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“You　have　led　us　into　a　dead　end；　First　Acolyte；”　barked　Kol　Badar。
“She　is　there；”　said　Marduk；　staring　resolutely　towards　the　sealed　bulkhead　door。
Only　Elimkhar　was　still　moving　down　the　long　corridor；　walking　steadily　backwards；　his　combibolter
firing　almost　constantly。　The　corridor　was　filling　with　the　xenos　dead；　but　still　more　of　the
creatures　were　surging　forwards；　throwing　themselves　uncaring　into　the　deadly　fire。
“Brother　Elimkhar；　keep　moving；　we　need　your　chain…fist；”　ordered　Kol　Badar；　urging　the
Anointed　warrior　to　hurry。　“Brother　Akkar；　be　ready　to　clear　the　corridor。”
102
Brother　Akkar　nodded　his　acknowledgement　of　the　order；　and　stepped　towards　the　corridor；　the
heavy　barrels　of　his　reaper　autocannon　extending　forwards　beneath　his　arm。
Abruptly；　Brother　Elimkhar’s　weapon　jammed；　and　he　stared　down　at　the　suddenly　silent；
overheated　bolter。
“Move！”　roared　Kol　Badar；　but　the　strength　and　speed　of　the　xenos　creatures　was　staggering；
and　the　Anointed　disappeared　as　a　wave　of　enemies　smashed　over　him；　claws　stabbing　and　rending。
He　was　dead　in　an　instant；　and　Kol　Badar　swore　again。
The　reaper　autocannnon　of　the　Anointed　warrior　brother；　Akkar；　roared　into　life；　the　flame　of　the
mighty　weapon’s　muzzle　flash　lighting　up　the　dark　room　as　if　it　were　daylight。　Hundreds　of　shell
casings　poured　from　the　heavy　weapon　as　it　unleashed　its　full　power；　and　a　constant　stream　of　high
calibre　rounds　ripped　up　the　length　of　the　corridor；　shredding　everything　that　they　struck。
Scores　of　the　aliens　were　ripped　apart　as　the　shells　tore　through　them；　the　high…pitched　screams
of　the　dying　aliens　all　but　lost　beneath　the　roaring　of　the　autocannon’s　twin　barrels。
“We　must　go　back；”　shouted　Kol　Badar　over　the　roar　of　the　heavy　weapon。　“There　is　no　way
through　here。”
“She　is　in　there；　I　know　it；”　said　Marduk　hotly。　“There　is　no　going　back。”
“How　do　you　propose　to　get　through　that？”　snapped　Kol　Badar；　gesturing　with　one　of　his
powered　talons　towards　the　bulkhead。
Marduk　stared　at　the　door　for　a　moment。
“Darioq…Grendh’al；”　he　ordered。　“Open　it。”
“As　you　wish；　Marduk；　First　Acolyte　of　the　Word　Bearers　Legion　of　Astartes；　genetic
descendant　of　the　glorified　Primarch　Lorgar；”　said　the　hulking　figure　of　the　magos；　stepping
forwards；　his　four　mechanical　servo　arms　unfolding　from　his　back。
103
CHAPTER　TWELVE
Solon　Marcabus　trudged　through　the　blinding　snowstorm；　leaning　into　the　relentless　winds　that
threatened　to　knock　him　to　the　ground　with　every　gust。　He　stumbled　as　he　stepped　into　a　small　drift；
sinking　up　to　his　knees。　It　took　all　his　effort　to　haul　himself　out；　and　he　lay　on　his　back　for　a
moment；　catching　his　breath。
His　eyelids　flickered　and　closed　as　his　breathing　steadied。　It　would　be　so　easy　just　to　drift　away；
to　give　in　to　exhaustion。　He　knew　that　to　fall　asleep　out　here　unprotected　was　to　die；　but　he　almost
didn’t　care　anymore。　He　would　just　close　his　eyes　for　a　few　minutes。
It　had　been　almost　a　full　day　since　they　had　left　the　dead　husk　of　the　crawler　behind。　It　had　not
been　an　easy　decision　to　try　to　make　the　starport　on　foot；　for　their　chance　of　success　was　minimal；
but　it　was　better　than　waiting　for　what　the　boy　called　ghosts　return。　He　was　jolted　from　his　microsleep
as　he　felt　a　hand　on　his　shoulder；　shaking　him；　and　he　looked　up　at　the　boy；　Dios；　who　was
kneeling　over　him。　Through　the　circular　goggles　set　into　the　boy’s　oversized　exposure　suit　hood；　he
saw　the　concern　in　Dios’s　eyes。
The　boy’s　face　was　an　unhealthy　blue；　and　his　eyes　gleamed　feverishly。　Solon　was　impressed
with　the　boy’s　stamina；　and　he　realised　that　if　he　succumbed　to　the　lure　of　sleep；　he　would　not　only
be　condemning　himself　to　death；　out　here；　lost　in　the　wilderness　of　swirling　snow；　the　boy　would　not
last　a　day。
Nodding　to　the　boy；　Solon　pushed　himself　painfully　to　his　feet　and　continued　to　trudge　on。　Dios
followed　in　his　wake；　walking　through　the　furrow　that　Solon’s　feet　made；　one　hand　holding　onto
Solon’s　belt。
The　boy’s　determination　was　driving　Solon　on；　and　he　drew　strength　from　Dios’s　indefatigable
will　to　live。　He　gritted　his　teeth　and　cursed　his　momentary　weakness。　He　knew　that　if　the　boy　had
not　been　with　him；　he　would　not　have　woken。　He　would　have　died　out　here　but　for　the　strength　of　a
boy　no　more　than　ten　years　of　age。　Perhaps　his　body　would　have　been　buried　beneath　the　snow；
entombed　within　the　ice　of　Perdus　Skylla。　Perhaps　in　a　thousand　years；　erosion　and　wind　may　have
exposed　his　preserved　corpse；　and　someone　would　have　wondered　what　had　become　of　him。　Why
had　this　man　been　wandering　the　wastes；　they　might　have　asked。
Pushing　such　morbid　thoughts　from　his　mind；　Solon　concentrated　on　keeping　moving；　each
painful　step　a　challenge；　but　also　a　minor　victory。　Just　keep　moving；　he　told　himself；　and　he　repeated
the　phrase　under　his　breath；　like　a　mantra；　just　keep　moving。　One　step　at　a　time。
Solon　had　no　idea　how　long　he　had　been　walking　when　he　realised　that　there　was　no　longer　a
small　hand　grasping　his　belt。　He　turned　around　as　quickly　as　the　bulky　exposure　suit　allowed　him。
Dios　was　no　longer　walking　in　his　footsteps。　The　boy　was　nowhere　in　sight。
Cursing　himself；　Solon　turned　around　in　every　direction；　eyes　straining　to　pierce　the　whitewash
of　billowing　snow　and　fog　all　around　him；　desperately　trying　to　sight　the　boy。　He　saw　nothing。
Throwing　his　fatigue　off；　Solon　began　to　backtrack；　following　the　path　he　had　cleared　through
the　snow。　It　was　not　hard　to　follow；　though　the　falling　snow　was　already　beginning　to　fill　in　his
footsteps。　In　an　hour；　they　would　be　gone。
He　hurried　back　along　his　path；　jogging　heavily　through　the　snow；　stumbling　several　times；　but
pushing　himself　back　to　his　feet；　his　fear　for　the　boy’s　safety　allowing　him　to　plumb　reserves　of
strength　that　he　didn’t　know　he　had。
He　had　failed　the　boy；　just　as　he　had　failed　his　son。
104
Despair　lent　him　strength；　and　he　pushed　on；　slogging　through　the　mire　of　snow　and　ice；
desperately　squinting　through　the　blinding　blizzard。
At　last；　he　saw　a　small；　dark　shape　slumped　in　the　snow；　and　he　broke　into　a　run　as　he　drew
towards　it。　It　was　covered　in　a　light　dusting　of　snow；　and　Solon　prayed　that　he　was　not　too　late。
“You　can’t　be　dead；”　said　Solon　desperately；　and　drawing　near；　he　dropped　to　his　knees　before
the　figure　of　the　boy。　Rolling　Dios　over　onto　his　front；　he　looked　down　into　eyes　that　were　half　open
and　unfocused。　Dark　circles　surrounded　the　boy’s　eyes；　and　his　flesh　was　a　sickly　blue　colour。
“No；　no；　no；　no；　no；”　said　Solon；　feeling　panicked　and　desperate。
He　quickly　erected　his　survival　tent；　pulling　it　loose　from　his　thigh…pocket　and　unravelling　it
before　turning　it　into　the　wind；　which　expanded　it　like　a　balloon。　He　dragged　Dios’s　lifeless　body
into　the　cramped　interior　and　ran　a　finger　down　the　tent…flap；　sealing　it；　before　ripping　loose　the
seals　of　the　boy’s　hood；　pulling　it　down　away　from　his　face。
Tearing　his　own　suit　away　from　his　upper　body；　Solon　pressed　his　fingers　to　the　boy’s　throat。
There　was　a　pulse　there；　though　it　was　weak　and　irregular；　and　he　groaned　in　relief。　Solon　pulled　off
the　insulating　inner　gloves　from　Dios’s　hands；　and　pulled　off　his　own　gloves　with　his　teeth。
Ignoring　the　throbbing　pain　as　feeling　began　to　return　to　his　fingers；　Solon　began　rubbing
warmth　into　Dios’s　hands。　Blood　was　not　circulating　properly　and　the　boy’s　fingertips　were　icy　to
the　touch。
For　an　hour；　Solon　rubbed　life　back　into　the　boy’s　hands　and　feet；　until　colour　had　returned　to
the　digits；　and　his　breathing　had　become　steady。　The　temperature　in　the　tent　had　risen　sharply　from
their　body…heat；　and　condensation　had　formed　on　its　translucent　walls。
Solon　had　set　up　his　water　distiller；　and　the　trickle　of　purified　water　was　now　constant。　He　had
filled　both　his　water　flasks；　and　the　taste　of　the　cold；　fresh　water　on　his　tongue　was　like　divine
nectar。　He　had　dribbled　water　into　Dios’s　mouth；　and　had　felt　his　spirits　soar　as　the　boy　swallowed
greedily。
At　last；　the　boy　had　woken；　and　smiled　weakly　at　Solon。　Finally　satisfied　that　the　boy　was　out　of
immediate　danger；　Solon　had　allowed　himself　to　fall　into　an　exhausted　slumber；　as　the　wind　ba