The instant I do, the storm shifts and my threat-sense blares again as lightning arcs from the clouds, hitting me square in the chest. It steals my vision. My hearing. It steals the air from my lungs. I am launched backwards off my feet by the force of it, the chamber blurring around me until I land hard on my back on the stone floor, smoke rising from the flash-burn on my armour. For an instant I can’t see anything. Can’t hear, or speak. When my vision goes from black to blurry, I see the horned silhouette of one of Amenthas’ silent brothers turn its head towards me and approach with its bolter raised. I try to get to my feet, threat-sense ringing in my ears, but I only make it as far as my knees. The silent warrior fixes me with eyes of green fire. Raises its bolter to its shoulder.

And then the point of a blade punches through its eye-lens from the other side.

The warrior stumbles and staggers and puts one gauntleted hand to where the blade is jutting from, only for several high-calibre solid rounds to slam into its chest, punching holes in the armour there. Grey dust spills out in ribbons as I catch sight of robes and braids and bare feet. Of exile brands, as Yumia vaults up onto the Heretic Astartes’ back and cuts the rubberised seal with her second dart. She bares the Heretic Astartes’ throat as if bleeding an animal, encouraging dust to spill out freely. She throws herself clear again even as the traitor collapses backwards. Even as Zoric puts his hands under my arms and drags me into cover behind one of the chamber’s marble statues. He sits me up against the relic, and stares me in the face.

‘Are you mad?’ Zoric asks, as Amenthas’ storm grows larger all around us. ‘What were you trying to do?’

‘I was trying to reach her,’ I say, getting to my feet. ‘To save her.’

‘And you,’ he says to Yumia, as she ducks into the shadow of the statue with us. ‘You’re no better, jumping onto that damned thing like that. I could have hit you.’

‘No you couldn’t,’ she snaps. ‘Not in a month’s worth of moons.’

Then Yumia pushes past him and grabs hold of me by my shoulders, slamming me back against the statue. I feel the cold steel edge of one of her darts against my throat. Pressing against my pulse.

‘We will find the Conduit on Dimmamar,’ she snarls at me. ‘That is what you said.’

‘Because I believed it,’ I shout, my voice faltering because of the shock and the fall and all of the dust in my throat. ‘I let myself believe it.’

‘Then you didn’t know?’ Zoric asks, mortar dust and chips of stone bursting into the air around us from gunfire and the growing storm.