‘It did not look good.’

‘He will be fine once the dust settles. Maybe some cuts and bruises, and a little selective amnesia.’

‘I’m not sure any of us will survive this.’

‘Possibly not.’ She shrugged. ‘Still, assuming I can reach my Lightning, I have a good shot at escaping off-world.’

‘Does it have the range to reach a neighbouring planet?’

‘No.’

‘So, you would die out there?’

‘Probably. But that wouldn’t be for a few hours. And, until then, I would be free to do as I please. There are worse ways to die.’

Another shudder. A scattering of dirt fell from the ceiling, the foetid soil having seeped through the cracks between the plascrete. A sudden image of a landslide struck me, the swamp entombing us alive. Shard’s proposed death did seem preferable.

‘I recall the Lightning has only one seat?’

‘Correct.’

‘A pity.’

‘You think I would extend an invitation to you?’ she said, her smile without a hint of sneer.

‘Not really. But, given the circumstances, I thought I would ask.’

‘I’m surprised,’ she said. ‘I would have thought you’d dedicate your final moments to your friends. The skulls.’

‘Kikazar is all I have left,’ I said. ‘Mizar left with the fighters. And Iwazar was taken by Dolos.’

‘My condolences. I know they mattered to you.’

I nodded. I could not think what to say, and my throbbing head made conversation difficult. The pain came in waves, and at that moment one crested. I’d thought the ache a consequence of the blow to my head. But it was getting worse.

Shard was saying something, but I could not hear it. It was as though a great pressure was building behind my eyes. She glanced at me, something akin to concern flashing across her eyes. It was pleasant to see, but only lasted a moment, for the next thing I saw was the plascrete floor rushing to meet me.

I lay there, listening as Kikazar began to shriek like a dying beast. The seer-skull lurched upright and, had it possessed a lower jaw, I have no doubt it would have snapped open and shut. As it was, its spindly limbs thrashed in anger or pain. Through our connection, I felt its machine-spirit screeching a warning as it was beaten down, supplanted by an unknown force. I feared it would shatter again under the pressure, but I could not sync with it, only watch helplessly as something bent the machine to its will.

A pictograph flickered into life, jagged runes carved by a blade. They looked alien, and nothing like the aeldari symbols. This was something far more savage.