'Do you know why I fought the Warsinger?' asked Eidolon.

my?'

Yes, captain, why,’

'Because that is how the Emperor's Children fight,’

'Explain,’

'Our heroes lead from the front. The rest of the Legion is inspired to follow their example. They can do this because the Legion fights with such artistry that they are not rendered vulnerable by fighting at the fore,’

Eidolon smiled. 'Very good, captain. I should have you instruct the novices. And you yourself, would you lead from the front?'

Sudden hope flared in Tarvitz's breast. 'Of course! Given the chance, I would. I had not thought you considered me worthy of such a role,’

'You are not, Tarvitz. You are a file officer and nothing more,’ said Eidolon, crashing his faint hope that he had been about to be offered a way of proving his mettle as a leader and a hero.

'I say this not as an insult,’ Eidolon continued, apparently oblivious to the insult it clearly was. 'Men like you fulfil an important role in our Legion, but I am one of Fulgrim's chosen. The pri-march chose me and elevated me to the position I now hold. He looked upon me and saw in me the qualities needed to lead the Emperor's Children. He looked upon you, and did not. Because of this, I understand the responsibilities that come with

being Fulgrim's chosen in a way that you cannot, Captain Tarvitz,’

Eidolon led him to a grand staircase that curved downwards into a large hall tiled with white marble. Tarvitz recognised it as one of the entrances to the ship's apothecarion, where the injured from Isstvan Extremis had been brought only a few hours before.

'I think you underestimate me, lord commander,’ said Tarvitz, 'but understand that for the sake of my men I must know-'

'For the sake of our men we all make sacrifices,’ snapped Eidolon. 'For the chosen, those sacrifices are great. Foremost among these is that fact that everything is secondary to victory,’

'Commander, I don't understand,’

'You will,’ said Eidolon, leading him through a gilded archway and into the central apothecarion.

'THE BOOK?' ASKED Torgaddon.

The book,’ repeated Loken. 'It's the key. Erebus is on the ship, I know it,’

The ashen darkness of Archive Chamber Three was one of the few places left on the Vengeful Spirit where Loken felt at home, remembering many a lively debate with Kyril Sindermann in simpler times. Loken had not seen the iterator for weeks and he fervently hoped that the old man was safe, that he had not fallen foul of Maloghurst or his faceless soldiers.

'Abaddon and the others must be keeping him safe,’ said Torgaddon.

Loken sighed. 'How did it come to this? I would have given my life for Abaddon, Aximand, too, and I know they would have done the same for me,’

'We can't give up on this, Garviel. There will be a way out of this. We can bring the Moumival back together, or at least make sure the Warmaster sees what Erebus is doing,’

Whatever that is,’

Yes, whatever that is. Guest of the lodge or not, he's not welcome on my ship. He's the key. If we find him, we can expose what's going on to the Warmaster and end this,’

'You really believe that?'

'I don't know, but that won't stop me trying,’

Torgaddon looked around him, stirring the ashes of the charred books on the shelves with a finger and said, Why did you have to meet me here? It smells like a funeral pyre,’

'Because no one ever comes here,’ said Loken.

'I can't imagine why, seeing as how pleasant it is,’

'Don't be flippant, Tarik, not now. The Great Crusade was once about bringing illumination to the far corners of the galaxy, but now it is afraid of knowledge. The more we learn, the more we question and the more we question the more we see through the lies perpetrated upon us. To those who want to control us, books are dangerous,’

'Iterator Loken,’ laughed Torgaddon, 'you've enlightened me,’

'I had a good teacher,’ said Loken, again thinking of Kyril Sindermann, and the fact that everything he

had been taught to believe was being shaken to its core. 'And there's more at stake here than a split between Astartes. It's... It's philosophy, ideology, religion even... everything. Kyril taught me that this kind of blind obedience is what led to the Age of Strife. We've crossed the galaxy to bring peace and illumination, but the cause of our downfall could be right here amongst us.'

Torgaddon leaned over and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. 'Listen, we're about to go into battle on Isstvan III and the word from the Death Guard is that the enemy is led by some kind of psychic monsters that can kill with a scream. They're not the enemy because they read the wrong books or anything like that; they're the enemy because the Warmaster tells us they are. Forget about all this for a while. Go and fight. That'll put some perspective on things,’

'Do you even know if we'll be headed down there?'

'The Warmaster's picked the squads for the speartip. We're in it, and it looks as if we'll be in charge, too.'

'Really? After all that's happened?

'I know, but I won't look a gift horse in the mouth,’

At least I'll have the Tenth with me,’

Torgaddon shook his head. 'Not quite. The War-master hasn't chosen the speartip by company. It's squad by squad,’

'Why?'

'Because he thinks that confused look on your face is funny,’

'Please. Be serious, Tarik,’

Torgaddon shrugged. The Warmaster knows what he's doing. It won't be an easy battle. We'll be dropping right on top of the city,’

What about Locasta?'

'You'll have them. I don't think you could have held Vipus back anyway. You know what he's like, he'd have stowed away on a drop-pod if he'd been left out. He's like you, he needs to clear his head with a good dose of fighting. After Isstvan things will get back to normal,’

'Good. I'll feel a lot better with Locasta backing us up,’

'Well, it's true that you need the help,’ smiled Torgaddon.

Loken chuckled, not because Torgaddon was actually funny, but because even after everything he was still the same, a person that he could trust and a friend he could rely on.

You're right, Tarik,’ said Loken. 'After Isstvan everything will be different,’

THE CENTRAL APOTHECARION gleamed with glass and steel, dozens of medical cells branching off from the circular hub of the main laboratory. Tarvitz felt a chill travel the length of his spine as he saw Captain Odovocar's ruined body suspended in a stasis tank, waiting for its gene-seed to be harvested.

Eidolon marched through the hub and down a tiled corridor that led into a gilded vestibule dominated by a huge mosaic depicting Fulgrim's victory at Tarsus, where the primarch had vanquished the deceitful eldar despite his many grievous wounds. Eidolon reached up and pressed one of the enamelled chips that formed Fulgrim's belt, standing back as the mosaic arced upwards, revealing a glowing passageway and winding spiral staircase beyond. Eidolon strode down the passageway, indicating that Tarvitz should follow him.

The lack of ornamentation was a contrast to the rest of the Andronius and Tarvitz saw a cold blue glow emanating from whatever lay below as he made his way down the stairs. As they reached the end of their descent, Eidolon turned to him and said, This, Captain Tarvitz, is your answer.'

The blue light shone from a dozen ceiling-high translucent cylinders that stood against the sides of the room. Each was filled with liquid with indistinct shapes suspended in them - some roughly humanoid, some more like collections of organs or body parts. The rest of the room was taken up by gleaming laboratory benches covered in equipment, some with purposes he couldn't even begin to guess at.

He moved from tank to tank, repulsed as he saw that some were full of monstrously bloated flesh that was barely contained by the glass.