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darkened cargo hold； the focused beams of their lights swinging left and right。 They were swallowed
by the darkness as they penetrated deeper into the stricken crawler； leaving Solon standing alone。
He turned around； the weak lights mounted on either shoulder of his exposure suit illuminating
the area around him in their yellow glow。 One of the lights flickered and buzzed； and Solon hit it
with one hand。 The flickering stopped； but then the light gave out all together； and he swore。
Feeling exposed and alone； he moved further into the cargo hold； trying to see the soldiers’
lights。 He couldn’t see them； and the sound of his own breathing filled his ears。 He also noticed
evidence of fighting。 Blackened scorch marks marred the sides of ore containers and severed cables
hung limp from holes blasted in the walls。
The massive ore containers were loaded on top of each other and tightly packed； forming a maze
of narrow corridors within the vast hold。 The containers disappeared in the gloom above him； and
Solon felt a rivulet of sweat ran down his spine。
Turning a corner； he almost stepped on the corpse。 It wore the uniform of a crawler orderly； and
Solon recoiled in horror and disgust。 The man looked as if he had died in absolute agony； his mouth
wide in a scream； his eyes huge and staring； and his body frozen in a contorted death spasm。 His
hands were twisted like claws； and his legs were bent beneath him。 It looked as though he had been
writhing in agony as he had died。 Solon saw a line of wicked splinters across his chest； embedded in
his flesh。
Solon turned away； feeling his stomach heave。 He ripped his mask away and vomited the
contents of his stomach onto the floor。 He pulled his canteen from one of the deep pockets of his
exposure suit； and took a swig of the cold water； cleansing his mouth and spitting it out onto the
floor。
He didn’t look again at the corpse as he walked away； sucking in the cold air in deep breaths。
It felt like the soldiers had been gone for hours； though it was more likely just minutes； and
Solon felt panic begin to rise within him。 What had hit the crawler？ What enemy was loose in the
darkness？ And was it still here？
The walls formed by the containers rearing up on either side of him seemed to close in； and
Solon’s breath was coming in shorter gasps。
“Stay here； he says。 To hell with that；” said Solon； deciding to find Sergeant Folches and his
soldiers。 He might not like the man； but if there was still an enemy in the crawler； he would feel a lot
more comfortable with the armed soldiers。
Thinking he heard a noise behind him； Solon spun around； his heart beating wildly。 There was
nothing there。 The weak illumination given off by his sole functioning shoulder lamp made the
shadows jump； and Solon’s eyes darted around in fear。
57
“There’s nothing here；” he said to himself。
He turned around to continue his search for the sergeant； and his lamp illuminated a pale face
less than a metre behind him。
Solon staggered backwards； a strangled cry tearing from his throat and his heart lurching。 His
sudden movement made the light from his lamp swing wildly； making shadows dance in front of
him； though his eyes were locked on the motionless figure。
He heard a shout； and boots pounded across the grilled flooring； coming closer； but still the face
stared up at him。
It was a child； no more than ten years old by his reckoning； his face pale and gaunt。 Solon stared
at the boy in horror； as if the ghosts of his past had risen to haunt him； for a fraction of a second； the
child was the spitting image of his son； dead these last eighteen years。
As the soldiers arrived； they shone their lights upon the child； and Solon saw that he was of flesh
and blood； not some ethereal phantom come to haunt him； and his resemblance to his dead son
faded。 The boy’s eyes were deeply ringed by shadow； and he recoiled from the bright lights；
shielding his eyes。
The boy looked up in fright as Sergeant Folches and one of his soldiers appeared； their weapons
levelled at the boy。 In the cold light of the soldier’s lights； his face took on a blue tinge。 He must be
half…frozen； thought Solon。 He let out a long breath； and tried to force his pounding heart…rate to
slow。
“Where in the hell did he come from？” barked Folches； sliding the visor of his helmet up。
“No idea；” said Solon； hardly able to take his eyes off the boy。
“You； boy；” said Folches。 “Are you the only one here？” His face fearful； the boy merely stared
up at the soldier。
“What happened here； boy？” asked Folches again； more forcefully。 The boy backed away a step；
looking as if he was going to bolt at any second。
“Ease up； sergeant；” said Solon； fumbling at one of his pockets。 He pulled out a protein pack；
and tore off its foil seal。
“You hungry？” he asked the boy； offering the food。
The boy merely stared back at him； and Solon took a small bite of the protein pack。 It was bland
and tasteless； but he nodded his head and made a show of enjoying it。 He saw the boy lick his lips；
and this time when Solon offered it to him he snatched it eagerly。
“You find any survivors？” Solon asked the sergeant in a low voice； though he kept his eyes on
the boy。
“No；” said Folches。 “We found some… remains； but nowhere near as many as I would have
expected。”
“Think they got away？ Fled on foot； or something？” asked Solon。
“I don’t think so；” said Folches。 “Whatever hit here； it hit hard and fast。 I don’t think anyone got
away。”
“What then？ They just disappeared？ There must have been a couple of hundred folks onboard。”
“They were taken；” said the boy suddenly。 Solon and Folches exchanged a look。
“Who took them； son？” asked Solon。
“Ghosts；” said the boy； his eyes haunted。
58
BOOK TWO：
GHOSTS
“Hate the xenos as you hate the infidel； as you hate the non…believer。 Feel not mercy for them； for
their very existence is profane。 What right have they to live； those that are Other？”
—Kor Phaeron； Master of the Faith
59
CHAPTER SEVEN
The four Land Raiders roared across the ice； passing the burnt…out shells of enemy vehicles。 The
bodies of men lay strewn around the smoking wrecks； their blood staining the snow beneath them。
“The last known location of the target is here；” said Kol Badar； indicating a position on the
schematics that appeared in flickering green lines upon the data…slate。 He was seated within the
enclosed space of the second Land Raider； his hulking form filling the space around him； making
the interior cramped。 He had removed his tusked helmet； and the red lights of the interior of the tank
gave his broad face a daemonic glow。
A passage from the Book of Lorgar was etched upon the skin of his right cheek； a gift cut from
the face of Jarulek； back on the Imperial world of Tanakreg before the Dark Apostle fell。
Marduk too had borne a similar passage on his cheek； though it had been obliterated when the
Dark Apostle had shot half his face off。 He had removed his skull…faced helmet and stowed it in an
arched niche above his head； alongside a pair of lit blood…candles； and the dark outline of the mark
of Lorgar was clearly visible on his forehead。
Incense wafted from one of the daemon…headed braziers； filling the air with its cloying stench。
Marduk snatched the data…slate from the Coryphaus； and looked where Kol Badar had indicated。
“What is this structure？” he asked。
“A mining facility； a hundred and fifty kilometres to the east。 But there is a problem。”
“Of course there is；” spat Marduk。 “Well？”
“The mining facility is located on the ocean floor。 It is over ten thousand metres below the
surface of the ice。”
“Lorgar’s blood；” said Burias from the other side of the Land Raider。 Blood still caked the icon
bearer’s lips and chin； and Marduk glared at him for a moment。
“On the ocean floor；” he said。
“That is correct； First Acolyte；” replied Kol Badar； “if the information the magos extracted can
be trusted。”
“It can；” said Marduk。 He balled his right hand into a fist and slammed it down onto an armrest
carved in the likeness of a spinal column。
He quickly recovered his composure； and quoted from the Epistles of Kor Phaeron； the revered
Master of the Faith whom he had served under during the campaign on Calth fighting against the
hated sons of Guilliman。
“‘Through our travails we journey further down the blessed spiral；’” he quoted。 “‘Through pain
and struggle and toil we prove ourselves before the true gods。 Each new obstacle should be
welcomed as a test of faith； for only the strong and true walk the Eightfold Path of Enlightenment。’”
“Indeed；” said Kol Badar dryly。
“You have formulated a battle order？” asked Marduk。 They had been back within the Land
Raiders for less than fifteen minutes； but he knew that Kol Badar’s keen strategic mind would have
already concocted a dozen plans to ensure victory for the Host； each one more complete than the
last。
“There is an access tunnel beneath the ice here；” said the Coryphaus； indicating on the schematic
map with one of his massive armoured fingers。 “It runs for two hundred kilometres； connecting this
habitation base with a starport located to the west。 Air recycling hubs connect the tunnel to the
60
surface at intermittent positions；” he said； stabbing his finger into the data…slate at several points
along the line of the access tunnel。 “This one is twenty…five kilometres from the habitation base。 We
proceed to that air…recycling hub by Land Raider； across these ice flows here； and here； and
approach from the south。 The wind will be behind us； and we should be able to approach without
detection； or at least neutralise any resistance before a defence can be established。”
“The defences of this world are pitiful；” said Marduk。 “The majority of the standing defence
force has already been vacated。 Darioq…Grendh’al picked up an incoming transmission as he
gathered the information。 The xenos invasion is expected to make planet…fall within the next sixtythree
hours。 Sixty…two hours now；” he corrected。
“Sixty…two hours；” said Kol Badar。 “This foolish mission cannot be achieved in sixty…two
hours。”
“Find a way；” retorted Marduk。
“It cannot be done；” said Kol Badar hotly。 “It could not be done even were we to encounter zero
opposition。 I suggest that we vacate this place。 There is nothing of value to our Legion here。”
“I am not asking for your council； Kol Badar；” said Marduk。 “You are the Coryphaus。 You enact
my will。 I am giving you an order； make it happen。”
“The xenos will have commenced their invasion before we are back on the surface；” said Kol
Badar。
“Explain to me how that changes anything？” snapped Marduk； losing patience。 “If they get in
our way； we kill them。 It is not complicated。”
“You wish to be here in the midst of a full…scale invasion？ With less than thirty warriors？”
“That is the voice of cowardice； Kol Badar；” said Marduk； his voice low and dangerous。 “You
shame the Legion and the position of Coryphaus with your fear。”
Kol Badar’s eyes flashed； and he ground his teeth； clenching his power talons。 Burias； sitting
opposite； grinned。
“You go too far； you whoreson whelp；” said Kol Badar； his eyes blazing with fury。
“Learn your place； Kol Badar；” growled Marduk； leaning in to the bigger warrior and snarling in
his face。 “Jarulek is dead。 I am the power of the Host。 Me！ The Host is mine； and mine alone。 You
are mine； and I will discard you if you prove of no use to me。”
Kol Badar bared his teeth； and Marduk could see him fighting to restrain himself from lashing
out。 With the fall of Jarulek； there was no question as to who was next in line。 Marduk； as First
Acolyte； was rightfully the leader of the Host； at least until such a time as the Council of Sicarus
deemed otherwise。
Marduk knew Kol Badar well。 They had fought alongside each other in a thousand wars since
the fall of the Warmaster Horus； and over that time he had come to understand； and despise； what he
was。 The Coryphaus was a deeply regimented warrior； who clung to ordained command structures
and protocols with an almost holy fervour。 Marduk had always seen it as a weakness； and had
goaded the Coryphaus regarding it； many times。
“You should have