Dark Storm Gathering (Warhammer Fantasy) by Chris Wraight

Author:Chris Wraight [Wraight, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2011-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The torches in the subterranean vaults under Altdorf had nearly all gone out. The few remaining brands cast a weak red light over the ancient stone. It mattered little to Kalia. As she went quickly through the series of chambers which had served her for so long, her eyes picked out detail in the gloom that a human would have missed in daylight. Despite her weariness she travelled surely amongst the forgotten places beneath the city, driven onward by cold fury.

There were only a few possessions to collect before she had to leave. The streets above were no doubt crawling with asur, and even the catacombs were no longer safe. Her human agents were mostly dead, her entourage destroyed. Attacking the archmage had been a risk too far. It was a bitter setback, though not nearly as bitter as Malek’s treachery. He could have taken her with him easily. Working together, they might even have been able to salvage something from the wreckage. But his true designs were obvious to her now.

He had meant her to die.

That crooked smile on his well-fed face had told her all she needed to know. She was Uthorin, he was Arkaneth. Once again, rivalry between druchii Houses had marred an attempt to strike a blow against the true enemy.

Kalia had passed through his chambers on her way back to her own shadowed lair, hoping against hope he might still be there. But he was not stupid enough to let himself be so easily caught. In his inner sanctum she had found the smashed bowl of a cauldron, stained with gore and the patina of fire. Everything of value had been hastily destroyed. Malek was not coming back.

Her fingers trembling slightly, Kalia uncorked a vial containing a dark blue liquid and poured it on her wounds. Where it touched her pale skin the potion fizzed and burned, cauterising the flesh. Clenching her teeth against the sharp pain, she worked methodically over her body. Feeling weary and slow-witted, she took a draught from another phial, one she used rarely. The potent narcotic rushed into her system, clarifying her mind and sharpening her senses. She leaned back against the dank wall for a moment, giving the powerful substances time to do their work.

She cast her mind back over the recent events. Her adversary, the White Lion, had been formidable. He fought more like one of her own kind than a typical asur. She knew enough of the ways of the Chracians to realise he would be on her trail now. The bond between master and beast was said to be closer than that between brothers. Though she despised the sentimentality, she could not ignore her peril.

Feeling energy slowly return, Kalia pushed herself back to her feet. She went through the remainder of her few belongings, taking fresh daggers and some tight-wrapped bundles of sustenance. Drawing her cloak around her, she set off once more along the narrow ways and into the darkness.

There were few options available to her.

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