Fear And Fire Part 14

'Honoured Canoness, this is Sister Miriya. The Celestian spoke into her vox. 'I have bestowed the Emperor's justice upon Baron Sherring.

'I understand. Galatea's voice crackled through her ear bead. We are delayed. A pocket of the turn-coat Guard has decided to make a stand in the gla.s.shouses. Secure the mansion and find Vaun.

'Your will. Miriya cut the communication and glanced at Verity. The Hospitaller was bent over the burnt remains of the psyker and poor Iona. 'Stand away. the Celestian snapped, suddenly angered by the woman's lack of respect for the dead.

Verity did not obey, and instead crouched close to the blackened skull of Ignis. There is something here.'

'It is not your place to interfere with the departed-' began Ca.s.sandra, but Miriya waved her to silence and crossed the chamber, laying a heavy hand on verity's shoulder.

'Desist'

'I do no dishonour to Iona. retorted the Hospitaller. 'I imagine each of you owes her a debt from her time in your squad. Know then that she saved my life today as well. It is the witch that interests me. She used a sty-lus to point at something in among the bones and charred meat of the dead man. 'Look here. Do you see?'

Miriya studied the object. It was a pewter half-orb, as small as a tikkerbird egg, fused to the curve of Ignis's skull. Wires as thin as human hairs spooled out from it along the inside of the bone. 'A bionic implant? I've never seen the like. She ran a finger behind her right ear, touching the place where the device had been rooted in the psyker's body.

'Curious. said Verity. The bone has partly covered the metal. This was grafted to him several years ago. It appears to be Imperial technology, not xenos or traitor-made. As to the purpose, I cannot fathom it.

'Perhaps some device to conjure his witch-fire?' Por-tia made a disgusted face.

Very advanced. added the Hospitaller, and she looked up at Miriya. 'Far beyond the ac.u.men of a thug like Vaun.

A silent communication went between them, the recollection of the shadowy a.s.sa.s.sin in the Noroc librarium.

At the broken windows, Isabel reacted with a start. 'Listen. Do you hear that?'

'Just sh.e.l.ling-' began Ca.s.sandra.

'No. Rotors!' Isabel pointed as a silhouette moved over the gla.s.s. There!'

The wind changed then all the women heard it, the thrumming chop of propeller blades slicing through the thick air. Miriya sprinted to the win-dows in time to see the sleek bullet-shape of Sherring's gaudy aeronef pa.s.sing over the mansion. The prow of the airs.h.i.+p dipped and then rose, angling away from them.

'It's him,' spat the Celestian, and she threw herself out of the oval of shattered gla.s.s, landing heavily in the torn gardens below. The flyer cast a dark pool of shadow beneath it, and Miriya ran to keep below it. Her training took over from her conscious mind, compartmentalising the pain from her injuries and the adrenaline rush in her bloodstream. Her vision caught on a trailing tether dragging down the orna-mental steps where it hung from the aeronefs underside. With every pa.s.sing second the cable was drawing shorter as the craftgained height.

Ignoring the gunfire that lanced past her, Miriya leapt at the tether and caught it in the grip of her armoured gauntlets. No sooner had she done so than the aeronefs props pitched up in tone and the airs.h.i.+p pushed away at great speed. Suddenly, the Battle Sister was hanging suspended beneath the vessel as the mansion grounds flashed by beneath her feet. With dogged and relentless determination, Miriya pulled herself up, hand over hand, towards the pa.s.senger cupola beneath the gas envelope.

'Is this the best speed you can muster from this craft?' demanded Vaun, menacing the adept. 'It's supposed to be a racer.

With visible effort, the tech-priest found his voice. The weight distribution is in error.'

Vaun prodded him with a finger. 'Perhaps I should lighten the load, then? I'll start with your corpse.

'No,' screeched the adept. The correct prayers must be offered to the machine-soul. I will com-pensate.

'Bah!' The psyker shoved him back at the console and turned away, steadying himself on the listing deck as the priest mumbled and made symbols in the air over the navigational console. 'Get us some more alt.i.tude, at least. I don't want to be in range of those Exorcist tanks.

The front quarter of the aeronef s cupola was made from a skeleton of girders and a cowl of trans-parent gla.s.steel, so that the late baron and his cronies could view the landscape below the aerial yacht. Now all that lay beneath the flyer was streets choked with dead or dying, burning buildings and the debris of a murdered city.

A fitting epitaph for a braggart and a fool like Sherring, considered the psyker. He was sure that the baron, with his overblown sense of grandeur, would have enjoyed the idea that his precious Metis would not endure without him. Playing Sherring had been easy. Like every one of these idiot n.o.bles, he had thought that his little world, his tiny games of empire, were the only things that were of any import. It mattered nothing to the rich men of Neva that on other planets there were creatures of such alien nature that they would devour whole worlds, or that there were places where the raw stuff of Chaos itself came to life. The universe began and ended at the edge of the Nevan solar system, and they cared nothing for the greater galaxy beyond, as long as it didn't interfere with them and their asi-nine festivals.

Vaun thought differently. It was ironic, really. There was only one other man he knew who was native-born to this pretentious and grandiose planet, but who saw the wider view as he did, and Torris Vaun hated Viktor LaHayn with every fibre of his being.

It was that hate that had first brought Sherring into the psyker's...o...b..t. Vaun had seen the avaricious desire in the baron's eyes, the need for power in the man that overwhelmed everything else. Vaun had aided the baron in strengthening his position and in turn Sherring had helped Vaun break the chains that bound him to the deacon. But while the n.o.ble-man had craved position and t.i.tle, Vaun played -and was still playing - a far longer game. And now, at last, after Vaun had been forced to spend years on the run here and in deep s.p.a.ce, the loathsome prig had finally made good on his promises.

'And for that, I pay you in immortality. whispered the psyker, catching sight of a hobbled statue of the baron as the aeronef pa.s.sed over the city. 'No one on Neva will ever forget the name of Holt Sherring. he told the effigy. 'You'll go down in history as a trai-tor and a fool. Vaun spat at the statue and turned away, his resentment kindling.

The data-slate was there in his pocket, heavy with the price he had paid to get it. Oh, of course he had never intended to keep those wastrels Abb and Suki around. Had they survived, he would have just found another way for them to serve as fodder for the cannon. After all, their talents were hard to con-trol and unpredictable. Vaun had only recruited them because they were all he could find.

But the boy... That made him angry. Ignis was a sharp lad, and he had real potential. Vaun had seen in him someone worthy to be his protege, a psyker with ability, but nicely untroubled by such clutter as ethics or morality. It annoyed him to have to lose so promising a tool before he could bring its potential to bear.

With a snort, he dismissed the thought. At the keep he'd find all the raw material he needed to start afresh, and then maybe he would blow Neva apart, just like the lad had wanted.

A creaking noise in the deck plates drew his eyes from the window and set the killer's nerves on edge.

They were not alone. Vaun spun, calling fire to him.

A shape in black armour and red robes threw itself into the cupola from the rearward compartment, cras.h.i.+ng through the hatchway. The psyker's face twisted in a grimace as he recognised the woman.

'You again. he said, with loathing. This is becom-ing tiresome.

'How did she get aboard?' asked the tech-adept, cowering at the helm.

'Be silent. Miriya broke in. 'You'll have time to speak for your crimes soon enough.'Crimes?' bleated the priest. 'He forced me. He killed my brethren.

You should have died with them. That would have shown dedication. Now you are guilty of collusion with a criminal.

Vaun smiled, amused by her. 'Don't be so hard on the poor wretch, Sister. I can be very persuasive, if I've a mind to be.

'Your co-conspirator Baron Sherring is dead. Miriya told him. This vessel is being tracked by units of the Order of our Martyred Lady. You have no way to escape the church's reprisal.

'Oh. sniffed the psyker, his voice taking on an arch tone. 'Perhaps I should bow down and surrender? Yes, should I do that and beg for a swift and merci-ful death?' He gave a derisive snort. You dare not fire that weapon inside this vessel. One misplaced shot could sever a fuel line or puncture the gasbag. You'd kill us all.

You do not understand my devotion to the G.o.d-Emperor, witch. My life counts for nought if you still draw breath. If the price I must pay to have you dead is my own blood, then I do so willingly. She fired, the plasma gun cutting hot light across the cabin.

Vaun threw himself away from the stanchion where he had been standing, the haze of rippling heat from the discharge searing his face. He cried out in pain and threw back a trio of flaming darts. The bolts missed the Sororitas and blew out an ornate windowpane. 'You mad, blinkered b.i.t.c.h,' he swore. 'Stupid little wind-up toy. You have no idea what is really going on here, do you? LaHayn is the worst traitor of them all.

'When I read your crimes to the quill servitors, I will be sure to add defamation to the list. Miriya stroked an indent on the plasma gun's breech and dialled the weapon's emitter nozzle to a narrow beam setting.

Ducking from behind a support pillar, she fired again, slas.h.i.+ng through a tertiary cogitator console.

A sudden thermal made the aeronef lurch to star-board and both the combatants were knocked off balance.

The tech-priest wailed, his voice like a warning siren.

Vaun's next flurry of psi-fire hit home close to the woman, one glancing dart of burning air searing her shoulder plate and carving a scar across the wood panelling behind her. Miriya snarled and fired again. The plasma weapon turned a steel stanchion to hot slag and sent flame licking up to the ceiling of the compartment.

'I should have known better than to expect intelli-gence from a servant of your corrupt religion!' Vaun called out to her from behind cover. 'I may be a thief and a killer, but at least I am true to myself. I don't do the bidding of ancient, crooked clerics!' He gave a harsh, mocking laugh. Tell me, Sister, have you never questioned? Have you always been the same trained mongrel, just a dog on some priest's leash?'

Miriya said nothing, moving carefully towards the sound of his voice. She placed each footfall with absolute care, keeping herself steady as the airs.h.i.+p listed. The walls of the caldera drifted by below them, hazed by the smoke from the burning forest.

'If only you knew what I know. continued Vaun. .If only you could see the horrors that Viktor LaHayn has perpetrated over the years. You think I am a threat to your precious law and order? Ha. My plans are just for money and mayhem. The deacon intends nothing less than the unseating of your G.o.d!' His voice was thick with hate. 'My crimes are a child's compared to his madness.

The Celestian hardened her heart against the psyker's words, forcing herself to put aside her doubts. He was very close now, a few hand spans away, crouched behind a recliner couch in rich grox-blood leather.

Miriya took careful aim.

'I know you don't trust him. You and the nurse-maid both, there's something that gnaws at your thoughts. If you kill me, by the time you understand it will be too late. LaHayn will take the Imperium for himself. I'm the only one who can stop him. That's why he's so desperate to capture me. The psyker seemed to be struggling with the effort of speaking. 'He needs me to complete his plan.

The woman cared nothing for that order now, she would finish this wastrel and weather the ire of the deacon later. 'In the G.o.d-Emperor's name-' Miriya threw herself around the couch and levelled the gun - at nothing. Vaun? Where?'

'Here. From behind her, the hot claws of his burn-ing hand pressed into the flesh of the Batde Sister's neck.

'How...?'

Vaun chuckled. 'It's not just a matter of throwing b.a.l.l.s of fire and the like, Sororitas. Being a witch brings certain other talents to the table. Misdirec-tion, among others. He blinked sweat from his eyes. 'Quite tasking, though.

'Kill me then, if you dare. she growled. 'For my death there will be ten Sisters to take my place.

Contempt dripped from Vaun's words. 'You fool-ish women are so predictable. So desperate to throw your life away in service to the church, you practi-cally beg to be killed. It's what you want, isn't it? To become a tragic martyr like your beloved Saint Katherine, to perish on a heretic's blade and earn your place in the pathetic annals of some forgottenconvent?'

Miriya's gaze remained locked forwards. Ahead of her she could see the adept cowering at the helm, his spidery bra.s.s limbs working the tiller.

The criminal pressed harder. 'Would you like to die now, Sister? Would it a.s.suage the guilt you carry like a millstone about your neck? Far easier to end your life in a futile gesture than to live on in pain, isn't it?'

Vaun,' said the woman, gendy turning her hand to aim her pistol, 'you talk too much. Miriya pulled the trigger and the plasma gun spat flame across the cabin. The gaseous plume melted the helm into runnels of liquid metal and sent the tech-priest screaming away, his robes on fire and his augmetics twisted by the heat surge.

The aeronef s deck pitched hard, throwing the two combatants apart and slamming them into the wall. The Battle Sister tasted blood as her head rebounded off a support girder. She heard Vaun shouting a string of inventive curses and her vision blurred for a second.

When she blinked it clear, Miriya saw the black-ened forest rising up to fill the airs.h.i.+p's windscreen, fire-stripped trees reaching up to s.n.a.t.c.h at the flyer.

Night had fallen by the rime they located the crash site in the woodlands south of Metis. Sister Verity had expected to find a field of wreckage, but Baron Sherring's aeronef was intact for the most part. The elegant bullet shape of the airs.h.i.+p's gas envelope was dirty and discoloured, some of the cells torn open and flaccid. The craft had cut through a burnt copse and landed at a tilt toward its starboard side, exposing the pa.s.senger cupola to the air. The front of the compartment was a mess of broken gla.s.steel and twisted girders.

At her side, Sister Portia consulted an auspex and frowned. The device's machine-ghost speaks of lives still inside, but the glyphs are contradictory.

'Heat from the fires,' said Ca.s.sandra, approaching the downed s.h.i.+p with her bolter held ready. The warmth radiates up from the ground. It confuses the sense-taker.

Verity picked her way through a trail of shredded hull plates and bits of ornate furniture that had been ejected during the landing. Her boots crunched crystal droplets from a chandelier into the ashen earth, and she stepped around a stool detailed in red leather, that had landed intact and incongruous in this black setting.

From the corner of her vision she saw Isabel stoop and recover something from the dirt. The Sister Superior's weapon. She held up the plasma pistol by its barrel. 'If it fell from her grasp...' The unspo-ken words curdled in her throat.

Ca.s.sandra shot her a look. 'Keep searching.

verity saw a flicker of motion among the disorder of wreckage and called out. 'Here. Someone alive!' The other women were at her side in an instant, working together to lift away a metal panel the size of a dining table. It was still warm to the touch, and had they not been wearing gauntlets, their hands would have been scorched raw.

From under the panel emerged a crooked man, almost strangling under the weight of his own robes. Bra.s.sy claw-hands, hooked and spindly where they were half-melted, snapped and clicked. 'h.e.l.lo?' His voice was laden with static, like a poorly tuned vox.

Tech-priest. said Isabel with more than a little disappointment. 'Where are Vaun and Sister Miriya?'

'Thank you. The adept pointed back at the grounded airs.h.i.+p. 'Inside, I believe. Thank you. Believe. He gave a metallic cough and tapped the vocoder implant in his throat. Verity remained a moment to examine him as Ca.s.sandra led the other women on in a steady, weapons-high approach.

She glanced around, taking in the desert of burnt land and skeletal trees, the towering plume of smoke issuing from the caldera-city dark against the night sky. Verity felt leaden and heavy with disgust at the sight. How many thousands had died today in order to punish Baron Sherring's stupidity? The unfettered carnage sickened her, and the Hospitaller found herself entertaining an almost treasonable anger toward the lord deacon. LaHayn had shown callous disregard for the people of Metis, not all of whom were to blame for their city-lord's foolish choices. With effort, she forced the thoughts away.

A sudden commotion near the wreck snapped her back from her reverie. Ca.s.sandra had a man by the scruff of the neck, dragging him out of the cupola. Vaun.

The Sister of Battle applied a vicious kick to the back of the psyker's legs and sent him sprawling to the ground. As Verity gingerly approached, she could see he was badly wounded, his face cross-hatched with new scars caused by flying fragments of gla.s.s. He managed a b.l.o.o.d.y smile.

'Ah. Nursemaid. Kind of you to come and minis-ter to me.

Without a word of command between them, Cas-sandra, Isabel and Portia all pointed their guns at his head.

Vaun blinked. 'Oh. Viktor has changed his mind, then? I'm to die now?'

Verity strained to master her loathing of the man. 'Your execution will be at the lord deacon's plea-sure.

His smile widened. 'Lucky me. How frustrated you must all be, little sisters, to find me alive and your harlotMiriya not. Worse still, that you must keep me so.'

Verity looked at Ca.s.sandra. 'Miriya is dead?'

There was no sign of her body in the aeronef.

Vaun's head bobbed. 'Dead. She fell. So sad.

Skin met skin with a loud smack and before she even realised it, Verity was looking at her hand, at the red mark where she had slapped him.

Real anger flashed in Vaun's eyes.

'Careful,' he said, in a voice low and rich with menace. 'You mustn't damage me further.

To h.e.l.l...' The words were a ragged gasp. To h.e.l.l with that. Verity turned with a start as Miriya approached from the tree line, carrying herself awk-wardly. The Hospitaller instantly recognised the signs of broken ribs, contusions and minor wounds. The Sister Superior marched as best she could into the circle of women, taking her pistol from the hand of a stunned Isabel.

'In Terra's name, how did you survive?' whispered the Battle Sister.

'As the witch said. Miriya nodded at the psyker, making signs over her gun, 'I fell. By the grace of the Golden Throne, I did not die.

Even Vaun was lost for words in that moment, but then Miriya thumbed the activation stud on her plasma weapon and he knew what she was going to do next. 'No, no. he blurted. can't kill me here. On the 'nef, no one would know, but here, these ones will see you. You can't disobey the deacon in front of them.

The deacon be d.a.m.ned. Those words alone were enough to earn Miriya a thousand lashes. 'Die, witch.

'Miriya...' There was a warning in Verity's tone. 'Our orders...'

The Sister Superior didn't seem to hear her. Miriya's entire world had collapsed to the s.p.a.ce between the muzzle of her gun and Vaun's head. 'You are trying to marshal your witchfire, but the pain hobbles you.

You know that I hold your life in my grip, Vaun. How does it feel to be the victim? Can you taste it?'

Then, slowly and inexorably, the psyker's eyes went cold. The deacon be d.a.m.ned. he repeated. 'My own thoughts, Sister. Shall I tell you why? If my death is but a heartbeat away, then let me give you a gift before I go. Let me tell you why Viktor LaHayn deserves d.a.m.nation, more than I, more than any sinner you have ever sent to his grave. Let me do this small thing.

Verity saw Miriya's finger tighten on the trigger -but not enough. As she watched, the Hospitaller heard her own voice rise in the silence.

'Let him speak.