(V) - Bloodied, But Unbroken

by PhantomStag458

Nine years in to the forty-second millennium, the wavering Imperium of Man struggles against the turmoil engulfing the galaxy. Larn, long demobilised and living under the radar, ekes out an existence with his old prison gang the Roaneks, until an unexpected message from an old associate reaches him, calling for one last favour.

16. Chapter 16

Mellenova

Sores rode my elbows and knees. Fat, stinging beads seeped from my damp hair and clung to my cheeks. Lilli's lifeline stretched away down the passage. Shesmet's shuffling backside had long since melted away in to darkness.

"James," a low, husky voice sent pins dancing up my spine. My fingers curled in to fists and I rolled on to a shoulder.

"Shesmet?" I cupped a hand around my mouth and called back down the passage.

"Ladies first, remember?" Shesmet's voice, from far ahead, rolled back to me.

"James."

"Izuru—agh!" A curving pipe scraped my crown.

"Be me with, James."

"I can hear her." I wet my lips and ran my fingertips along my scalp. "She's calling to me."

"Pay no heed to her words. They are not her own."

"No…" I twisted and wriggled forwards. Neither are yours.

Further along, cooler air wafted over my smarting face. Open iris hatches led up, down, and onward. Lilli's lifeline rose alongside a set of rungs climbing up in to the vertical passageway. I heaved my torso over the drop and thrust my arm out. Slick fingertips pattered at the rungs. A dry croak scoured my throat.

"Be with me, James."

"—Agh!" My hand slipped free. Half over the edge, I wrenched my torso back and brought my prickling stump to my mouth.

"You won't let a little thing like that stop you, will you, James?" Shesmet's voice floated down the ladder.

"I've got four others that'll do the job just fine." I squinted up at the narrow rungs. "If they had one brain cell among them, they'd have started on my left hand." I lunged for the ladder and seized the icy metal. "…Agh, c'mon." My right hand closed around the same rung and I dragged my legs from the passage. My body swung downward. I tucked and flattened my feet. Rough metal slammed in to my bare soles. An oath tore from my lips and I scrabbled for purchase on the ladder.

"What is a little pain once in a while?"

"This—this is not pain." My feet found the rungs and I hauled myself upward. "Pain is letting Illic and Korsarro grow up without a mother. Pain is abandoning your only child to the Administratum."

"I have no child."

"A past life. Now, the thing that speaks to me is little more than a shadow manifesting itself in the darkest corners of the ship. An echo of an echo."

"The never-ending echo—hmph-hmph. How did it feel to tread the xenos halls?"

"Why would you ask that?" My fingers clenched around the rungs. My eyes roved the passage.

"Tiredness, headaches, a sense of nausea…?"

The ladder corkscrewed away above me. My head tilted backwards and my eyes rolled upward. "I… I…"

"Distorted perception of time?" I broke my hold on the rung and dragged my fingers down in to my eyes. "She saps your being. When you broke your shell above her body, you delivered her your essence. Now, your taste clings to her lips. What a fragrance…"

"No…" I seized a rung and brought a knee up. "My dear, you have as much to learn about love as you have about war. When you have lain shoulder to shoulder on a flat pan, deafened and dumbstruck beneath flying steel, spilled the same blood and suffered the same loss, only then will you know what we share."

"Yet still she has you dangling by strings."

"If I must give my life to mend that which broke the Numerial family, then that toll I pay forthwith." A little above my head, the rungs ended and a fresh crawlspace stretched away from me.

"Do you need help leaving her?" Shesmet's voice trickled in my ears. My bright red knees cleared the lip and I slithered forward.

"Lilli, throw me a line here." The tunnel ahead remained pitch-black.

"Of course, James," Shesmet replied. A bright red strip illuminated a row of pipes and streaked away around a corner thirty feet on. "You need only ask."

Oh, Lilli, what happened to you? Don't tell me she's taken the whole ship. I scrambled after the lifeline. Thin, white shafts poked through grates set at intervals in the tunnel ceiling. Medical?

Thumps rang along the alloy. My cheek met the deck and my hands curled in to fists. Sharp lasblasts, interspersed with alien cries, shrieked. A bolt seared through a grate further ahead and pinged around. I drove my fingers in to my hair and squeezed my eyes shut. Howls bombarded my ears. Burnt metal wafted in to my nostrils and soured my tongue. Blood-encrusted fragments spilled through the gaps in the nearest grate. Metal screeched apart and bloody crystals poured in to the vent.

Body rigid, eyes wide, I peeled my cheek off the deck. Orange light flickered through bent bars, with it, a faint crackling. God-Emperor, Shesmet. A bare, bloodied face, cheekbones caved inwards, teeth shattered, one eyeball popped clean from its socket, pressed against the warped grate. Crystalline saliva dribbled from frozen lips and landed on my shoulder. God-Emperor Almighty. I crawled beneath the next grate, rolled on my back and thrust my feet upward. "Agh!" The grate jumped then fell back in to its recess. I bent my knees and rammed my soles against the cold metal. Again, the grate jumped free. A sharp edge caught the deck. I pushed it sideways and pawed at the opening.

Arms and legs contorted at hideous angles, fifteen Culcassian guard lay amidst pools of blood crystals, shattered armour-plating, and warped lasblasters. Flames cavorted around empty pods at the far end of the wing. Cables, dangling from the ceiling, sparked off the cracked canopies.

"Estoc!" I scrambled out of the vent. "Shi—!" The deck tilted sideways. My shoulder struck an Eldar corpse sitting against a pod. Blood crystals poured from beneath its dented helmet. I hopped on one foot and wrenched at an ankle. A long, thin shard protruded from my sole. "Ffffu—" My thumb and forefinger closed around the shard and eased it out.

Warmth surged over my skin. With a whump, the flames climbed to the ceiling and flowed over the pods. Glass shards carpeted the deck. Steam rose from a pool of leaking fluid. I picked my way through the glass to Estoc's pod and stabbed at the control module beneath a dead display screen. "Estoc!" My fist hammered on the canopy. Glass crackled and popped. A hissing rose from the fluid. "Wake up!" Fire leaped across the pods. "Wa—!" A hand patted the inside of the canopy. I dove at a body lying on its side, dug my fingers beneath the rent armour, and heaved it off a warped lasblaster. "Cover your face!" White Wraithbone smacked the canopy. A tiny chink spread outward. Flames bathed the adjacent pod. Skin burning, eyes smarting, I pummelled the cracking glass inward. Shards spilled inside and landed on Estoc. Steaming fluid seared my feet. I dropped the lasblaster, hooked my fingers around the broken teeth and wrenched the glass away from the opening, a howl tearing free from my throat. Blood dripped from my palms and smeared the canopy. A cold hand seized mine. I lunged at Estoc and dragged his arm around my shoulder. "C'mon… C'MON!"

"…Can't." Sunken-eyed, arms shaking, Estoc dug his fingers in my shoulder.

"Estoc, push!" Half-in, half-out of the pod, Estoc wormed his bandaged chest through the smashed canopy. Flames licked at the pod. Smoke forced its way down my throat. With one last heave, Estoc's stumps came free and flopped down in to the spreading coolant. I bent my knees and hoisted Estoc's body over my shoulders. Deep within the roaring inferno, a figure melted from the smoke and spread its arms. Fire forming a halo around her, Shesmet found my eye and smiled. I tore my gaze from her and tottered over to the smoke-wreathed hatch.

Thin, bloody footprints trailed me. The glow of the burning medical wing receding behind me, I staggered along the corridor.

"…Can't breathe," Estoc gasped.

"Can't stop. Not safe." I dove at a sealed hatch and thrust my palm against the release. Steel teeth whirred apart. Boots hammered the deck ahead and a beam sliced around the corner. Culcassian Guard spilled in to the corridor and formed a double rank, one kneeling, the other standing. Bright green lasers wavered upon my chest.

"Stand fast, human!"

I shuffled forward a pace. "You wouldn't deprive a disabled veteran of his legs, would you…?"

"STAND FAST!"

Beams flicked up my face and painted my forehead green. My knees began trembling. Estoc's body started to slip. A crash behind flung me forwards on to my knees. A burning pod fell from the dented bulkhead opposite the entrance to the medical wing and slammed on to the deck. Teeth gritted, I bucked Estoc back on my shoulders and barrelled at the wavering line. Long-barrelled lasblasters tilted upward and the Eldar shuffled aside. Hands lunged at me and seized my elbows.

"Fuck off!" I swung Estoc around. A stump smacked the Eldar's helmet.

"RILLIS! RILLIS!" Lasblasters screamed. The Eldar grip slackened and I wrenched free and careered away. Bolts pinged off the alloy. Alien screams pursued me.

"Lilli, help us!" Throat raw, chest heaving, I swayed at a crossroads branching off in three different directions. Maroon lnquisitorial sigils lined with gold reared on the bulkheads but neither map nor sign graced them. A holographic arrow rose from the deck and peeled away from the sharp reports and pounding boots pursuing Estoc and I. A gap appeared in a spiked letter I emblazoned on a pair of double doors and revealed a narrow platform suspended in a cage. I stumbled in and jabbed a finger at the control panel. Both doors stayed silent. My fingertips danced around the panel, pressing in every single button.

Biting air lanced my cheek. A bolt whipped inside the lift and ate a plate-sized corner of the cage, leaving a gloopy, dripping mess. My knees buckled and hit the floor. Air exploded from Estoc's mouth.

"Hold on, Estoc." I sat Estoc against the cage and slapped his grey, stubble-flecked cheek. "Hoi, Commander! Hang in there." Both doors trundled inward. "Don't you fucking give up on me now, you old bastard."

Wraithbone scraped through the narrowing gap and an arm flailed inside the lift. I flung myself over Estoc's body. A bare-headed Eldar, face soaked in blood crystals, gaped at me. "Help me—AGH!" His face flew backwards and the doors clanged together. My stomach dropped. Shallow wheezes slipped from Estoc's trembling lips. Chains clanked and the lift bore us upward.

---

Operations

Chin buried in his fist, Ellorias glowered at the bomb's dead display. In the corner of his eye, four of his guards gathered around the bareheaded Lessa Muraddin. "Lessa. Lessa."

"Lord." Helmet wedged in the crook of his arm, Lessa parted with his company. His gauntlet rested upon his sheathed sword. "We bid you consider ret—"

A deep groan descended upon Operations and all light died. Ellorias leaped from his chair, drew his lasblaster and stuffed it in his belt at the small of his back. "To me!" Silence filled the room. "The House of Culcassian, to your lord!"

Deep red bathed Operations and armed figures surrounding Lessa Muraddin. "Lord…" Lessa's helmet plunged over his face. Slanted eye lenses burned white. "For your household's safe being, your captain urges you curry thought to evacuation." Ellorias's hand closed around the knife on his hip. His eyes whisked between Lessa's party and the technicians. All had left their stations and all faced him.

"Laid to its bare skin, the human makes fugitive and offers us its foul liquid blood; a keen trail to track. Attend your station and provide update upon renewal." White light blazed down upon the room. Ellorias's glove relaxed around his knife. "Now, comms…?" The bareheaded technicians retreated to the human hardware and clamped headsets over their ears. "Lessa?" Ellorias advanced on Lessa, hand outstretched. "Look me in the eye."

"Lord…" Lessa's thumb caressed the pommel of his sword.

"Lord, communications with both teams have ceased!" A technician wrenched a headset off. "There is nothing."

"Convey your report once more." Ellorias kept his eyes on Lessa. "And do so without passion."

"Lord, the medical team and the response team have both ceased responding to my hails."

"You are unfamiliar with human hardware," Ellorias snapped. "Recalibrate and repeat."

"Both teams…" Lessa muttered. "Twenty-seven blades."

"Lessa, look me in the eye!" Ellorias clasped Lessa's gauntlet in his gloves.

"Lord…" Lessa ripped his hand free. "We are a vessel adrift. Our household falls to the machinations of a human spared the sword on your order." The four remaining household guard around Lessa spread out. "Look at us now, a ship of FOOLS!"

"You fall, Lessa. I am in complete control."

"No, Lor." Lessa's thumb loosened his sword. "For your safety, you are being evacuated from this ship." Five wraithbone swords flew from sheaths and pointed aloft. "Stay thy hands, retire with honour."

"Lessa…" Ellorias offered his open hand. "Mate your hand with mine."

"Household Guard, relieve your lord of his weapons."

"Stand fast. My hands are bare. I am bereft intent." Ellorias tugged off a glove and thrust his bare hand at Lessa. "Kiss and make peace, old friend. Let us retire with honour."

"You are being relieved your arms." Lessa jerked his head and hissed at one of the silent guards. "Execute."

The guard circled around Ellorias and lunged at his empty holster. "Captain, the lord's lasblaster is missing!"

"Lor, you—"

Ellorias smacked Lessa's blade aside. His knife whipped underneath Lessa's helmet, pierced the thin seal covering his chin, and drove upwards. Lessa tipped forward in to Ellorias's embrace. One arm around Lessa, Ellorias drew his lasblaster and swept it across the four rooted guards.

"THE HOUSE CULCASSIAN, TO YOUR LORD!"

Blades met noses in salute. "At your command, Lord Culcassian!"

"The House Culcassian retires to the towing vessel, then on to the Home Fleet. Rendezvous in the main hangar bay, you have ten minutes." Ellorias bent his knees and laid the trembling Lessa flat on the deck. I wish you could have chosen the time and place of passing. Ellorias twisted the crystal-covered knife from Lessa's brain and levered it in to the shallow recess on his chestplate. Embedded there was an ochre Waystone. Your name will be remembered fondly in this house's history.

Crammed in to the squeaking, rattling tram cars with his party, Ellorias rested his right knee against the bomb's vibrating casing. He pinched a fingertip on his glove and peeled it off. Tiny pink crystals brimmed the space beneath his fingernails. Damn you for forcing my hand, Lessa.

"Lord, an abominable entity makes castellan of this vessel," a guard said. "Our captain saw this."

"It is welcome to it." Ellorias drove his fingernails in to his palm. "And its human thrall."

Steel screeched. Ellorias flew sideways. His ear cracked a wraithbone shoulder guard and he flopped on the floor amidst arms and legs. "…Kurnous!" He gasped. Inside the cars, the overhead lighting had faded. Outside, tiny blinkers cast pitiful light in the transit tunnel. "On your feet!" Ellorias shoved a leg aside and jabbed the butt of a long lasblaster in the floor and levered himself up. "Stand up!"

"This ship wants us dead," a voice muttered.

A face, stark white, grew in the corner of Ellorias's eye. His eyes crawled up the benches and on to the dirty window. No, not you. Ellorias's trembling fingers let go of the lasblaster. Vaul, Isha, Asuryan, you will not have my sons!

Grey lips peeled back from pointed teeth. Yellow eyes flashed and a scream burrowed inside Ellorias's ears. His eyes rolled back in to his head and the tram car tilted. Ellorias's head smacked the bench and his body went limp.

Hands gripped Ellorias by the armpits and ankles. "…No!" Ellorias blurted. "Vaul's blood, you will not take my sons!" He bucked his shoulders and kicked his legs. "LIAR, KILLER, WHORE!"

"Please, lord! Neither blade nor blaster offers salvation," a bareheaded, blood-stained guard holding Ellorias's right ankle cried. "For House Culcassian's safety, we bear your lordship's command void-side."

"Isha's tears…" Ellorias craned his neck. Nerves burned in his head. Four of his household hurried him across the hangar. "Where is the bomb?"

"Lost to darkness, lord."

"FIND IT!" Spittle launched from between Ellorias's teeth and landed on his chin.

"Lord, our bodies must ensure your safe evacuation—we are all that is left!"

Ellorias arched his back and screamed at the distant ceiling. The Zurvan's underbelly flung a shadow over him. Two of his bodyguard let go of his legs and rushed around to the cockpit. The other two huddled around him clutching lasblasters to their blackened, dented chest plates glittering with blood crystals.

"She must not have it…" Ellorias growled and lifted his shoulders off the deck. Hands flew down upon his shoulders and pinned him there. The Zurvan's bomb bay doors whirred open and a hand thrust at Ellorias.

"Lord Culcassian."

She will not have them. Ellorias lunged at the hand and hauled himself in to the fighter's guts. I will take their lives before her hands fall upon them.

---

Ynnead's Dream

Blue flame dripped from the Yncarne's outstretched fingers. Its lipless mouth widened. Murekhalir. An oily hiss trickled in to Izuru's ears. Her stomach clenched and her gut squirmed. Rise.

"Ynnead speaks," Yvraine whispered. "Heed its call."

Izuru's chin tilted up. From beneath her lowered eyelids, a single tear crept down her cheek. Ilic, Korsarro, I am sorry. Izuru's feet left the floor. Above her, the Yncarne spread its arms.

Beyond the fields, the mountains, we walk the long path, hand in hand to the edge of light. Will you go with me in to the great darkness?

"Again and again." Izuru's lower lip trembled.

Your greatest calling beckons. Prove to your sons that they matter to you.

"My greatest calling." White light blazed around the Yncarne's body searing Izuru's wide eyes. Her heart soared. "My children! My soulmate!" Light radiated from Izuru's body, eclipsing the Yncarne's flame with a roar of crashing waves. Her arms spread wide. Beneath her, Yvraine cupped a wizened hand over her eyes. "Goodbye." Izuru's back arched and her hair exploded outwards. Her body writhed, alien shrieks ripping free. A wispy, transparent blur whipped past the cowed Yncarne and corkscrewed around the energy beam.

Izuru's feet touched the cold floor. Wet eyes followed the phantom's spiralling ascent. "Go well, Murekhalir."

Yvraine tore her mask free. A horrid sneer soured her chalk face. "You would defy a god?" Behind her chapped lips, gaps showed in her discoloured teeth. Above Yvraine's throne, the Yncarne aimed a claw. From the pointed tip a flaming rune formed, matching the weeping Eye of Ulthwé.

"—Agh!" Izuru's fingers closed around her wrist. Red lines etched across the skin on her palm, drawing the rune identical to the Yncarne's summon. "…Oh." Izuru clutched her burned hand to her chest. Ulthranwé, is that you?

"You would defy me?" Yvraine, slouching, plugged her mask back on. Izuru made the Eye over her breast, curtseyed, then backed away. Faint flames licked the Yncarne's body. Its grin had disappeared. Aimlessly, it flitted around, its interest no longer in the dais's occupants.

Head held aloft, shoulders back, Izuru descended the steps to the silent congregation. Her physical form remained lifeless inside the hovering containment pod. Thank you for helping me remember who I am, James. Restraints popped open and the canopy melted away. With a smile, Izuru faded. Her eyes opened and she sucked air in to her heaving lungs. Never again, never again. Izuru gripped the smooth edge and dragged her body out. Her knees buckled and her shoulder knocked against the pod. Far down the corridor made by the Holy Guard came Salacin Nightspear and an armed escort. Izuru pushed away from the pod, straightened the folds of her robes, and flapped the sodden patch clinging to the small of her back. The distant Yncarne meandered around, the Prophet its only company. The loneliness you must feel upon your throne. Prophet or not, that is no way to exist. Izuru's mind reached up the steps to Yvraine. Iron hard barriers rebuffed her.

A Holy Guard party, eight abreast and a dozen deep, cracked polearm butts against the floor. Izuru's shoulders twitched. Then, every one of the Holy Guard forming the corridor about-turned and came to face inwards. Their polearms joined the crashing. Ears ringing, Izuru thrust her chest out and turned her back on the throne. Salacin Nightspear, gauntlets clasped above his belt buckle, stood silent.

Izuru made the Eye of Ulthwé and thrust out her palm. Polearm butts froze on the floor. A deep, throaty rasp crossed Izuru's lips. "The Yncarne has spoken. Divorced from bale furies and late for the Grand Crelirun's chamber, I am."

Salacin contorted his fingers in to the Ynnari rune. He then beckoned Izuru alongside him. The Holy Guard split their ranks and formed a corridor. Polearm tips met and made an unbroken tunnel above Izuru and Salacin. "You know it was the late Ulthranwé's wish that Solene Yirryl sit where he sat. Did the Yncarne recognise you a daughter of Ulthwé?"

"False lineage, sir. I desire no throne nor seat. I am fated to spiralling conflict with my bondmate."

"Yet the word of a god—even a fragmentary being—cannot be passed off as mere soothsaying."

"Gods, Prophets, thrones. I have reached so far above my station I lost sight of the being I truly am. It was human poetry and a lover's sunrise that grounded me, saved me."

"I had hoped the foreigner at your bondmate's table aspired to higher morals, not the urging of the primate and the barbarian. Adulterous rumours may reach the ears of the Grand Crelirun. Affect no reply if questioned on the affair, that may be seen as defensive."

"Captain Nightspear—" Izuru halted before the anti-gravity lift at the edge of the hall.

"—Salacin." Salacin offered a gauntlet.

"Please, no." Izuru waved Salacin's hand away. "Matters of council aside, I missed the presence of the crimson warrior—the Prophet's Blade."

"The Visarch's affairs keep him absent the Prophet's side. His breastplate conceals many a vocation; not just her sworn shield."

Swallowed in the gravity lift, Izuru's stomach plummeted. Salacin soared beside her. "A favour, I would ask of you."

"Within my power."

Izuru's feet met the high shelf overlooking the vast chamber. Salacin's boots thudded. "Weariness and malady ail the Prophet—"

Let us continue in private. Salacin glanced at the pairs of Holy Guard flanking the half dozen portals arranged on platforms around the shelf.

"Oh…" Izuru's shoulders sunk. "All of those people down there, families, young, old, beings yearning for a quiet life held hostage in communion. Is blind ignorance the way ahead for them? I'd accuse the human empire of such atrocity—where is the hope in that?"

If the people knew the Prophet's condition, civil order evaporates. She is not a being atop that throne, she is an ideal, a symbol of hope that one day we will conquer that which lurks beyond the Veil.

"She is tired and lonely with no-one to talk to but the Yncarne. Send cry to the Visarch, wherever he may be, please."

Were it within my power.

"If not yours then the Grand Crelirun."

"If that is what you wish, I will pass you on to a being of politics—Fair Taldeer." Salacin extended his arm at a being wrapped in two capes hunched over on a low bench squidged between portals.

Has she taken ill? Izuru eyed the pale, visibly-sweating Taldeer shrug off a cape, stand up, and snatch the fallen garment and bundle it around her shoulders.

"You saw the Yncarne…" One of Taldeer's brows arched. Her eyes did not meet Izuru's. "Spoke with it."

"Through the Prophet." Izuru raised her branded palm. "Exorcised, my spirit is. I am free to apologise for my previous episode in your company."

"I accept your apology, Ranger." Taldeer made the Eye. "But Ulthwé remembers."

"Likewise. We carry our misdeeds with us to the Infinity Circuit, but we are not bound to whither in their shadow for the rest of our existence. Captain, can I count on your support in three days, should I need it?"

Lady Numerial, my blade is yours. Salacin made the Ynnari rune above his breast.

Taldeer hauled her cloaks with her up to a threesome of portals on a diamond-shaped balcony thirty feet above the platform and blinked through the middlemost portal without so much as a word to Izuru. Stars formed streaks of light and rushed past Izuru, weightlessness elevating her stomach and warming her loins.

Crystalline spikes, shaped like petals, exploded outwards from writhing pillars supporting a hallway of pale blue ice. Hair-thin cracks criss-crossed the floor beneath Izuru's feet. At her shoulder, Taldeer led her away from the chamber to the Prophet's throne room and through the spiked chamber. Not a soul blinked in to or out of the many dozen portals glowing in the near or far distance. Fog obscured the chamber's physical boundaries, if there were any.

Is the hour so late? Izuru pinched the folds of her robes to her throat. Maybe it is early. A pale-white blur flew out from beneath her feet and spiralled up the inside of the nearest pillar. The sharpest tips glowed white. A gathering of the dead? Izuru's eyes climbed to the ceiling. Hundreds of spirits flitted about inside the transparent ceiling.

Your voice echoes around this chamber, Coldras. Is it a cry for help?

"I do not believe in keeping my feelings downtrodden, Seer. Repression keeps our people miserable; I dare say it does the humans too."

"Belief holds the masses in its sway, keeps them focused. Whether round-eared or pointed, the practise of faith is the promise of salvation."

"Wow, er… Earlier today I mistook you for a cynic."

"Only when I am sober. Can you imagine a Ynnari without the Prophet? What she is doing for all of us?" Taldeer's shoe caught on the hem of her cloak and she toppled forwards up a set of steps climbing to a portal.

"—Oh!" Izuru lunged at Taldeer and caught her by the shoulders and steadied her. "Come, Seer, let's not have the bottle make a mistress of you. You can do better than that."

"And you can do better than a merchant, a master of coin." Taldeer sunk to the steps. "Just behind me… Grand Crelirun."

"Oh." Izuru mounted the platform before the pulsating portal. No reception, no escort?

"Find a better bondmate, Izuru Numerial. Make yourself happy." A glint of gold landed at Izuru's feet and skittered over to the foot of the portal. "It seems the stars appreciate you enough."

This? Izuru kneeled and scooped up the EOD. "Er—" She twisted and looked at the sunken-shouldered Taldeer. "I could bring mention of you to the chamber…?"

"What is a spinster's word over a firebrand's and an Yncarne-blessed?"

"A pureblood."

"Nothing but guilt and rot fills these veins."

"Better a gentle-born daughter of the stars than a bastard Ranger of muddied lineage." Izuru tucked the EOD up her sleeve. "I will speak of you."

"Isha weeps for you." Taldeer's chin sunk in to her first.

I'd rather a smile. Izuru faced the portal, straightened her back, raised her chin, and blinked through.

---

Mellenova, Inquisitor's Chambers

Ashes stained the flagstones ringing the dead firepit. Behind the Inquisitor's empty desk loomed the giant letter I and a bare eyeball embedded in the centre. Short, high-pitched wheezes scraped through my bunged-up nostrils. Sticky footprints trailed me back to the golden doors. Estoc's body ground red welts in to my shoulders. His knees dug in to my sore ribs.

"Pa… Pa… Paper." Estoc's outstretched fingers quivered at the Inquisitor's desk.

"Mm-mmm." My head shook. Dry lungs burning, I tottered over to the staircase leading down to the Inquisitor's bedchambers.

"Down. Put me down."

"A'ight, hang on." I stumbled sideways on the topmost step and bent my knees. "Let—let go." Estoc's crossed arms slid back over my shoulders. Face drained, Estoc lifted his arm and curled clawed fingers. "Pa… Pa… Paper." Thin gauze covering the dinnerplate-sized wound in Estoc's chest rose and fell. "Will."

"At your age?" Shoulders hunched, I got my fingers around my ankle and twisted my foot. Lacerations criss-crossed my sole. Dried blood trails encrusted my torso. Fuck it, I'll humour the old bastard. I hobbled around to the Inquisitor's desk, swiped a sheaf of blank papers, an ink bottle, and a diamond-tipped quill. Dust exploded from the browned sheets.

"Give it—give it." Estoc patted the floor. I popped the cap off the bottle and laid the quill on the sheets beside him.

"Don't nod off, now." I made the descent to the four-poster chamber and flung open the tall double doors in the cabinet holding the Inquisitor's suit racks. Arms laden beneath stacks of clothing, I shuffled back out in to the four-poster chamber and eyed the silk drapes surrounding the bed. One by one, they tore free from their rings and drifted downward. Silk whispered in my wake. A faint scratching came from the top of the staircase.

"Turn around, James."

Clothes tipped from my arms and thudded on the floor. The silk drapes landed beside them. "Shesmet?" The four-poster slid back from a circular hatch marked with an inquisitorial sigil. A naked eye bulged in the centre of the emblem. Air gushed from the hatch and both halves slid apart. Steps led down in to a circular chamber thirty feet wide and barren. Recessed lights, running in a ring around the chamber's edge, flung green shafts upwards. In the centre of floor, a circular column rose and above it another identical column descended from a hatch in the ceiling. Both columns rotated and articulated arms unfolded and deployed monitors. Green light flew at my eyes. A yellow letter I blinked on the nearest screen. Curving consoles, festooned with switches, juddered from the floor and rose to meet the monitors.

"Hello?" I whispered. The Inquisitorial sigil dissolved and a woman's face formed onscreen. Deep brown eyes, large lips and a full chin. The sweat clinging to my body froze. "Lilli?"

"Lilli is a flash-clone," Andalusia said. "That narrative I could not shatter. I am sorry for lying to you, James. Lilli is my back-up storage, a deposit box for my deep memories. When I change bodies, more and more of my organic memories are lost, memories I am loathe to part with. Everything to play that up—everything to stay hidden from Izuru Numerial! I pushed Lilli for all she was worth."

"You could have told me the truth," I muttered, a muscle twitching in my cheek. "I trusted you, Lusia."

"Do you really think that hot-blooded xenos would see anything but competition?"

"There is no fucking competition. You were the one person I trusted."

"Look at that hand! The longer you spend around the xenos, the more body you'll see yourself sacrificing!"

"If I have more to give then so be it."

"You'll give everything, everything for this poisonous love affair you can't seem to escape from!" Lusia's face disappeared from the screens. I hung my head and scratched at the dried blood coating my forehead.

"I miss you." Light rays played from a projector and a pale green figure in hooded AdMech robes materialised. "You know, my fondest memories are of neither my mates in the Guard or with Izuru Numerial. Passion flowed freely during our liaisons over these past ten years. Then we would awaken and feels the galaxy's burning hatred of us. You were there for me, both when I was at my best and my worst. You complete me, Lusia, not her."

Lusia's projection faced me. Her eyes glowed. "You have done more for that one xenos than any of your own people. Why does it mean so much to you?"

"Izuru is still a mother at the end of the day and one estranged her sons. Where is the justice in that?"

"You met the husband, didn't you?" Lusia's hand flew to her mouth. "He did that to you!"

"Estoc and I need a way off this ship." I spun at the monitors and cast my eyes over them. "You must be blind down here or else you'd have seen the butcher's bill in Medical. Our psyker friend left Estoc and me alone."

Not a psyker, a daemon." Lusia dissolved and faded in to the machine. "This Black Room is the only structure on the ship it cannot enter."

"I thought Mellenova had no anti-psyker facilities."

"Likewise. This room isn't on the ship's schematics, I happened upon a backdoor by chance."

"Can you find us a way off the ship? Escape pod, a life-raft perhaps."

"I can meet you and raise."

"Oh…?" I threw a look over my shoulder at the reems of code playing across the monitors.

"Just one thing first, James?"

"…Aye?"

"Put some pants on."

Fat rocket engines squeezed a square, gunmetal body covered in rivets nestling in a cradle feeding in to a launch tube. White letter I's gaped on the shuttle's clipped, gull wings. Done up in a black, double-breasted jacket of Zeleska's, I bore Estoc on my shoulders around the shuttle's tail and up through a narrow hatch. "Knees in."

Two rows of half a dozen bucket seats occupied a low-ceilinged cargo compartment, the nearest of which I sat Estoc in. "Good? Breathin' better?"

"Yeah." A high-collared tunic of green wool covered Estoc's chest and a pair of serge trouserlegs flapped over his stumps. "Take—take this." Folded-up paper protruded from between his cold fingers.

"No fucking chance."

"Take it." Estoc stuffed the will in to my trouser pocket. "An order."

"Nothing of the sort keeping us 'ere, now." I dragged harness straps around Estoc's chest and clipped them together. "I'm overdue that demob." A pair of tiny light strips glowed on the shoulders of a silver-plated chrono on my wrist. "Go, Lusia." I lunged at an overhead hold and swung up in to the shuttle's cockpit. Instrument panels penned me in on three sides and a fat yoke rose between my thighs.

"Poor Estoc." A tiny green hologram jumped from the chrono to the shuttle's central power unit. A red bulb blinked on beneath Master Power.

"Ohh, he'd never allow that." I jerked the harness halves over my chest and fed the buckles together. My right hand prickled. "…Ahh, bloody thing." A low hum resonated from beneath my feet and a tickle flowed through my toes.

"I'm just thinking what you're planning on doing to the husband since he left your hand, your face in that state."

"That is Eldar business conducted far beyond my weary eyes." Switch banks lit up. Vibrations surged through the leather binding my chair. Bright orange bulbs spiralled inside transparent casings poking out of the bulkheads. "Lusia, I…" A vice closed around my throat.

"Ears, James."

"Ears?" I pulled a pair of headphones attached to coiled cord down from a hook and snapped them over my ears. A faint green heads-up display glowed over the square viewport. A pitch-black launch tube stretched away from the shuttle. "Lusia, I said something I shouldn't have… to Izuru."

"That's something we all fall to, saying dumb things to our partners after awakening."

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Yes."

"That's the thing, I can't tell whether what I feel is genuine or if I'm fooling myself. She's had me good and proper, all I've yet to give her is my life and I'm keeping that beneath my belt. What's it like, Lusia? Existing far beyond your natural lifespan?"

"Monotone—long periods of boredom punctuated by sharp thrills. The longer the haul, the patchier my memory becomes."

"I couldn't do it."

"Do what?"

"Something Izuru's husband said, something about bridging the gap between her and me which I guess were lies. I cannot go further than my body wants to. Maybe thirty, forty years then things will go back to the way they were, and Izuru goes back to him… again and this miserable cycle for her comes round… again."

"Maybe it's time to hang up your hat and be done with the Eldar." Lights flashed on at intervals down the launch tube. "Start thinking about yourself, where you'd like to go after your retirement. Let there be an end to all this misery and bloodshed."

"That's the problem, there's no end to misery and bloodshed as long as humans, Eldar, anything sentient exists. You can't kill it because it's something within ourselves. It's part of us—me, you, Estoc, Izuru, even Ellorias Culcassian."

"Hang on, James."

"Aye." I seized a pair of grips on the seat's trembling headrest. "Count us down, Lu."

"Three, two, one, ignition."

Engines rising to a screaming pitch, the shuttle rocketed down the tube and burst free of Mellenova's hull. Eldar warships packed the vacuum around her. Giant capital ships, smaller escorts clustered around them, and thousands of fighters filling up every square klick of airspace.

"James, I've lost control!"

"Okay, let her—let her go." I relaxed my grip on the headrest and linked my fingers behind my head. "Just let 'em reel us in."

Estoc's chin rested on his breast. His limp hands piled in his lap. I sunk in to the bucket seat opposite his and flexed my sore fingers. "You ever been under?"

"You know I have," I grunted. "Fifteen-hour surgery after Orsolya. I can still feel the metal in my chest."

"Awake—ahurgh!" Estoc shoved his knuckle against his lips. "Urgh, s'cuse me…"

"They put me to sleep. Bright lights before and after I woke up."

"Not like that. I was aware, aware of the xenos, of everything around me. I couldn't feel anything like I had stepped out of my body. Is that what death feels like?"

"Now I see why you're so eager to pawn your stuff off." I drew Estoc's folded-up will from my trouser pocket and thrust it at him. "No bright light, no Golden Throne for you today, old boy."

"Open it." A grin peeled Estoc's drained lips apart. "Open it."

My scowling eyes skimmed the neat, flowery scrawl covering the creased paper. Fire surged up my spine and burned my nape. I folded the will together in my hands and pushed it back at Estoc. "…Fuck."

"You stubborn sub-lieutenant, you." Estoc pressed his palm to his chest and tilted his head back. "On your pay, your pension, you'd do little better than the breadline outside the Service."

"Private citizen, my own man." I leaned forward in my seat. "I have waited almost thirty years for that, to be allowed to say yes, no, maybe. I will find Titus Kaukasios, empty my savings for him then deposit myself at the nearest watering hole."

"You stubborn citizen, you. Who is this man?"

"Boy—sixteen, seventeen. I will do what his father could not, his mother would not. I will give him a future if it kills me."

"Noble…" Estoc drew in a lungful. "B—blockhead."

"I've spent the last two years trying to find him. I'm terrified they're already filling his ears with blind zeal and dogmatic nonsense. They turn children in to informers, they do. Can you imagine your own son or daughter watching you, informing on you?"

"I couldn't bear to raise a child full stop. We never—never—considered it, though I still consider myself married."

"What was her name?"

"Ramona."

"Ramona," I murmured. "No, no, I'd not want any children. It'd be an upbringing based around the belt and that's no way to raise a wean. Childcare, that is a gentle soul's calling."

"Why not consider adoption? You will get nowhere pouring a pittance in to this boy's savings."

"No, no, I just want him to know there's someone else looking out for him, not just the Emperor."

"Parents?"

"His father's dead, his mother infests Mellenova. That's on me, that is."

"God-Emperor, James, what have you done?"

"I couldn't reach her, Estoc," I croaked. My fingernails dug in to my palms. "I couldn't reach her."

A dull clung rang through the shuttle's hull. I lurched from the bucket seat and climbed up in to the cockpit. "Oh, Throne of…"

Outside the shuttle's viewport rose colossal blue pillars filled with glittering diamonds high enough the ceiling was lost in pale green fog. Huge openings in the pillars swallowed streams of starships. Bright orbs hovered in the air around the shuttle, their radiance illuminating the strange, glacierlike surface the shuttle's belly rested on. Mouth agape, I watched a foursome of spindly-legged bipeds totter from the space beyond the light. Twice the height of Imperial scout walkers, blood red paint shone on their bulbous bodies and black runes coated their flanks.

"You know that old saying, James…?" Lusia's voice played over the shuttle's intercom. "Out of the frying pan—"

"—No, no, anywhere's better than Mellenova." I pinched the shoulder buttons on my chrono. A bright green blur flew from the shuttle's central unit to my chrono. "Best keep a low profile for now."

"What are you planning?"

"You know me, I just make it up as I go." I threw the chrono a wink.

"Can I just say something, James?"

"Lusia, I'm not upset because of the Lilli situation. I know you had our best interests at heart. I do mean what I said back on Mellenova too – you complete me."

"Thank you, James, but I was just going to ask you to keep your trousers done up."

"Hmph, don't worry I won't frighten them to death." I turned my back on the approaching walkers and swung down to Estoc. "Company."

"Want me to do the talking?" Estoc wheezed.

"You just lie there looking forlorn." I unclipped Estoc's harness and hauled his arms over my shoulders. "Those stumps o' yours might cause 'em to think twice about zapping us on the spot."

"Or they'll think you ate my feet."

"Can't say I've ever taken a nibble of another's toes." I hooked my fingers around the shuttle's side hatch release and wrenched the lever down. "Though if it came to that, I'd start on the eyes." Air exploded from the hatch's pistons and both halves unfolded.

"You sump-minded slag-dweller, you."

"Aye, that's hive life." A slow grin crawled across the dried cuts on my lips. "Hur-hur." The blue lights on the shoulders of my chrono flared red. White veins pulsated just beneath the surface of the hangar floor. Denser air than aboard Mellenova washed over my bruised, swollen, cut-ridden skin. Tottering beneath Estoc's body, I planted a boot upon the cavern floor – a pale blue – and rounded the shuttle's wing and faced the silent walkers. Las batteries rode the shoulders of opaque canopies. Gentle ripples spread beneath their hoof-like feet. I bent my knees and let Estoc's arms slide over my shoulders. Hands flat, arms spread, I rose and took a deep breath.

"I am Osvat Radu Zeleska of His most holy Ordo Hereticus. I arrive unarmed and in peace!" I shouted. None of the four machines made a sound. Their batteries remained cold. "I must speak with your captain-general!" My lips drew back from my grinding teeth. "AM I SPEAKING TO MEN OR FUCKING MACHINES!"

A cleft hoof rose and a walker detached itself from the troop. It took near-silent steps towards me before halting fifteen feet away and squatting. The bulging canopy hissed open and a being in bright red armour stepped down to the ground. Curving spikes ran along its arms, shoulder pauldrons, and dotted its greaves and shins. Two pairs of horns sprouted from a skull-shaped helmet. Eyes gleamed behind a black T-visor. Studded gauntlets closed around the being's helmet and lifted.

"You said your name was Semarek." Pallid skin stretched over slanted cheekbones. Emerald eyes narrowed.

"Aye…" The corner of my mouth stretched. "And we'd both be wrong there, Captain Nightspear."

"So, twice the liar." Captain Nightspear brought his gauntlets together. "Convince me why I should not have you and the cripple atomised."

"Ah, you'd not be standing here bareheaded if you didn't recognise me from Lirithion. Now among that colourful crowd I did observe you alone paying respect towards the Lady Numerial. Your kindliness stood you leagues above their squabbles and that, that makes you mighty. You are a being of integrity, of honour, and though our species, our values differ, I hope we can approach one another as warriors. Though I possess no sword, I offer it to you along with…" I threw a look over my shoulder at Estoc. Propped up on an elbow with a hand on his chest, Estoc nodded. "…Along with our unconditional surrender."

"I do not accept the surrender of a turncoat."

"No, no, we are officers in His Imperial Majesty's Navy. The Lady Numerial's safe return was us—that was us!"

"Your name or the cripple's life." Captain Nightspear raised a finger. The flared muzzles of the leftmost walker's batteries glowed pink.

"Larn, James Larn, Sub-lieutenant, Imperial Navy Reserve. My superior Lieutenant Commander Estoc Wojminek, sir."

Captain Nightspear's finger curled and he lowered his arm. The warming batteries over his left shoulder cooled. "Is your commander in pain?"

"More the pain of his lost prosthetics and the Clan Culcassian's transgression aboard our ship. How the blood flowed…"

"Yes…" Captain Nightspear's eyes roved around my face. "Your blood it seems."

"Will you accept our surrender, Captain?"

Captain Nightspear hissed in his own tongue and a walker staggered over to his machine and squatted beside it. "No surrender."

"Then…" I exchanged a bemused glance with Estoc. Captain Nightspear turned his back on us and climbed inside his machine. Both walkers rose to their full height and clomped over to us. Articulated claws unfolded beneath the canopies and jaws opened. "A momentary indignity." I grinned at Estoc and hoisted him up by his armpits.

legs dangling, arm resting on the vice, I winced at the walker's spindly legs working backwards and forwards inches from my elbows. Estoc dangled in a similar manner beneath another walker. "Captain?" I tapped a knuckle on the canopy above my head.

"I do not know what providence shields you, human. But by no right, human or Ynnari, should you have sat at that table, let alone set foot in the domain of Culcassian."

"I made a promise, a promise to return Izuru to her family; a promise I have yet to fulfil."

"The lord and lady together at that table was not enough to satisfy you?"

"Izuru's sons are all that's keeping the marriage together. There's less love between her and her bondmate than our races as a whole. I fear for her safety now, so I do."

"Fear for yourself, human. Let the finger on your right hand serve an everlasting reminder of your meddlesome behaviour."

"And what will Culcassian do to her then? Anything he could do to me will be a thousand times worse for her."

"The Lord Culcassian's property is his to manage."

"Is that what she is to him?" I wormed at the vice around my waist. "To you?!"

"The Lord Culcassian is a widely-respected master of trade with a mercantile family dating back generations. Coin is in his family's blood. How he disciplines his bondmate is his business."

"He'll kill her."

"And how does any of this concern a human?"

"Ten years ago, I helped rescue her sons from a kidnapper."

"Ten human years to us is nothing—nothing."

"You're not listening! Culcassian will kill Izuru now I'm out of the way. He's got his heirs—his dynasty!" The jaws began to tighten. Pressure built up on my ribs. "I NEED TO SEE HER!"

"A little silence from you," Captain Nightspear murmured. Forehead burning, my head lolled and my jaw slackened.

---

Culcassian Flagship Arathino, Ynnari Fleet

Steam blasted across a vast cavern, layered floor to ceiling in gold, gaping in the cruiser's belly. Sung from the bare wraithbone, stacking shelves climbing up the walls held empty fighter berths. Uncoiled pipes snaked down from them to fuel ports embedded in sunken ports on the deck. Propped up on splayed landing skids, a lone starship occupied the deck space. The single wing, shaped like a crescent moon, reached from one side of the hangar to the other. Bright pink light filled the six exhausts. The incoming Zurvan fell beneath the starship's shadow and touched down beside a landing skid. Four Household Guard climbed from the open cockpit. The last to disembark, Ellorias Culcassian waved offered hands aside and dropped to the deck.

"Any wounded—" Ellorias coughed in to his hand and raised his voice above the din of the flying wing's engines. "Any wounded among you will report to the Healing Houses." Ellorias's glare crawled across the four remaining members of his guard; their armour rent and stained with blood crystals. Two were without weapons and two had lost their helmets. "Once you are fit, exchange unserviceable armour and equipment for replacements. We suffered a crushing blow this day at the hand of an unknown enemy. Yet the House Culcassian lives and breathes on your shoulders. Collect yourself and stand ready."

"Lord Culcassian." The sole unwounded warrior among the survivors, raised his arm and aimed an outstretched finger at the flying wing's underbelly. Ellorias's eyes fixed on two little figures clambering around the open hatches that covered the retracted skid.

"Thank you, Aneirin. The rest of you, fall out." Ellorias beckoned Aneirin to his ear. "Find out who mans the AmureKerun's bridge and end the tests."

"At once, Lord Culcassian."

"And fetch my majordomo!"

"At once, Lord Culcassian!" Aneirin scurried away across the shadowed deck.

And where is the productivity in this, sons-of-mine? Ellorias folded his arms spread his feet. A Jokaero swings from a branch because its knees are weak. We stand proud and tall, our feet firmly where the gods intend them to be.

Grinning faces and waving hands cut through the steam venting from the AmureKerun. Father! It's Father.

Look at us, Father! Ilic hung upside down over the hangar floor, his legs hooked around the open hatch.

Present yourselves before your father. The little pair – both in black, belted, knee-length robes and grey trousers – swung from the open hatches and shimmied down the skid. Black grime coated their bare soles. The glow from the Amure Kerun's engines dimmed and the roar gradually rescinded. Ilic, a little above Korsarro, let go of the skid and dropped to the deck. His feet smacked the wraithbone and his knees buckled and he tipped on to his backside. Korsarro giggled and shimmied the last few feet before letting go.

"Ahh… ow." Ilic cupped his hands over his right knee.

"Your knee hurts because you rushed. You rushed to win a race you did not need to run in."

"But you taught us to win at everything, Father." Korsarro, his little hand rubbing his shoulder, shuffled over.

"Compete as one with everything and everyone outside the family, and together, in your adult life, you will be unstoppable. These forays in to high places are to stop, or you will be nursing more than just twisted knees and strained shoulders." Ellorias's knees met the deck and he scooped Ilic on to his shoulders.

"Ooh, a new ship!" Korsarro's arm shot out. "Show us our new ship, Father!"

"Adults-only, my sons. When you are older, I may let you sit in it."

"Now! Now!"

"You would not even be able to see over the instrument panel, Korsarro. It will be very boring."

Ilic twisted his neck. "It looks human—is it human, Father?"

"I would never soil our decks with such crude machinery, Ilic. It is nothing of the sort—come." Ellorias took Korsarro's hand and led him beneath the silent Amure Kerun. Ilic bobbed on Ellorias's shoulders. "When you return to your nurse, you will look her in the eye – both of you – and say you are sorry for running away. Do you understand your father?"

"Yes, Father," Korsarro mumbled.

"Ilic?"

"Mm…"

"Ilic…" Ellorias growled. Clear of the Amure Kerun's shadow, Ellorias walked Ilic and Korsarro over to a tall iris portal at the back of the hangar. Entwined serpents snaked around the portal's edges. From the undisturbed energy blinked a faceless being clad head to foot in grey robes. Ripples spread outwards behind him. A crescent moon-shaped headdress rode atop his hooded crown. Hands tucked inside his sleeves, the being dipped his head.

"Your lordship. Arathino sheds tears of joy at your safe return."

"May you shed your veil, Valann? Your lord addresses you."

"Your lordship, Arathino's company remains in mourning, as do all ships' companies." Valann bowed again.

"Morning?" Korsarro chimed in. "Morning is before lunch, so we are in afternoon now."

"Yes, young master," Valann said.

"And with that…" Ellorias squatted and let Korsarro down. "You will now run along to your nurse and apologise for your absences. Remember my words, my sons."

"Yes, Father." Korsarro, his little hand on his knee, wandered over to the portal and blinked through.

Ilic, blue light bathing him, looked back at Ellorias and said, "you smell of Mother." He then blinked away. Valann bowed. Ellorias's spine straightened and a twitch played in his cheek.

"Yes, mourning, of course." Ellorias's head snapped around and his eyes lasered a pilot in a black bodysuit hovering just inside the shadow cast by the Amure Kerun's bridge. The pilot scurried over and bowed. "Conduct no tests without first sanitising the immediate surroundings. Your lordship's heirs' lives were under threat. Excuse yourself from Arathino without delay."

"My lord, the shields are shorting—"

"—Do not speak." Ellorias turned his back on the pilot and raised a finger. "Actually, fall out, draw arms and armour and consolidate with my household guard." The pilot bowed, sidestepped around Ellorias and backed away in to the portal. "We find ourselves a little short of swords." Ellorias smiled icily at Valann and tugged off his gloves. "Some good news?"

"A congratulations, my lord."

"Oh, not commiserations?"

"The Lady Culcassia—"

"—Come!" Ellorias clasped Valann's shoulder and steered him towards the portal. "Good news, Valann," Ellorias murmured. "Good. News."

"Yes, my lord."

Baying beasts lined with gold clutched at the feet of nine portals occupying a gate-room just beyond the hangar. Ellorias and Valann headed up a flight of stairs to the portal furthest away and blinked through to Ellorias's office. A gnalwood desk, hewn in the shape of a crescent moon, stood beneath a roof of stars, smeared with green, blue, and yellow. "Serpent's Blood. Pour one for yourself too." Ellorias tossed his gloves on the polished tabletop.

"My gratitude, my lord." Valann drifted over to a fat cabinet hewn from gnalwood also and laid his thumb on a sensor. Shelves lined with bottles unfolded.

"Oh, you can show your face in here." Ellorias sunk in to a highbacked chair and tapped in a code on a set of unmarked keys on the underside of the desk. "There, privacy filters are now in place."

"My lord…" Valann bore two silver glasses over to the desk. A long-bridged nose stood out from a grey face marked with deep lines.

"Straight up?" Ellorias took one of the glasses and sniffed. "Mm, a little overripe."

"Yes, my lord."

"You know, when I ask for good news, I expect it given." Ellorias tipped the glass back and downed the Serpent's Blood in one.

"You are the good news, my lord. We observed you overdue your return from Lirithion by a matter of cycles; full cycles."

"Complications, Valann, which were dealt with in a suitably Culcassian manner. The matter of my bondmate's return remains a very private discussion, the likes of which are not suitable for young ears."

"My lord." Valann set his untouched glass down. "The Lady Culcassia's homecoming heralded her ascension."

Ellorias turned his glass around in his hand and glared over the rim at Valann. "Drink."

"Yes, my lord." A shaky hand brought the crystal rim to thin, grey lips. "Ahh, beg pardon. I have no stomach for such a fine beverage."

"Your constitution is in no doubt. Your loyalty to this house though…"

"My Lord Culcassian!" Valann collapsed to the floor and spread his arms. Ellorias leaned across the desk, gripped the Serpent's Blood bottle, and poured himself a second. A blue square glinted in the display embedded in the desk and a soft bleeping played.

"…Is in no doubt." Ellorias swirled the pink liquid. "Inform the caller that his lordship is unavailable."

"Your command, my lord." Valann gathered his robes and straightened his headdress.

"Not here, take it in the ante-chamber."

"Yes, my lord." Valann backed away three paces, spun, and departed the office.

Ascension. Ellorias threw back the Serpent's Blood. As a carcass ascends to the meathook. The crystal clacked on the desk. Beside it, the blue light glowed. The ante-chamber. Ellorias jabbed the sensor beside it. "Valann, I am not to be disturbed."

"Forgive me, my lord. She awaits your reply."

She? Ellorias swung upright. A tingle played along his fingertips. Groans arose from his gut. "Forward to my office then excuse yourself."

"Yes, my lord."

Ellorias rose, planted his fingertips on the desk, and spread them. From deep within the bright nebulae a figure cloaked and veiled in black glided towards Ellorias. Long fingers slipped from wide sleeves and swept the veil aside.

"Grand Navigator…" A smile crept across Ellorias's face. "Do you wish to discuss the coming day of Tesstrassa?"

"Sindra?" A slightly ruddy-faced Khera Khuceen held her hands behind her back. "My we discuss the day of Sindra instead?"

"Today? Of course." Ellorias reached for the Serpent's Blood. Your skin tone betrays the bottle. But what has driven you to drink so?

"From me and the Prophet's navigator cadre, we wish to congratulate you on your bondmate's ascension to the seat of Ulthwé." Khera made the sign of the Ynnari above her breast. "May she sit well among the Grand Crelirun. I am sure this is a good sign for the House Culcassian in the coming days."

Ellorias clenched a shaking hand behind his back and eyed Khera over the rim of his glass. "We will accomplish what we set out to achieve, my bondmate's current political appointment notwithstanding. Every being present at my table will jump to follow my decree or face executive measures, and I assure you a surplus of meathooks are readily honed to hang those in opposition to the new regime. The House Culcassian will mark those naysayers—the less than cooperative—in the future and see them swing. It is your choice whether you wish to back me on the day of Tesstrassa or oppose me on Sindra." The corner of Ellorias's mouth stretched. "I have no wish for the thugs in my household guard to take too much of an interest in you or your daughter."

The ruddiness vanished from Khera's cheeks. "Your house's influence rises and you threaten me…? Threaten my daughter?"

"This will be a Culcassian-led operation. Disloyal tongues will be severed and inebriates strangled. I needn't dangle that choice before you, Grand Navigator. Do not let a petty matter sway you in the wrong direction."

"Perhaps it is your loyalty the Grand Crelirun may take an interest in."

"And what ground have you to stand on? Power and influence shower my bondmate. This sends my heart to the stars."

"Then why did she not tell you herself?" Khera's figure faded in to the nebulae.

Switching sides on the eve of the first act? I will lay the traitor's brand on your skin myself. Ellorias punched at his desk's comm. "Valann, answer!"

"Yes, my lord."

"Recall the Amure Kerun's pilot and hail Ynnead's Dream. The Lord Culcassian's household humbly requests permission to board."

"Very good, my lord."

Ellorias brought his tight fist to his lips. Now it is a race, one I certainly do need to run in. One last swig of the Serpent's Blood searing his throat, Ellorias blinked from his office leaving the bottle unstoppered and the cabinet wide open.