‘And is there enough, amongst your cattle and your slaves?’

Elias scowled, unused to being questioned by his disciples in such a manner.

‘What concern has that ever been of yours, Narek? You are a soldier, are you not? A warrior-zealot, devoted to the Word. Iam the Word in this place, so your fealty is to me. Is it not?’

The mood had soured quickly, Elias brought down from his euphoria to the canker of mistrust and doubt.

‘I serve you as always, Dark Apostle.’ Wisely, Narek bowed.

A small dark bowl at the back of the canvas chamber was put there for Elias’s ablutions after spilling sacrificial blood. He went over to it now and began cleansing his hands so that he could begin the next octed circle unsullied by the previous one.

He didn’t have an accurate count, but Narek estimated several hundred mortals awaiting slaughter in the pens. Hemmed in by sharp stakes and spools of razor-wire, they reminded the huntsman of wide-eyed swine fearful of the culling to come.

‘Pure, it must be pure, Narek,’ Elias muttered, his back to the huntsman. ‘Now,’ he added, fastidiously cleaning his fingertips, fingers, palms and knuckles, ‘I would see the weapon.’

Shaking off his hands, drying them on a cloth, Elias turned with hands open and ready to receive.

Narek gave a second’s pause, not so much to make the Dark Apostle concerned but enough to realise he resented giving up the spear. Fluidly, he drew it from his scabbard and watched Elias’s eyes widen at the sight of it.

‘Godlike,’ he breathed – that word again– ‘you were not exaggerating.’

Narek placed it reverently in Elias’s hands, where he could examine it more closely.

‘So this is what they withdrew from the ruins?’ He exhaled, his craving for the power contained within this shard self-evident. ‘I can sense its strength.’

‘It is divine…’ murmured Narek, briefly forgetting where he was and who he was with.

Elias looked up sharply. ‘The Pantheonis divine – this is but a means through which to manifest their beneficence. I must profane it, curb its strength to my own ends.’

‘ Yourends?’ asked Narek when Elias had returned his gaze to the spear again.

‘Indeed.’

So, that was it. The Dark Apostle meant to try and yoke the spear’s captured power for himself, either as a way to enhance his standing with Lord Erebus or perhaps even to usurp him. Elias wascertainly ambitious, but that was bold even for him.

‘Are you intending to harness it then?’ Narek asked, choosing to leave his suspicions unspoken.

Elias regarded him sternly again.

‘You are… overcurious, Narek.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Is something amiss?’

‘I…’ Narek began. ‘It isdivine, this thing.’ He gestured to the spear, eyes drawn to its fulgurant glow which even now threw back the shadows inside the tent. ‘Does it not make you…’

Elias had not lowered his gaze, and listened intently to his huntsman.

‘Make me what, Narek?’

‘ Question.’ He barely whispered it, for fear that to speak it aloud was part of some blasphemy.

‘You have doubts?’

‘I am merely seeing what is in front of my eyes. Here, in your hands, lies a piece of the Emperor’s will. It is lightning, cast from His fingertips and forged into a weapon.’

Elias was nodding. ‘Indeed it is a weapon, one I mean to wield. I see now that was Lord Erebus’s plan for us all along.’

‘When we raised those cathedrals to His honour and glory, all the years we spent extolling His holy church and divine right to rule mankind, did you think we served the needs of a false prophet?’ Narek asked. ‘I am talking about faith, Elias.’

‘ Hehas denied it, denied our worship and faith. Hespits on us, and in so doing are the truegods of the universe revealed unto us. And your words border dangerously close to sedition, not revelation.’

‘The revelation is before us, brother. The Gal Vorbak, they are men no longer–’

‘They ascend!’

‘No! They merely harbour sustenance for the monsters dwelling within and wearing their flesh.’

‘I would welcome such a union, to be so blessed. This here,’ he brandished the spear like he was considering stabbing it into Narek’s heart, ‘is my path to that glory.’

‘I see only damnation, but I am bound to it, as are you. And don’t threaten me with sedition. Your words smack more thickly of betrayal than mine.’

Elias, realising he had revealed too much of his ambition, backed down.

‘It is… a suggestion, nothing more than that.’

‘To do what, exactly?’

‘Elevate us, you and I, Narek,’ he said, his voice low enough to be mistaken for a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Erebus spoke of it. Weapons to win the war. This is clearly what he meant, and it obviously has power. I merely need to harness it.’

‘You can do that?’

Elias mistook Narek’s incredulity for eagerness.

‘Yes, brother,’ he hissed. ‘You will be restored, better than you were before. I…’ He smiled a viper’s smile. ‘I will have what I’ve always sought, a patron in the Pantheon.’

Smile widening into a feral grin, he waited for Narek to see this vision as he did.

He was to be disappointed.

‘You invite destruction upon yourself, Elias.’

And like the viper that is suddenly threatened and prepares to fight back, Elias recoiled. ‘Remember the debt you owe to me, Narek,’ he warned, appealing to the huntsman’s sense of honour.

‘Like I say, I am bound to this fate as I am bound to you. Do not worry, I have no urge to enhance my own standing. I merely wish to fight and die in this war. But by turning a blind eye, my debt is paid in full. Are we in agreement?’ Narek held out his hand for Elias to take it.

Instead, the Dark Apostle merely nodded.

‘Good,’ said Narek. ‘Once this is done, you and I will part company, our alliance ended.’

‘Agreed,’ said Elias, ‘which leaves from now until then.’

‘The shattered legionaries have amassed to disrupt our plans here. The human with them is very likely dead, shot by Dagon’s deflected bullet, so they’ll be coming, one way or another.’

‘You need men?’ asked Elias.

‘All hand-picked by me. No hoods.’ He referred to the cultists. ‘Legion only. Seven will suffice.’

‘Including yourself, an auspicious number.’

‘Not really. I need twenty others, two more squads. Whoever you can spare from the rituals. That’s how many I will need to stop them. And by stop them, I mean kill every one of our enemies.’

Elias smirked at him, as if amused by his soldier’s rhetoric, and turned away dismissively.

‘Take what you need from the ranks, including your seven. Get it done.’

‘This is my last hunt, Elias,’ Narek warned.

‘I really think it might be, brother,’ Elias replied, but when he turned around he was alone.

Narek had gone.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ritual

The white-tiled floor was steadily turning to grey with the accreted grime of neglect. It was also covered in blood. They had moved him from the factory to an infirmary. Presumably, it had been used to tend the injuries of machine workers sustained through accident or misadventure. It was a modest size, and modestly stocked. A work bench served as an operating table. The drug cabinet had been raided, but there were bandages and gauze left behind.

Shen’ra was using them to try and staunch the bleeding.

The man, Grammaticus, if that identity was to be believed, had fared poorly during the rapid relocation to this secondary hideout. Despite Leodrakk’s protestations and even Domadus’s murmured counsel that to put him out of his misery was not only the logical thing to do but also the most humane, Numeon had insisted Grammaticus be taken with them.

Helon, Uzak and Shaka had come as well. Their bodies, anyway.

Leodrakk would not leave them, nor would Avus, who had shouldered the burden of his Legion brother all the way from the printing house. The Raven Guard had refused all offers of help, even from Hriak, who was a distant figure to Avus, anyway. Helon and Uzak had many volunteers to bear them and were dragged hurriedly between two of the fire-born.