The owl had risen over the suburbs, and I carefully watched over the auspexes turning the speed to maximum allowed to avoid the coming storm. A bright blaze of fire shone underneath right in the district we'd just left. I clicked on the auspex screen and gasped.

'He's set the house on fire. This has been something worse than simple booze-induced psychosis.'

'We've taken all his treasures,' Uncle said with a sigh. 'I doubt he had any reasons to live on after he'd lost both family and money. He had no children of his own. An egoistic life with a predictable end.'

'He must have started slipping into madness since the ship accident, or even earlier, when he found the relics stolen from the mausoleum. His later life was but a vain attempt to convince himself he could be normal.'

'Anyway he's probably dead by now.'

Sister recalled another pious phrase. 'Heresy leads to death, both spiritual and physical.'

I took a vial of tranquilizer and a large syringe out of her bag. It still might not be enough to stun Angel if he started rampaging around. I hated the idea of pushing him down the floor hatch, and we three were never a match for a superhuman warrior. His eyes had got a feverish gleam, his mouth was half-open showing sharp teeth. Even Aphedron was more calculated in his rash badassery let alone Imudon who was polite and reserved even when trying to scare me.

'I'm hungry,' he said in the most innocent voice.

'Take something from the fridge,' Uncle answered calmly.

'I'm thirsty.' He licked his lips. 'Hope that's not...'

His pale face turned white as milk. He reached for Sister who stood close to him but I grabbed her hand and pulled her aside. She froze up trembling.

'Enough,' I snapped at him. 'Lie down and shut up or you'll have to fly like your father did.'

'My sire's wrath is strong in me. I feel it awaken inside.'

I stepped back trying not to look into his eyes. Fluffster's weapons were stored in a safe next to the fridge but I didn't know the code. I grabbed Uncle's gun before he could stop me.

'Lie down onto the damn couch this bloody second.' I raised the gun.

'Do not ever dare to order me around.' Angel clenched his fists and made a step towards me. 'Mortals should never threaten us angels.'

With lightning speed he tore the gun out of my hands and lifted me by the neck. I covered my chest and throat with both hands, and the same second Angel dug his fangs into my wrist. Drops of blood trickled down my sleeve. Angel staggered, and his grip loosened all of a sudden. I flopped to the floor holding to my lacerated hand. He fell to his knees and threw up. Fresh blood and half-digested lunch spread over the carpet in a disgusting abstract pattern. Repulsive similarity to Glyceris' blood drawings.

'Please forgive me.' Angel was himself again, and his cheeks blushed with shame. 'I was beside myself. As if some malign will forced me to attack you.'

'Once more, and I'll let you take wing, you childish crank.' I felt an irresistible desire to punch him in the wimpy face. 'Fluffster is ill, some blooddamn nulls are about to catch us, and you're playing stupid tricks.'

'I should have told you earlier.' He bowed his head. 'You know that when I was pursuing a vile sorcerer with my squad, a daemonic entity assaulted us, let loose by his evil magic. My battle-brothers all fell in a single battle while I was left alive to get consumed by the daemon's curse. It filled me with insatiable bloodthirst I was hardly able to subdue. Wounded and starving, I was found by Fluffster's friend, Peachy. Aboard the Morning Glory my thirst overcame me, and I attacked Lady Plodia while she was napping at the control panels. Even when the entity was banished and my bloodthirst was quenched, I was still troubled by the thought it might return. I gave my vows before the Reclusiarch and went on my Warrior's Pilgrimage to find release from my curse.'

'Still waters run deep. Clean up this crying shame and get away.'

'I'll tidy up the place myself.' Uncle hugged me by the shoulders. 'Daemons of this planet are to blame, not the boy.'

'One more thing.' Angel stopped and turned to me. 'Your blood tastes odd to the omophagea. In a disturbing sense. That might be the hidden consequence of the sacrifice.'

'I'll pay a visit to the Grey Knights then.'

'To whom?' Angel looked at me with surprise.

I realised I'd blurted out too much.

'Some buddies of mine. Don't take it into your head.'

The rest of the voyage went smoothly not counting Fluffster's psychic fever. He was no more rambling or shaking but his slumber was so deep any attempt to wake him up was futile. My wrist had got so swollen I could neither knit nor hold the dataslate so I sat at the control screen looking at city districts, suburb cottage villages, neat squares of farm fields floating by.

Next morning, closer to noon, the city smog had vanished completely, and we saw a thin blue stripe of sea water far in the horizon. Farms and woods had given way to scorched stone and scant evergreen groves. Here and there we noticed small spots of hamlets and storages. As the sector archive stated, even the northern coast of the sea had been almost abandoned by now, inhabited by border guards and workers of supporting infrastructure.

We were to arrive on the spot by the evening. I'd put on my everyday work outfit and cleaned my weapons. On the very bottom of my drawer I kept a priceless item taken from the storage of Auriglobus, a psykout grenade saved for the most dangerous encounters. I must appear at the gates of the Casbah fully armed. My wrist had mostly healed, so I took off the bandage and drank the last portion of pills.

We got to the area of abandoned docks, and I slowed down. In a few minutes a pop-up window flickered in the corner of the screen.

'Your name, ID, destination, purpose of the visit?'

Instead of an answer I held my rosette over the sensor. The window closed down.

'We'll get kinda screwed if they have smuggler moles among the guards but that's better than making up suspicious explanations.' I put the rosette back to the hidden pocket. 'Now don't disturb me for a few hours, I've to open the frigging diary at last.'

I plugged in the looted flash drive and opened the files on my dataslate. To my surprise, there was no password. Nothing but a blurred scan of an old star-map and a text file. The map showed the star cluster of the sub-sector we were in, and the planet itself was marked with a red spiral emblem. There were no other marks or comments.

The diary began with a short introduction of the adventurer's earlier life. He hadn't written his name, before retrieving the shard he lived in the proximity of the Eye harvesting small asteroids for resources. A poor young man, he was among the few volunteers to work in a remote sub-sector devastated by numerous Chaos incursions and warp storms. His work was only partially legal, and a great share of his yields was so warped it was of no use.

Everything changed when he found a shard of molten crystal in another daily harvest. Fascinated by the swirling smoke inside, he kept the piece for himself and started seeing the same alluring dreams he wrote down in detail with poetic rapture. In a few weeks the dreams had become unbearable, and he ventured to a deserted system at the very edge of the Eye where corsairs and every other ilk of lost souls sold and exchanged their tainted loot.

'I tried to attract a worthy customer as one of the locals told me these shards are desperately sought after by sorcerers. Soon one appeared at the fair, a mocking giant in an azure helmet shaped like a gull's head. I promised him fantastic treasures revealed in the visions sent by the shard. He giggled and refused. Let the others pursue the doom of Torquetum, he said. He advised me to get rid of the piece and forget about it.

The other day, two colosses in black armour arrived to slay me and take my relic. I didn't realize how that happened but the crystal filled me with such strength and fury I hurled them meters away and tore them to bloody shreds with a single thought. Crazed with shock and fear, I fled the place right after the brawl.'

Surprisingly, the writing style had changed as if a different person took it up. Now monomaniac, driven by the shard's influence, the man started saving up for a great journey, and his wealth waxed with astonishing speed. He got fully devoted to the force behind the artifact believing it was the most useful patron. He renounced all faith in the Emperor and secretly performed heretical rites shown by the visions. He probably was a very strong psyker left latent in the mess of the latest Black Crusade.

Years had passed when he finally hired a rogue navigator and bought a trading ship to travel to the other end of the Galaxy and get the final direction to retrieve the fabled treasure. The same place Atlas headed to. The description of the travel itself matched that of the log page perfectly, the gigantic shadow, the field of shards, the majestic scarlet serpent.

Intrigued by the key to the mystery, I scrolled down to the next page.

'We were two in an empty ship imbued in gore and full of the smoke beasts. The navigator has gouged out his third eye with the sharp end of the crystal in overpowering madness. I didn't need him anymore as the enigmatic power alone could show the right direction through the warp.

The scarlet serpent was no man-made vessel. Even great battle barges were petty junkyard lighters compared to its majesty. It drifted through the aether by the will of its roiling waves, long left by its formidable master. I feared nothing when I led the ship to the open docks and descended to the deck made of living flesh. It smelled of musk and ambergris, and I heard silent screams of uncounted souls that have been devoured by the serpent in millions of years. I felt the shadow of her blessed presence and couldn't strive for more but to drink from the cup of her whoredom.'

Exactly what Glyceris had mumbled. The imagery had vague similarity with that of the Dark Prince but the details were radically different. There had been accounts of ghost ships in the Ordo Malleus digests but none of those was as ancient and there was no mentioning of any scarlet serpent.

His trip to this planet was described in brief remarks, nothing worth attention. He managed to get inside but some unrecorded encounter made him stop writing. The last page had a few rows of strange symbols, and I felt disturbance in the warp when I saw them. Work for the Malleus or Xenos, not the Hereticus. The top line was a hyperlink. When I clicked on it, one more line popped up. 'Let you see through the beast's eyes to get one with her.' The diary was intended to be read by another adventurer like viral letters some cultists send out to random mailboxes.

Reading it surely required some psychic skills but was targeted at a random person. The key should be there. I searched the folder for hidden utilities, looked at the flash drive itself trying to find a well-concealed psychoactive lense. Then a sudden recollection struck me. The flash drive had been found along with the crystal shard.

'I need your help, Brother.' I turned to Angel still sad and ashamed after the yesterday accident. 'Use your augmented strength to force Fluffster's safe.'

'Why? Let's wait till he wakes.'

'For the investigation business.'

Angel obeyed. Solid metal bent and cracked open at a few punches of his fists. Emergency signals lit above Fluffster's couch but he didn't even move. I pulled out the volkite gun and a small stasis container.

'Also coded. Brother, smash it but try not to break the shard inside.'

The container popped when he squeezed it in his fist, and the small chink of cursed crystal fell out to the floor. Fluffster had forbidden me to look inside. Something quite radical, but yet not even close to the tricks performed by my late mentor. I will no more use dubious things in future but I need to finish this case as we've gone too far to abandon it.

With a moment's hesitation I put the shard to my eyes and looked at the lines through the fume-stained crystal. Heavy smoke misted my vision, and the eerie symbols glared through in scarlet flame, changing to lines of letters, phosphor-bright and painful to look at.

'I found I found no other treasure worth it take me devour me I am part of your blessed maw your slumbering blaze your gaze of trillions of eyes my blood my flesh wrought by her touch into her sacred shape.'

A stab in the midriff let me breathless for a dozen seconds. I collapsed to the floor, and the shard slipped out of my palm. The three hurried to me with medicines and water. Uncle seated me back and took away the dataslate.

'You're deadly pale. Don't even try to deal with this nonsensical rubbish before we arrive. You will need strength there.'

The sacrifice mark hurt as a raw wound. I saw Angel reach for the crystal and quickly grabbed it but doubled over in violent pain. I stuffed the shard into a pocket trying not to touch it with bare skin. Still its presence was barely tolerable.

There were more riddles than answers after I'd read the text. I wrote down the keywords to search in the library of Uebotia and send a request to the Segmentum headquarters. Worst of all, the man had seemingly mutated at the visit to the fortress but he was a much stronger psyker than me. And I was still loyal to the Emperor, unlike him. It was sinful to use such blasphemous things but I hoped the Emperor would forgive me the transgression as I did my job of guarding the security of the Imperium. Yet my hope to remain a staunch Puritan as I'd promised after the death of my mentor had almost vanished.

When we landed in the dunes on the other shore, it was already dark. We had less than a day till the next appearance of the road, and I insisted on setting off soon as the pursuit was likely to overtake us here. One of the nulls could be bribed and employed for the mission, a stray thought popped in my head. But even a null acolyte wasn't worth a serious clash with another inquisitorial team, especially when I had something to hide.

The desert night was majestic and quiet. Dark skies were strewn by countless stars casting light on the vast sea of dunes extending to the horizon. The wind carried the same smell prevailing in the world, even more sinister when away from human presence.

About half a mile away a few faint lights flickered in the pathetic remains of a once beautiful city now half-buried in sand and turned into a smuggler village. Exactly the same one I'd visited years ago.

I decided to park the owl in the dunes and leave Angel and Sister to watch over Fluffster. They were not ready yet to meet the creepiest scum of the warped colony while Uncle had already been here. There was hardly anybody who could recognize us as only very few could live there for more than a year and not get crazy.

His face was gloomy when we came close to the maze of irregular streets. Last time he had barely escaped death from Aphedron's hands when we fled through the dunes along with three other acolytes. Two of them died quite soon, and only one lived for long enough to accompany my mentor to the fateful meeting with Imudon.

We stepped into the maze and found ourselves in a violent warp turmoil. The contours of buildings were constantly changing and twisting under unnatural angles, the directions of the meandering streets changed with every turn. Bonfires of weird colours lit the ruins of once opulent buildings lighting up wonderfully crafted tiles and mosaic panels with exquisite ornaments of exotic flowers and gracious animals. Voices were heard from inside but I couldn't even catch a single glimpse of those who dwelt there. Most of the locals were but ghosts and shadows, I remembered what our guide had said.

I noticed a human shape in the end of the street and headed there but it didn't get closer. My mind was still weak after the reading but I tried to use my psyker-sight to move through. The streets turned into a truly nauseating sight but I managed to find barely visible trails. It took about an hour just to halve the distance to the man. Almost exhausted, I called out to him and leaned to the closest wall. He stopped and turned back.

'An escaped witch,' he said gruffly. 'I have some job for witches, and you're lucky to be quite young and fresh. But you'll have to leave your decrepit daddy.'

'You've guessed wrong. We're searching for a guide to the Casbah.'

He whistled with contempt. 'Witch talent often makes people go nuts. You don't look like one who has even a tenth of the sum to pay for that. Don't be a fool and follow me lest you get lost in the streets or find your end at the hands of the ghosts.'

'Just tell me where to find the guide. Our wealth is none of your business.'

'Because you're poor as a church mouse. The guide often visits the gambling den where I'm going now. Go with me and you'll hear the same answer from him.'

'Fine, but let me take Uncle there to find a job for him as well.'

'Just don't make me feed him.'

The man approached us with a few steps and grabbed me by the arm offhandedly. A psyker of impressive power, he was a strapping middle-aged brute dressed in picturesque rags of once expensive brocade and silk and armed with a few artificer pistols and a force sword.

'Only witches can live for long here.' He waved at the twisting streets. 'No smuggling gang will survive a single night without our help. I'll train you for some extra service.'

He winked and made an obscene gesture. I replied with a careless grin but checked my chainsword and laspistol. We headed to a large brightly lit dome that had been a noble palace a hundred centuries ago.

'The only safe place here, girl. We gather here for the night when ghosts go hunting.'

'Why are you roaming the streets then?'

'I have friends on the other side who track every transport that crosses the sea. If newcomers are adventurous loons, I shoot them down and take their wealth, if they're witches I propose them a good job.'

'And if they're stronger than you?' I chuckled.

'I've got a warpflame pistol, sweetie. And if they're a real force there're some nice traps here to lead the morons right to the ghosts. Have you ever seen a fully armed mercenary company turned to mere pools of blood by a few pieces of dirty smoke?'

I'd seen much worse things, you bloody witch-hunter bait, I thought with irritation. It looked like there'd been no Black Ships in ages, and the southern curse amplified the population's psychic might.

We entered the dome through a half-broken ornate gate. The locks had been destroyed but a net of sorcery protected the passage from unwanted intruders. Most of the inner walls were missing so the den was a vast hall lit by bonfire pits and makeshift lamps where hundreds of people were boozing, gambling, sleeping in nests of rags. The air smelled of spice, cheap food, drug smoke and unwashed bodies.

Our patron led us to a large stone niche behind a row of carved columns that had once been the palace theatre. A ragged band of about forty people were sitting on the former stage. Their combined psychic might could open a rift that would easily swallow the world. A worthy case for a Hereticus operative I couldn't deal with.

Most of them were about my age, and the younger ones were all women. One of them, a tattooed lady with a large faceted jewel in the place of one eye, was playing a wild, barely human tune on a bone flute. A few younger girls were counting wraithbone beads at a smoking censer with narcotic mixture. A deformed, hairless man looking remotely like a genestealer hybrid was cleaning his firearms.

The flutist stopped playing and snapped at the ringleader. 'As if there're not enough broads.'

'Don't be that jealous,' he grunted back. 'If you don't like my rules, ghosts will make better company for you.'

She frowned and reached for a decorated snuffbox at her feet for another pinch of junk. The ringleader turned to Uncle who was still standing by my side.

'Why the dodderer's still here? Scram or get a bullet to your dumb head.'

'You've promised to show us the guide.' Uncle didn't move with his gun at ready.

'I promise much to get new witches to my little team. Your peashooter is nothing against the weakest witch here.'

He made a sign to one of the girls with wraithbone charms, and Uncle's sleeve started smoldering.

'Fine, I'll find the guide myself,' Uncle growled and walked away.

'So take off your carapace and show us your witch-powers.' The ringleader patted my shoulder. 'You need a new name to become one of us. When the moons rise high, you'll take your vows and give your soul to our sacred band.'

The deformed man pointed at me. 'She has Anathema's sign on her neck.'

'That's of no use here.' The leader's face got stern. 'You'll take it off and destroy it before the rite.'

I clenched my fists pondering on how to get out of here and stay alive.

'And something of tremendous value that makes her petty natural power grow to the degree of any of us,' the mutant went on.

'Much more interesting. Show us your treasure then.'

I didn't move.

'She might be an agent of the Inquisition,' one of the psykers said suddenly. 'I've heard from an informer in the north that an inquisitorial band has crossed that sea.'

The ringleader grabbed me by the chin. 'No time for jokes. If you're not an enemy, you'll let us search you. But if we find anything like a rosette or a Hereticus seal you'll be eaten alive at the next blood moon by the Beast Brethren. And you'll be looking forward to that day as there're many of us who're eager to return their debt to the Inquisition.'

I took a deep breath and reached for the psykout grenade. The stronger ones would be killed or stunned while I'd have a chance to escape. The mutant put his crooked finger to his lips.

'Not a single move. A sorcerer lord has just arrived. He'll rob us with ease.'

'We're as strong as a Greater Daemon together.' the ringleader said.

'He's an ancient legionnaire who's sealed a Keeper of Secrets within his battle-lash.'

Using the leader's confusion, I threw his hand off my shoulder, kicked the closest censer to the floor and leapt into the dense smokescreen. I've missed you, Pansexualis. My nemesis had got so powerful other scum mistook him for a sorcerer.

I ran between other groups of smugglers, junkies, cultists who paid no attention to another petty witch in the den.

'Uncle, are there news?' I shouted into the vox. 'I've escaped from the psyker band.'

'And I've found the guide. Head to the lotus-shaped columns in the eastern corner. He'll listen to your conditions.'

Surprisingly, the guide was the same man who'd led us through the village a few years ago. The world's influence had turned him into a similar mutant with purplish hairless skin and crooked limbs. He didn't look much willing to deal with me though.

'The young Interrogator has come back.' He grinned with his remaining crooked teeth. 'I already have another request but I'll listen to your price.'

'Hundred and fifty thousand.' I put everything to a dime on stake.

'You're kidding me, girl. For this price you cannot even walk half a way through the streets.'

'How much will the other pay?'

'It's a secret. But even tenfold as much as you promise won't be enough.'

It sounded crazy but I found the shard in my pocket and felt its power flood my mind.

'We have time to try our luck at the gambling table, Uncle.'