‘Good,’ she said, and unclenched her hand. The ferocious blue-white flames faded, to be replaced with comparatively gentle yellow ones. She held Radimir’s gaze for a few seconds, then turned to head for the exit. He watched her go. A powerful talent, that one. It would be a shame to let it go to waste… but potentially dangerous to keep it around. Radimir’s gifts had been honed by his masters, and he’d been trained to keep his mind safe from those beings that might seek to use him as a doorway into this reality. Darke might be powerful, but she would have had no such training.

But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t be taught. Perhaps it was time to take on a pupil of his own, Radimir thought. Darke’s raw, destructive power could be of great use to him, for when stealth was no longer an option. He’d have to consider it. For now, let her guard the site of the ritual and keep that safe for him.

He resheathed his powerblade and checked his body armour, fingering the hole in his jacket where Della’s knife had struck. Behind him, one of Svet’s brothers shuffled forwards and, with a nervous glance at the nearby generator stack, smothered Della’s merrily burning corpse with his own cloak.

The Enemy Within

The Enemy Within

‘I don’t want her here any more,’ Chetta said irritably as she stumped along the corridor, trying to keep up with Vittariel’s long strides. Her hip wasn’t giving her too many problems today, but her brother-in-law’s stubborn refusal to walk at a considerate pace was taxing her.

‘We don’t have a choice,’ Vittar replied, his own tone equally short. ‘She’s the honoured guest of Kennevario, and, need I remind you, a rogue damned trader. She can in all likelihood go where she pleases.’ He glanced sideways and downwards at her. ‘It’s the Feast of the Emperor’s Ascension in a few days, and she’ll be there too. Why does she bother you so badly, anyway?’

‘Gut instinct,’ Chetta replied, staring straight ahead and glaring at the next turning as though she could bring it closer through sheer willpower.

‘Gut instinct?’ Vittar scoffed. ‘Really, Chetta.’

‘Yes, Vittar,’ Chetta snapped. ‘You’ve flown enough to trust your gut, I hope? When you can’t perceive a threat, but you know that it’s there? I can feel it in my bones at those times, I don’t know about you.’

‘We’re not in the warp now, Chetta,’ Vittar said quietly. ‘I won’t deny that I fly by instinct sometimes, but this is real space. We have to use our eyes and our ears and our minds. If we try to fly by instinct here, we’ll fly blind.’