Well, this was hell, and he was walking into it. But his mind was clear now, sharp as straight silver. The Ruinous Powers had threatened the wrong man.
At the end of the flooded hall was a flight of brick steps that led to the door of a billet hall. The lights in the stairwell were fluttering out. He thought he could hear voices.
He edged up the steps, shoulder to the wall, lasrifle aimed from the jawline. He peered out.
The billet hall was dry. Forty cots stood in two rows under a low arched roof of whitewashed stone, lit by low-power lamps. There were signs of disarray, of possessions disturbed, of people leaving in a hurry.
He hoped they’d all got out.
From the cover of the archway, he saw two figures sitting side by side on a cot at the far right end of the chamber.
It was Dalin and Yoncy.
Dalin was just staring at the next cot along, his arms in his lap, his rifle on the sheet beside him. Yoncy was snuggled up against his side, whispering quietly in his ear.
He heard Dalin murmur, ‘No, Yoncy.’ Like a denial. A weary refusal to accept.
Kolea took another step.
Yoncy looked up sharply, frowned at him, and then darted away.
‘Yoncy! Come back, girl!’ Kolea yelled, and ran down the chamber between the cot rows. She’d already vanished through an archway at the back.
‘Where’s she going?’ Kolea asked.
Dalin didn’t look up.
‘Dal! What’s she playing at? This isn’t a game.’ He turned back to look at Dalin. ‘Get up, Dal,’ he said. ‘Right now. Help me fetch your sister.’
Dalin looked up at him, his face deadpan.
‘She doesn’t make any sense,’ he said quietly.
Kolea frowned, and sat down beside him. ‘You all right? Dal?’
‘Yeah, yeah. This is all just a bit strange.’
‘You got that right,’ said Kolea. ‘There’s some ugly feth going on down here, Dal. So let’s jump to it. Find your fething sister, and drag her out of here by the skirts.’
‘She’s only playing,’ said Dalin.
‘Well, this isn’t time for games.’
‘She said she was hungry.’
‘Well, we’ll cart her upstairs and get her a meal.’
Dalin nodded.
‘Dal, have you seen anyone else? Bask or–’
‘No.’
‘Not anyone? They got everyone else up out of here? The whole retinue?’
‘I think so. I was just looking for Yonce. She was playing hide-and-seek when the lights went out. Got scared, I think.’
‘No doubt. Come on, move your arse before she gets too far ahead of us. Dalin?’
Dalin looked at him. It looked like he was trying to process something. Kolea didn’t like the way Dalin seemed so lethargic.
‘She said things,’ said Dalin.
‘What things?’
‘She said… she said word had come. That it was time. She said there was a woe machine here.’
‘A woe machine? What, like–’
‘Yeah,’ said Dalin. ‘It’s one of her games. “There’s a woe machine coming” she’d say, and then she’d hide and you’d have to find her. She’s been doing it for years. But when she said it just now, I thought…’
‘What?’
Dalin shrugged. ‘How does she know about woe machines? I’ve never thought about it before. I mean, I barely remember Vervunhive. I was just a child, and she’s younger than me. How does she remember that?’
Gol scratched his cheek. He remembered woe machines all too well. It was the term Vervunhivers had used to describe the ingeniously grotesque death engines that Heritor Asphodel had launched against the hive. They had come in an inventively murderous range of designs. None of the Verghastites in the regiment, Guard and retinue alike, had ever forgotten their malevolence.
‘She’s just heard talk over the years,’ said Kolea. ‘Gossip in the camp, bad memories.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘And made a bogeyman out of it. You know how she is with games.’
‘What, like her bad shadow?’ Dalin asked.
Kolea said nothing.
‘She said I should talk to you about it,’ said Dalin.
‘Me?’
‘She said papa would explain it to me.’
‘She calls everyone papa,’ Kolea replied sadly.
He put his hand to Dalin’s shoulder.
‘What’s the matter with you, Dal?’ he asked. ‘I don’t like this. Are you sick?’
‘I just…’ Dalin stopped and sighed. ‘She said such weird things. She’s always been strange, but–’
‘She’s always been your sister,’ said Kolea.
Dalin looked at him sharply. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing. Dal, get your fething head in gear. We have to find her, wherever she’s hiding, and get her out of here. There’s bad shit going on and she shouldn’t be down here. We shouldn’t be down here.’
Dalin nodded and got to his feet. He picked up his lasgun.
‘Yeah, of course,’ he said. He seemed a little more together. ‘I’d just spent so long looking for her in the dark, and then I found her, and I tried to calm her down, but she just wanted to play. And then the things she said just got to me.’
He looked at Kolea.
‘You know about that thing that attacked her and Mam Daur down at Low Keen?’
‘I heard,’ said Kolea.
‘What if that was a woe machine? I mean, it took apart a whole pack of enemy troops.’
‘But spared the pair of them? Where’s the logic in that?’
‘Did woe machines ever have any logic?’ Dalin asked. ‘You’d know.’
‘Not much,’ Kolea admitted.
‘And they were made by the Heritor.’
‘Asphodel.’
‘Right.’
‘He’s dead.’
‘I know,’ said Dalin. ‘But there are other heritors. We know that. I mean, Salvation’s Reach was a workshop for their breed. What if this is something made by one of the others? What if it followed us here from the Reach? What if… what if it’s here? In the city. What if it was out there at the old billet, and now it’s got in here?’
Kolea shook his head. ‘A death engine like a woe machine couldn’t get in here. The palace? Dal, it couldn’t get past the guards. The walls. The–’
‘Something has,’ said Dalin quietly.
‘Yes. Something has.’
They looked at each other for a moment.
‘Let’s find her, Dalin,’ said Kolea.
‘Oh, for feth’s sake!’ Baskevyl snapped and lowered his rifle.
Up ahead, in the low light of the bunk hall, Meryn and Banda lowered their weapons too.
‘I nearly fething shot you, you fething idiots,’ Baskevyl said.
‘Likewise,’ snorted Banda. ‘How are you lot fething in front of us?’
‘I’m telling you,’ said Blenner, coming up behind Bask, his voice agitated. ‘I’m telling you, there’s something not right going on down here. How are Meryn’s mob up there when they should be behind us? And where’s everybody else? Hmm? Where is everybody?’
‘There’s definitely something shitty-weird going on,’ growled Meryn. ‘We can’t find anyone and we can’t find the way out.’
‘What?’ snapped Baskevyl. He looked past Meryn at Leyr, one of the regiment’s finest scouts. Leyr looked deeply uncomfortable.
‘I can’t find the main stairs, sir,’ Leyr said.
‘Is everyone a fething idiot today?’ asked Baskevyl. ‘What do you mean you can’t find the stairs?’
‘I just can’t,’ said Leyr. ‘They’re not where they were. It should be back two rooms, and then to the right. But it’s not. It’s freaking me out.’
‘You’re freaking me out,’ said Baskevyl.