Daemonbreaker by Jude Reid

Author:Jude Reid
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science fiction: space opera (FLS)
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2024-06-19T00:00:00+00:00

XI

Nadezhda’s Rest stank of blood. Gwynnet picked her way across the broken ground, careful to avoid the corpses in bloodstained armour and the twisted remains of what once had been holy relics. The corpses of the two Terminators lay surrounded by dead Sororitas, the thick black vines that had writhed with unholy life withered to husks.

The Sacresant Superior stood in the sanctum’s heart in silence. Most of the left side of her face was occupied by a livid burn, and her right gauntlet was charred black as though by intense heat. The heretic sorcerer lay on his back a little distance away, the sword of Saint Arabella standing vertically from the centre of his chest – but something was horribly wrong. Where before the sword had gleamed with holy purity, now it was charred an uneven matt black, all trace of its former glory hidden behind a thick patina of filth that obscured even its name.

Gwynnet took her place at Aveline’s shoulder and waited, staring along with her at the corpse of Dominion Vasiliki, where she lay at her feet.

‘God-Emperor.’ Aveline’s voice was flat. ‘Receive this worthy soul in glory.’ She knelt by Vasiliki’s bisected remains, seemingly oblivious to Gwynnet’s presence, and gently lifted the Sabbat-pattern helm from the dead Dominion Superior’s face. Compared to the ghastly state of the rest of her corpse, Vasiliki’s face was serene. The blood on her lips was already drying, and though her eyes were open, they were empty, no lingering expression of horror or pain recorded at the moment of her death. Aveline removed her gauntlet and closed the open lids with the charred and weeping fingertips of her right hand.

‘Decidat gloria,’ Aveline said. She closed her own eyes for a moment, then stood.

‘Shall I call for Sister Cilise?’ Gwynnet asked softly. ‘For your burns…’

Aveline looked at Gwynnet as though seeing her for the first time. ‘No, I…’ She curled her burned hand into a ball, and let the sleeve of her vestments hang over it. ‘There is no need.’

Gwynnet nodded slowly. She considered asking Aveline for orders, but thought better of it, standing with her in silence until the sound of footsteps became too loud to ignore.

‘Sacresant Superior!’ The voice was Zarah’s, the other Sacresant approaching at a hasty jog, her shield and halberd caked with blood and foul-smelling, half-dried sap. A unit of Battle Sisters was close behind her, Sister Xenovia easily keeping pace despite her short stature. ‘What…’ Her pale grey eyes roved across the devastation, taking in the scale of the death, the desecrated relics, and the surviving Sisters beginning the gruesome work of attending to the bodies. ‘What happened here? What happened to your hand?’

She reached out for Aveline’s wrist, but the Sacresant Superior pulled it away. ‘The heretic sorcerer is dead.’ Aveline motioned to the corpse on the floor. ‘The cost was high…’

Zarah’s hand darted forward again and seized Aveline’s by the sleeve of her vestments. ‘And you will not add to that cost by making a martyr of yourself.

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