official picts from the Ordo digests without her bold makeup and fancy hairstyles. I wondered if Illicio ever recognized the Inquisitor who stormed his quarters was his old trade partner.

Her inhibitor was active so we shook hands, and I took my chainsword and old laspistol from her. My crew headed to the entrance as if we hadn't discussed it in the van. I pushed Angel away from the airshaft without ceremonies. Thanks to his earlier indoctrination, he obeyed the order. Plodia was already descending to the basement, and I gripped the upper clamps so as not to be late to the skirmish.

The airshaft was clean and new, as all buildings of the spice farm. Apart from covert heretical affairs, Illicio, an industrious man, could be called the least problematic businessman of the whole cluster. His immense profit was directed to upgrading and development of his trade, even his tax lists were in full order.

'Even cinnamon for rolls can be heretical now,' I hummed.

'Don't begin that again,' Plodia growled back. 'The old bat has already exercised her tongue enough.'

'Sorry.'

'I don't blame you anyway. You were among the few who didn't badmouth me and my family after the scandal. I'm thinking about resigning and going to Luna but my parents will refuse to move from Uebotia.' She reached the bottom and drew her pistol.

'You shouldn't.' I knew she didn't need advice from me but I felt I had to support her. 'You're a brave fighter. You won over the mistakes, the slander, the worst of enemies. But for you, my team would have perished on the daemon world.'

'I'm a stain on the office of our respectable, prudent Lord Platydoras. He barely tolerates me just for his old ties with the Corydoras family. You know, I'm thinking more often that my career was a mistake from the beginning. I shouldn't have run from my fate of a bun baker.'

With a bitter chuckle, she sent a bolt pistol round to the massive lock on the ventilation grate under our feet. Faint light was oozing from the corridor beneath. Not a single chaotic sigil on the walls yet. I jumped down to the floor, and my feet drowned in the thick fuzzy carpet. The basement was a cheesy place the average city dweller sees in yoghurt or mayo ads daily. Floral wallpapers, cute lamps, massive wooden doors with antique carved ornaments. Emptiness and silence struck me. Deactivated simple servitors of metal and porcelain stood in the doorways with trays or baskets. A psyber-parrot perched on a wall lamp didn't even move its dusty head as we passed by.

Warp buzz was coming from one of the rooms, and I pushed the door. A coffee room, but the owner wanted it to look like a mage library from fairytale movies. Yet a lively smell of food kinda toned down the sorcerous air of the place. Crystals of bizarre shapes were sparkling on the shelves, old leather-bound books with runes and hieroglyphs on well-thumbed covers lay on the table besides dessert plates and silver cezves.

'These look impressive but are definitely fakes like those I would buy in my younger years.' Plodia opened one of the books and put it back.

I looked around trying to locate the source of the buzz. A closed section of the bookshelf. The gold-painted door creaked open. We saw a giant humanoid shape draped in white silk. The cloth slipped down to the floor when Plodia tugged at the edge. Her armoured fingers tapped on the surface, and a hollow sound reached our ears. It was a full suit of sky-blue power armour, standing by itself as if it was worn by a superhuman warrior. The surface bore marks of combat, the tall helmet crest had been hacked off with a blade strike. Gilded emblems on the pauldrons and greaves reminded me of the sorcerer's panoply. I knocked on the ornate breastplate, and the sound echoed in the warp. A shadow of past long gone.

Plodia pressed the button of her inhibitor, and my guts cramped at another collision with a null field. 'Volentia, the first of his Rubricae. Take care.'

She scanned the shelves and flipped another section over. A low door in the wall was barely visible on the irregular wallpaper pattern. Gun in hands, she froze up aiming at the door as we heard careful steps on the other side. The lock tinkled, and another dust marine's blind eyes looked at us from from a narrow corridor. Illicio was peeping out from behind, his face pallid at the unexpected encounter with a blank.

'Another Rubric will slay the captain once you lay a finger on me.' His pupils dilated when he stared down the barrels of our guns but his tone was firm. A remainder of a top merchant's self-possession.

I clenched my teeth so he didn't notice my anxiety. 'If you manage to turn on at least one.'

Plodia made a step forward. The empty suit collapsed on the floor with a deafening rumble. I barely managed to leap back before it could knock me down. Fleeing footsteps shambled away to the other end of the corridor.

'Now we have to get him too,' Plodia shouted. 'Damn, I hate running. And, as usual, no acolytes to send in pursuit of this swift mongrel.'

'Not that swift, Lady Interpunctella. Just a fat bastard.'

'I used to be even fatter. Shake a leg, Volentia!'

She jumped over the fallen Rubric and darted into the passage. As if in spite, my right boot tripped on the marine's gauntlet. My knee slammed into the engraved pauldron, and I saw stars. Even a catatonic traitor continued his war against the servants of the Imperium. I kicked the Rubric with my good leg. A chip of paint broke off from the ceramite. The kick's warp echo sounded like a wistful call but I didn't have time or desire to plunge into visions again.

The passage ended with a half-open door. Quite far from Plodia's null field, I could feel the stench of tainted Immaterium leaking from the inside of the secret room. Furnished and decorated like the other chambers of the basement, it stored the most precious relics of the rogue mage's treasury. Between two piles of stasis caskets and dusty grimoires another wordless warrior in blue was standing frozen with a plasma pistol in his hand. At his feet I saw Lady Melitara, overcast with sorcerous slumber. On the top of the taller pile there was the small book wrapped in greasy paper. The daemon's name.

Illicio met us with all his courage. Holding the paralyzed captain at gunpoint, he took a wrinkled piece of parchment out of the pocket of his dressing gown. He read a few unwords out loud and looked at the Rubric with a triumphant smile. The Rubric wasn't going to move. Illicio shouted a new spell. His voice failed him. With a desperate cuss he grabbed the pistol with both hands and smacked the meek dust warrior on the chest.

'What a shithead, do you agree, ladies?' A gull-headed giant stepped out of nowhere, leaning on his staff. Illicio squealed and darted back, but the sorcerer grabbed him by the collar. 'Don't be afraid. I've brought you the best gift you could ever imagine. You wanna be a real mage, don't you.'

He stuffed his staff into the dazed Spice King's hands. The bird head on the top gave out a shrill cry. Illicio's scream of pain joined in. Skin on his plump face popped here and there, and glowing eyes stared at us from his cheeks and forehead. Clawed, feathered limbs burst through the tearing dressing gown. Twisting and bloating as raw energy of the warp was filling him, Illicio dropped the magic weapon.

'Well, at least his dream came true.' The sorcerer bowed down to Lady Melitara. Plodia raised her gun but he wagged his finger at her. 'Hi, granny. I'm Miss Volentia's good friend and I've come to cheer you up.'

'She'll be pissed off.' I gritted my teeth.

'I know.'

Melitara's eyes widened. 'Accursed traitor.' She turned her head and passed out again at the sight of the writhing Chaos Spawn.

'Granny, don't be that rude. Try to keep an open mind.' He shook her hand and beckoned Plodia. 'You remember me well, Lady Interpunctella. Years of pushing forward the damn barge, because of your efforts. Now come with me. It's your turn to have fun. I wish you weren't a blank but there are many fancy things one can do even to a null.'

I sighed and activated the vox. 'Librarian, quicker. A serious threat.'

The sorcerer showed me his middle finger. The Rubric came to life. His eye lenses lit with eerie light, he turned his head left and right, then made a step towards the sorcerer. Heavy footsteps thudded on the floor, muffled by carpets. Two from the previous rooms, two from the closets of the hidden chamber. As the sorcerer snapped his fingers, a gaping hole opened in the air right before us. Aether wind blew in. Books rustled under the gusts growing stronger. Next moment they were already hovering around the sorcerer like a flock of motley birds.

The tiny grimoire fell down to my feet. 'A farewell gift, girl. The iron assholes deserve that.' The sorcerer leapt to the portal along with his squad, and the hole closed. Only a few dim sparks lingered around for a second or two.

I breathed out but startled at the insane howl of the Chaos Spawn. Free after the sorcerer's departure, the former Spice King opened his mutated maw and spat out a blast of psychic flame. Plodia rushed forward shouting curses. I pressed the chainsword throttle. Before a bony limb could sink its claws in Captain Melitara's side, I hacked it off with a precise blow.

Another flame blob brushed against my shoulder when the Chaos Spawn darted out of Plodia's null field. My sleeve started smoking. Shots left torn holes in the abomination's azure hide but every one of them turned into an eye socket or fanged mouth breathing fire. It lashed out with a dozen limbs at once. Next moment, Plodia was already down on the floor, deadly claws ripping her power armour as if it was fire.

A flash of white light shine behind, and an impact wave threw me to the bookshelves. The Chaos Spawn's aura of taint started shrinking as the chamber was basked in psychic radiance. A giant in silvery ceramite swung his force weapon. The abomination attacked the new adversary with doubled ferocity but withdrew with a scream, its claws molten at the touch of holy symbols etched in the Grey Knight's armour. Gwinwer's single strike nearly cut the former Spice King in half. Steaming ichor streamed from the wound leaving burns on the carpet. Before it could assault him again, Librarian Gwinwer uttered a thunderous litany. Purifying light flooded the chamber. A gut-wrenching psychic yell almost left me deaf. When the flash died out, a pile of charred flesh lay smouldering at our feet.

Gwinwer picked up Captain Melitara, and I sensed his psychic glance touch her soul. 'She suffered a heart attack. I will give her a shot of emergency stimulators but she needs immediate evacuation.'

My eyes smarted. I looked down at my feet. 'There's a field medic in my team. My acolytes will deliver the captain to her ship.'

A mighty psyker, he understood everything. 'Every man is a sinner, my lady. You will make it right, and the Emperor will forgive you. The threat to the planet is not vanquished yet. Your atonement demands fighting to the end.'

Plodia sat up, her armour mauled by the Chaos Spawn's claws but not a single wound on her body. The well-thumbed grimoire in hand, I followed her to the exit. Gwinwer brought the rear carrying unconscious Captain Melitara.

It was kind of a blur. As if in a tedious dream I couldn't wake up from, I gave out orders to my crew, got into the owl waiting for me by the burning mansion. I doubted the Grey Knights ever needed my presence but I felt I had to do at least something after a long row of fails one worse than another. A day to learn the price of a single fail, not in the hardest way, Emperor be praised. Combating the daemon engine, I could acquit myself for losing the staff to its owner, but I had betrayed and lost a staunch supporter and friend who had agreed to break her code of honour to serve the Emperor.

Trying to stay in Plodia's aura, I turned a few yellowed pages. Eerie symbols were dancing before my eyes, lines almost impossible to read let alone keep a single word in mind. Gwinwer took the book from me when the owl was getting close to the dig. Despite Cichlasoma's cold reaction, he had agreed to get to the fray by owl. To save the remains of my reputation.

Burnt corpses of the fallen Iron Warriors lay around the pit. The siege tower, fully unearthed by unyielding machines, cast cold pallid light on their charred armour. Three Thunderhawks had descended from orbit to haul the tower up to Aspersum's barge on giant sigil-engraved chains. Warp buzz from the inside made me shiver. It had got so loud I bet even non-psykers could hear it by now.

Gwinwer opened the grimoire, and I recognized the greasy page from the foreman's pict. 'I wouldn't advise it, my lady, but you may join the choir now. Beware so the daemon's backlash doesn't tear your soul out of your body.'

I closed my eyes concentrating on his radiant aura. A moment - and I plunged into a sea of light streaming through the joint minds of the Grey Knights. The light turned into a wave of purifying flame that engulfed the material shell of the deformed warp spawn that stirred and awakened inside. The Iron Seer's sorcerous leash broke off, the Thunderhawks stopped hovering over the field, held in their place by the daemon prince. Malignant will clashed with the combined might of the psychic choir.

Gwinwer's powerful voice uttered the first cacophonous syllables of the daemon's name. Only blanks and Grey Knights fully devoted to the Emperor could pronounce daemons' unholy names without the risk of getting corrupted or insane. Even Sisters of Battle avoided the ritual so as not to get in touch with foul sorcery. I listened to the unword, old pain of the mark smarting again. Aether flame was rising in the glowing hull of the engine to break free before the name rendered it powerless.

The final syllables pealed like thunderbolts. A spear of light pierced the shell, and I whispered a prayer to do my tiny bit of the crushing blow. The daemon screamed, and its semi-material form popped like a rotten apple. Dissolving into thinning warp smoke, it evaporated through the crack in the hull. A lifeless metal husk was left behind.

The Thunderhawks' engines came alive once the aura of unrest had vanished. They dragged the damaged remains of the siege engine to the sky already getting light at dawn. I flopped to the seat and closed my eyes. Only out of the adrenaline rush I felt how tiresome all today's adventures had been.

'It is a shame we do not have enough forces to stop the Iron Warriors,' said Gwinwer. 'They will repair the daemon engine to use it against the Imperium.'

My vox beeped right when his voice was almost out of reach, drowned out by drowse overwhelming me. Lady Cichlasoma. 'Miss Volentia, I've ordered your luggage to be carried to my ship. You've screwed the captain over so she'll remember your crew for the rest of her life. I don't want her to die too early because of another Radical venture.'

I blinked tears of shame back. 'I've got a few rare gems left in my pouch. Please leave them on the Perseverant for Lady Melitara.'

'Don't you think money can solve any problems? Well, it would be a good lesson for you to collect deposit bottles for a month or two on Uebotia.'

I reached for Uncle's minibar and poured myself a shot of amasec. 'Radicalism adds a pinch of spice to an Inquisitor's life, my mentor used to say. But he didn't realize it's poisonous if you overdo it.'