The next morning was as grey as the day before. I looked through the towel sheets after breakfast but there was nothing really new. A rambling account of the days after Glyceris' divorce and ruin. Brief accounts of the places he'd stopped in mixed with punctual description of his feverish dreams. The closer he got to the planet, the more detailed and precise the dreams became. Exactly the same I'd seen - the fortress outline in the majestic sunset skies, cyclopean gates of wrought red gold, hideous theroid monsters engraved on the colossal leaves.

Prior to his arrival to this world the diary had gradually lost all sense and structure. Lines were uneven, sentences turned into mixtures of random words. Then even words and letters disappeared giving place to eerie symbols.

In the afternoon Sister and Uncle stayed in the mansion to watch over him after the first serum injection while Angel and Fluffster got fully equipped to follow me to the city. We planned to pose as a golden youth couple with an augmented bodyguard. Without his iconic armour the Blood Angel didn't look much different from the local nobility - a well-fed tall scion of the high spires who's arrived to the lower city to have fun. I spent some of our funds to order clothes and accessories by drone delivery to mix in with the locals.

'Just noticed how pretty you are.' I patted the marine's shoulder as he was tying his new ornate neckerchief with awkward embarrassment.

'I've never been to a place like that. Is it like feasts at Governor palaces?'

'Not really. I'll tell you how to behave to be in the right swag.'

I was trying to apply wine-red lipstick evenly before a dusty broken mirror in one of the rooms glancing at the marine in the reflection. The Emperor's work of wonder had let a waifish boy from scorched deserts turn into a paragon of angelic beauty, a true copy of his sire. Dreams of orphanage girls coming true - going to a party with a handsome cavalier like in long-forgotten fairy tales. Though he lacked manly power and maturity of Aphedron or Imudon, I thought suddenly. A boy, not even a youth let alone a man.

'We will eat and drink and praise the Emperor there.' He looked at me with a toddler's innocence.

'Drink, and dance on the bar stand, and brawl.'

'What will be my role?' He was obviously puzzled.

'To pretend we're spoiled kids on a badass date. Believably, of course. I've uploaded Pimenta's biometrics to the cyber-moth, so we'll party hard for some time in the same bar as he. Then you'll have to provoke him for a duel so that we could stun and abduct him.'

'Challenge for a combat, you mean?'

'Not like you marines do on the battlefield. Like slur punks do. Shove him and cuss at him. Word after word, you'll call him out and we get it over with. Just behave like a man.'

'How will we carry him here?'

'We'll tell the cab driver he's our buddy who's had too much booze.'

'You've been to such parties before.'

'My mentor wasn't picky about hiring new acolytes, so most of them were underhivers, and most of our operations were conducted in fishy places.'

'Easy to guess his ignorance of people let him meddle with heretics and was the reason of his damnation.'

'It was fun, to be honest. But I had to learn how to pull out the pistol before a mad junkie hurls a bar chair at me.'

'Isn't it too garish, lassie?' Uncle looked at my flashy gown with some disapproval. 'Frivolous clothes are for featherbrained coquettes, not for agents of the Throne.'

'It's not clever to be a prude in a speakeasy bar. And I'll have this classy fellow beat the crap out of any who dares to bother me.'

'I'd go there with you to watch over you. You'll get into trouble with the rodent's complicity.'

'You weren't that afraid when I was going to the camp of the Iron Warriors.'

'That was war, not youthly show-off. And that was already over the edge.'

I felt a bit unsure in the new image as I was too simple and plain to act as a spire cutie. Like the gown ruffles could tear off or the lipstick smudge at the wrong time. Yet flashy stuff empowered no worse than armour. I recalled Plodia's innate chic. A true daughter of the cream of the crop, she felt at home at solemn feasts and pirate taverns alike.

We decided to get to the city border in the owl and then call a cab to the Moonshine Corners. There was almost no precise distinction between the outskirts and the half-criminal middle levels of the hive. Not as dirty and shabby as the evernight of the underhive, they were a perfect place to spend a good sum of money to try forbidden amusements of drugs and gambling.

Irregular streets ran upwards along narrow deep coves, and humpback bridges led from level to level lit by dim orange lamps. Heavy smog hadn't melted in the evening, the mist weaving into eerie shapes lit by neon signs of most obnoxious colours. Here and there on the broken pavements bottles and torn packages lay in heaps nobody had cleaned for weeks. Brightly dressed loiterers crowded bridges and plazas in hundreds, many already too drunk to stand straight.

As we were driving by, my vox bead beeped. Target found and located.

'Drop us at 'Hog'n'Shroom,' I told the cabman.

Generous tip would erase any suspicion. Angel held the microchip ring to the terminal without unnecessary questions, and I smiled approvingly. We got out of the cab, followed by the taciturn cricetid, and passed under the flickering sign into the smoky lounge.

I took Angel's arm and pulled a broad, rakish smile. The bar was buzzing with wastrels and drunkards in most unimaginable garbs. Puffs of narcotic smoke were rising to the ceiling, lit by countless spinning flashes of glitter balls, and the whole building was shivering at the deafening, rowdy music.

Angel's face was embarrassed and shy. He grabbed my hand tight and tried not to look around. I dragged him to the bar stand with the usual jolly chattering of a city ladette. It was time to forget about being too good without going radical. Fluffster stopped at a column gazing at the tables impassively.

The man we were looking for had just sitten down at the distant end of the bar stand with ten shots of some oddly coloured hooch. Even with his worn, scarred face he looked quite young for his years. His clothes were shabby and garish, adorned with the same ominous spirals stitched in scarlet silk all over his cloak and beret. It would be wise to wait till the others started brawling and just mingle with the crowd.

With Angel's help I pushed through the drinkers and winked to the bartender.

'Something heady for the lad! He's totally intimidated at his first date. And a shot of brandy for me to put up with his lack of confidence.'

'The lady's risky enough to start with strong booze.'

I leaned on the bar stand and swallowed the shot. The bartender poured me another one. I felt trouble and unease dissolve as contours started floating. Soon I engaged into nonsensical small talk with the bartender and a dead-drunk loiterer who was constantly trying to tell a joke but always forgot the ending. Angel watched me with a kind smile. After the third shot the bartender suggested trying a special sort of absinthe. Something strong to be brave and easy-going.

The bright green beverage seemed to glow in the shot glass. I could only hope there was no warp-infused junk in it. It nearly incinerated my throat, and I had to grab Angel's arm to stay on my feet.

'Why not dance, honey?' I pulled him towards the dance floor in vertiginous joy. 'Let's show 'em all who's the hottest fellow around.'

'You're drunk,' he whispered. 'It will be hard to arrest the heretic.'

I perched on the bar stand and hugged Angel by the neck. A bright stain of lipstick was left on his pale cheek.

'With his height and muscles, I would never have thought your sweetheart is such a total softie. You'd better turn attention to one of our regulars.' The bartender smirked. 'As tall as him but badass as hell. A perfect match if you don't mind a one-night stand but if you're lucky enough...'

Angel frowned his forehead hesitantly. While a regular brawler would hurl the bartender at the bottle stand.

'He means I'm not the only space marine here. He wants me to fight him.'

'The man has finished his shots,' I gave him a shove. 'Let's dance on the bar stand and kick off his glasses as if by accident.'

'You'd better show the rosette openly.'

'So that the entire bar will flee in panic. Or even worse, attacks us. So don't do anything without a direct order.'

I leapt up and stamped my heel on the bar stand at the sounds of music. A man at the opposite wall pushed a half-naked woman off his lap and stood upright. A real giant, he wore a shiny cloak of purple brocade, and his silver-white hair was tied into a bun revealing glistening gems in his eyebrows and ears. The cloak fully covered his left arm, and I realized what was hidden underneath.

In mere moments Aphedron Pansexualis reached the stand and pushed the Blood Angel aside offhandedly.

'Dearie, why the hell have you decided to take this slick out for a date?' He grabbed me by the waist.

'You two already know each other,' The bartender turned back from his barrels and bottles. 'Vesper or Panpacificus Sling?'

'Panpacificus with extra junk. I have to stay awake to please the cutie.'

'Heretic and traitor,' I read Angel's lips, and his face got red with his legion's famous wrath.

'We're old buddies,' Aphedron went on chatting with the bartender ignoring the indignant stare. 'She's just outstanding at her civil work. Especially when she manages human resources. Wish you saw her office's emblem.'

I reached for my pistol hidden under a layer of skirt ruffles.

'The design is ugly as shit.' Aphedron winked, and the bartender roared with laughter.

The Emperor's Child gulped his cocktail, crushed the glass in his fist and jumped up next to me. His hand slipped down to my rear, and I flinched. He lifted me up easily as a new rowdy tune started playing.

'You're drunk as a skunk, babe,' he whispered in a mean tone. 'Your thoughts are so loud as if you're about to broadcast them to the whole Eye.'

'Your recovery has been quite quick.'

'She-Who-Thirsts doesn't let her devotees stay in a pathetic sick state for long.'

'You have a beef with the same man as me.'

'And you're going to stand between me and my prize.'

'Nothing personal, just business.'

'You'll tell that to my best friend.' He made an obscene gesture.

'Your company is away right now.'

'Just don't blush like that. Awkward drunken flirt gives out a completely innocent workaholic at once. As for me, I was a few years younger than you when I was already known as an irresistible lady-killer. I hoped you've got some experience since our last meeting.'

'I doubt you mean factory work or engine-handling by the word 'experience,' but my last mission looked like that.'

'Sorry for you then. But if you ever want to fill the gap, pick up someone less wimpy than your blonde manchild.'

'You know why I'm here.'

'Will you thank me well for a bit of help?'

We waltzed along the bar stand, and he leapt over glasses and bottles with grace unimaginable for his stature. The rhythm of the dance was getting quicker and headier, and soon we were dancing right in front of the drowsy blademaster. He'd ordered a few more shots, and the moment he reached for another glass Aphedron kicked it off the stand right to the man's face.

Pimenta jumped to his feet in blind drunken fury. He was neither tall nor strong, but his madness-induced suicidal love for constant brawls made him brave enough to attack an Angel of Death with a rusty toothpick. He tore off his cloak and tossed it to the floor, and I saw a small purse of scarlet silk hanging on his scarred neck. A burst of psyonic pain. I tripped on an overturned glass and gripped Aphedron's cloak not to fall over the stand.

Aphedron slapped me on the rear and dropped me into Fluffster's outstretched paws. Pimenta drew his rapier and swished it with a crazy yell. The drunkards gave way to the brawlers with customary indifference.

'I'll turn you on my blade like a pig on the spit, you damn lamppost,' Pimenta shouted.

'I draw my sword when I'm about to grapple with a saucy slut.' Aphedron showed him his middle finger. 'I'll finish you with a mere kick to the balls. If you have any, boozer bastard.'

He leapt down with a dancer's show-off. His stately shape towered over Pimenta, a predator ready to tear up a lesser beast who dared to stand in his way. Too crazy to be afraid, Pimenta waved his hand pointing at the door. Aphedron bowed his head with a cheeky grin as I drew my pistol, then followed the blademaster.

I tugged at Fluffster's fur impatiently.

'Out, quicker. The sweet child of Sanguinius has failed at everything.'

'He isn't fit for city duties. Try to use him now if you wish.'

'He's the only one able to snatch the purse from Aphedron.'

We all ran out as fast as we could, followed by the drunkards' lazy gazes. Angel strode first with a bolt pistol in his hand, pushing aside curious loiterers who stopped to look at the duel.

When we forced our way to the street, the duel was already over. Aphedron stood on the closest bridge posing for picts with a purple orchid he'd got from an admirer. The scarlet pouch hung on his elbow, and the smell of musk and ambergris floated around in nauseating waves. Pimenta crouched howling at Aphedron's feet, his sword-hand twisted under an unnatural angle, his smashed face smeared with fresh blood.

Aphedron waited with lazy patience till we came close. Then he kicked Pimenta off the bridge into the deep waters of the dark cove and rushed down. Angel staggered and froze with the pistol in his outstretched hand. Before I could fire my first shot, Aphedron tore the purse from his elbow and stuffed it into the cleavage of my dress.

'Your share of the prize, babe. Hope you'll be a good girl and won't even try to lay your hands on the shard.' He grabbed my wrist with a tentacle hidden under the cloak and put the orchid down the barrel of my gun.

He winked at Angel and snatched the bolt pistol from his gauntlet.

'Thanks for the gun, bro.'

'Come on, you damn slick!' I slapped Angel on the shoulder when Aphedron jumped down the pavement onto the roofs of a lower level.

Angel looked at the fleeing traitor with astonishment on his youthly face. I pulled out the orchid and fired my laspistol in a vain hope to wound Aphedron at least. The Emperor's Child didn't even look back to dodge the shots. He stopped and dodged a few more as if dancing. Fluffster put his paw on my shoulder.

'Don't waste the charge. He was famous for prowess and agility even in times when legionnaires were all peerless champions.'

'You two slackers. What the hell has happened?'

'Psyker stuff. And, honestly, he's still way too embarrassed by your drunken flirt and the whole rowdy athmosphere.'

'You could have done something.'

'Space Marines are hard to kill, and he'd be able to escape even with grievous wounds. I doubt you'll be glad to meet his apothecary.'

When Angel's psychic paralysis left him, I couldn't even sense the trace of Aphedron's presence nearby. For the worse, neither of the marines wore armour so Angel couldn't rely on his auspexes. I let out the cyber-moth hoping search by height would be of some help. The Blood Angel stuffed the vox bead into his ear and pulled out the other pistol.

'Quicker, while Fluffster is calling the cab.' I pointed at the lower roofs now half-drowned in condensing mist.

Fluffster headed to the parking, and I retreated to the shaded backyard area not to mess into another brawl. It was almost quiet save a faint sound of a murmuring stream. My intoxication was wearing off slowly but headache came in its stead. It had been wise at least not to have tried the crap favoured by Aphedron.

The air was getting chilly as if a rainstorm was coming. Voices from the outside lowered and died out. A pressing, sickening feeling and sudden emptiness. A dark shadow appeared on the roof above, another one crawled from behind a row of trash cans.

A decade-long custom forced me to flee. Only the most influential officials, the meanest kingpins and my own kind could employ nulls for their service, and neither encounter meant good in my dubious situation. Inquisitorial rivalry was the deadliest of the three. A tall man in a custom-built cuirass and helmet tried to block my way but I kicked him in the shin and slipped under his arm. They didn't shoot at me so they needed me alive.

I ran to the crowded pavement stealing between loiterers. Good that I hadn't been stupid enough to wear the most fashionable heels today. On the edge of the cove a drunkard stepped on the hem of my dress, I slipped on spilled booze and rolled down a bridge to the lower level.

The null aura didn't fade, and I realized they had psyker-detecting auspexes. Full silence on the air, not even a proposal to lay down my arms. I hoped they hadn't managed to break Fluffster's cipher yet.

To my relief, I saw a city railway stop in the end of the street. I tried to disappear among a party of clerks waiting for their train to get home after a late shift. My luck wasn't enough to find another latent psyker to hide in their aura.

A train stopped at the platform, and the clerks rushed in with a frenzy rarely expected from frail servants of the Administratum. The shadow pursuers found me in the crowd, their quick-moving shapes emerging from the backyard of a nearby shop.

I jumped in along with the other passengers and activated the vox.

'Fluffster, unexpected circumstances. Watch out for me, meet you two in the suburbs.'