Ashes of Prospero by Gav Thorpe

Author:Gav Thorpe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2018-02-08T07:07:14+00:00

CHAPTER 10

THE PYRAMID OF PHOTEP

Njal looked at the Rhino and knew instantly that it would be going nowhere until it had been tended by the Iron Priests. In the distance, he could see the gunships moving back and forth against the blaze of psychic light. Whatever was happening in central Tizca was more important than his predicament and he held off voxing one of the pilots to collect him.

The Pyramid of Photep is several miles away.+

‘I have run the ice fields of Fenris for days at a time. It will take a few minutes, that is all.’

His gaze fell upon Majula and his confidence waned a little. She could not hope to keep pace.

‘Leave me here, I will rejoin you when I can,’ she told him, guessing his thoughts. Though her eyes flitted to the mounds of corpses and the shadows in the ruined buildings. ‘I will find my own way to your brothers.’

‘It is not safe.’ Njal considered the problem and then took a step towards the Navigator, his empty hand held out. ‘If you do not mind your dignity being a little bruised, I will carry you.’

‘I do not wish to slow you down, Lord of Runes. Something fell occurs in Tizca and you must be quick to counter it.’

‘You shall be no burden at all,’ he assured her, gesturing for Majula to approach. ‘We shall run as swift as the hunting wolves.’

‘I am young but I am not a child. I do not think this paternal attitude is appropriate.’

‘You misunderstand,’ said Njal. ‘You are the Navigator and if I wish to return to Fenris I have to keep you alive.’

Well done, wolf-son! Finally you show some perspective.+

‘I see.’ She pressed against the wolf pelt that hung from his waist and he lifted gently, holding her to his chest. More carefully than when he had attacked the cultists, he allowed the warp to trickle into his thoughts, to flow gently through his veins. His hearts stirred at the power, his blood coursed, and a sweat stood out on his skin.

‘Like the wolf,’ he told her again and broke into a run.

It is hard to believe that a people famed for their sagas make such repeated use of trite metaphors.+

His first strides were slow and lumbering, the Terminator armour so suited to close-quarters combat not ideal for quick acceleration. Four strides later, Njal and his armour had reached a rhythm that started to eat away at the distance. Forcing psychic power into his muscles and the fibre bundles of his suit, Njal continued to accelerate. Ignoring Izzakar’s taunt, he pictured a sleek wolf chasing deer across a glacier, tongue lolling, snow on its pelt.

Leaving an ice-shadow behind him, they leapt a dozen metres at the next stride, momentarily sliding aside from reality. Majula gasped and he held her tight but careful not to crush her with the powered limb.

Remarkable!+

Six more strides and he wyrd-slipped again, the next jump covering twenty metres in an instant. His

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