There was heat, a dense throb of heat but a coldness too in spite of it, endless as the stars themselves. Va’lin was no psyker, his training and relentless mental conditioning had revealed nothing of the warp within him, but he felt… a presence here. An undeniable sense of spirit and existence dwelled within that mark.

He stood up, looked around, surveyed the edge of the sand basin but could see no farther than the totems. Smoke surrounded them on all sides, occluding the desert beyond. It was like being trapped beyond time.

‘Da–’ he began to call, but then thought better of it.

Something was burning. He heard the crackle of fire, the snap of smouldering wood. Ahead, in place of one of the totems, was a firebrand, the one they had followed to this place which had led them safely from the canyon and saved their lives.

Va’lin was about to go to it when he heard Illion stirring. Za’tenga alongside him coughed up a wad of black phlegm and the Scout was reminded that the survival of the aspirants was even now not guaranteed.

For the second time, he hauled them up onto his shoulders. As he trudged from the shrine circle, pausing briefly at the flickering brand, scared to touch it should it be proven false and Va’lin’s mind broken, Za’tenga muttered, ‘Are we dead?’

‘No,’ Va’lin told him, eyes forward as they parted the veil of smoke. ‘Not yet, at least.’

For several minutes, Va’lin walked through a grey miasma, not knowing where he was going but somehow assured he was on the right path. And as mist parts from the surface of a cooling lake, the veil thinned and they returned to the Scorian Plain. Over a shallow rise they found the speeder. Captain Ba’ken was standing in the pilot’s seat, panning the length of the desert with his scope.

When he saw them, he dropped back down and the guttural engines revved hard. Within a few seconds, he and Exor were with them, rushing from the transport to take Va’lin’s mortal burden and secure them in the troop hold.

While Exor provided what little medical attention they had packed with them in the speeder, Ba’ken stood with Va’lin a few metres from where they had set down.

‘I thought the earth had claimed you,’ he said without emotion, though Va’lin could tell he was holding back his anger and his relief.

‘For a few moments back in the canyon, I thought it had too.’

A minute of silence passed between them with the dull throb of the idling Land Speeder the only sound.

‘You should not have lived,’ Ba’ken said. He was stating a fact, based on the evidence of his eyes and his knowledge as a captain of the Salamanders. ‘When that canyon collapsed, you should not have lived. It isn’t possible.’