With a final, ear-splitting roar, the Slayer ripped his axe from the monster’s chest.
Gotrek cartwheeled backwards in an arc of blood, then rolled across the floor and charged back at the ghoul. This time, rather than sinking his axe into the monster’s chest, he followed Lhosia’s lead, swiping low and cutting through its ankle.
The monster fell heavily, smashing more columns and scattering cocoons.
As the ghoul landed, Maleneth dashed across the room, snatched a vial from her belt and hurled it into the monster’s gaping mouth, dodging aside as it reached out to grab her.
Gotrek had already strode on to meet the other two giants. The first tried to land a punch, but the berserk Slayer was too fast and the blow only succeeded in smashing more bone from the walls.
Lhosia leapt from the shadows and hacked through the ankle of the next ghoul, sending it smashing to the floor before she vanished into the darkness again.
Maleneth was ready. The giant had hardly hit the ground before she hurled a vial down its throat and backed away.
Trachos marched past the downed ghouls and levelled his blazing sceptre at the one still standing, causing it to reel away from him, arms raised in front of its grotesque face.
Gotrek barrelled across the room and swung his axe with such force that it hacked straight through both of the ghoul’s legs, dropping it in a shower of splintered bone. The creature slumped against the wall, and Maleneth hesitated, swaying from side to side as she tried to spot a route to its head. Then she had a better idea. She ran to the monster’s butchered leg and punched her fist into the severed muscles, leaving a vial embedded deep beneath its pallid skin.
As Gotrek, Maleneth and Trachos backed away, Maleneth’s poison took effect and the three giants began to smoulder. Smoke plumed from their mouths as they thrashed across the floor, clawing at their throats and eyes before erupting into flame.
The blaze was so ferocious that everyone was forced to back away to the doorway they had originally entered through.
Gotrek gave Maleneth and Trachos a grudging nod of respect. ‘Not bad,’ he yelled over the sound of the dying ghouls.
‘The Unburied!’ cried Lhosia, pointing her scythe at the door on the other side of the fire. The flames were spreading across the floor into the chamber the ghouls had emerged from. ‘The others may still be alive! They’ll be burned.’
Gotrek looked at the flames and laughed. ‘Rather your paper eggs than us.’
Lhosia glared at him, still gripping the scythe. For a moment, Maleneth thought the priestess might try and attack the Slayer. Then she shook her head. ‘Only the Unburied can guide me to Prince Volant. If you let them burn, you will never see the prince and you will never find Nagash. The prince could be anywhere in Morbium. And the princedom is vast – we could search for years and not find him. But the Unburied see all. They could tell me right now where Prince Volant is, and the best way to reach him without encountering more of the mordants.’
Gotrek stared at the fire. One side of his face was glossy with old scar tissue. He ran his finger over the burns. ‘I’ve been through bigger fires.’
He turned to Trachos and Maleneth. ‘Either of you know another way to find this prince?’
They shook their heads.
Gotrek gave his beard a thoughtful tug, looking at the priestess. Then he raced into the flames.
Maleneth cursed and headed after him, but the heat drove her back. ‘Trachos!’ she called. ‘Your faith will protect you. Follow him!’
Trachos nodded and limped towards the fire.
‘No, wait,’ muttered Maleneth, putting her hand on his chest. ‘I know what you’ll do if he has immolated himself. You’ll take the damned rune.’ She glanced at Lhosia. ‘Is there another way out of there?’
Lhosia nodded.
Trachos shoved Maleneth aside, heading for the flames again, raising his voice in skull-tightening song.
But before he reached the fire, Gotrek came charging back into the room, head down and cradling something, trailing sparks and smoke as he ran past Trachos and Maleneth and dropped to his knees, still laughing.
‘Got it,’ he said, standing up and grinning at Lhosia.
The priestess ran to him, ignoring the smoke and the heat as she prised his arms apart.
‘Intact,’ she whispered, gently lifting a cocoon from his grip. She closed her eyes and let her head fall gently against it.
‘Now the others!’ she said, staring back through the flames. ‘There should be another cocoon, like this one.’
‘It was empty.’ Gotrek nodded at the mess scattered across the floor. ‘Ruined like these.’
‘You’re lying!’ Lhosia put the cocoon under one arm and drew her scythe, her lips quivering.
Gotrek raised an eyebrow, calmly ignoring the blade that was inches from his face.
Lhosia’s eyes widened, and she drew the scythe back to strike.
Maleneth grabbed her arm. ‘He doesn’t lie. He really is that boring.’
The rage dimmed in Lhosia’s eyes. ‘All gone?’ she muttered.
‘Apart from that,’ said Gotrek, nodding at the cocoon she carried.
Maleneth tried to get a better look at it, intrigued by the awe Lhosia obviously held it in. ‘What is it?’ she asked, struggling to see it clearly in the firelight. ‘How is that your family?’
Lhosia sheathed her scythe and cradled the object like an infant. Then she nodded to the antechamber they had entered through. She walked towards it, indicating that they should follow. ‘Let me show you.’
Chapter Eight
The Unburied
Once they were gathered in the room, Gotrek shoved the door closed behind them, blocking out the heat and smoke.
Lhosia was still hugging the object and she gave them a wary look. ‘You are not one of the Erebid. You do not understand the Unburied.’
Gotrek’s expression darkened. ‘I’ve just singed half my beard for this.’
‘What is an Erebid?’ asked Maleneth, amused by the woman’s odd, nervous behaviour.
‘I am.’ Lhosia still sounded hollow and dazed, but she tried to explain. ‘I mean, we are – the people of Morbium. It’s what we call ourselves.’ She waved them away. ‘You must not stand so close. When I am communing with my ancestors I will be in a fragile state.’
Maleneth raised an eyebrow. ‘Emotionally?’
‘Physically. My form will change. You must not touch me until the rite is complete. If you touch me it won’t only be me who is in danger. You will become part of the ritual. The Unburied will inhale your soul and your flesh will be transformed, made brittle. You will be drawn into your past lives and the past lives of the Unburied.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ grunted Gotrek. He gave Maleneth a warning glance. ‘But I’ll make sure no one interferes with your spell.’
Maleneth gasped in mock offence. ‘Always, you doubt me, Slayer.’
‘Stay away from me until I am done,’ Lhosia said. ‘Or you risk more than just your flesh.’
She headed over to one of the columns that arched up the walls of the chamber and sat down against it. She muttered quietly under her breath. It seemed to be some kind of song.
‘Oh…’ Maleneth rolled her eyes. ‘She’s a wise woman. I imagine she reads palms.’ She gripped the knives at her belt and smirked. She could show Lhosia how to perform a rite that actually achieved something. And it would not require any lullabies.
As Maleneth strolled around the chamber, waiting for the rite to finish, she considered her next move. She’d had no option but to follow the Slayer this far, but what if there really was some way he could reach the God of Death? Nagash was known for many things, but sharing was not one of them. If Gotrek reached Nagash, the Slayer would be destroyed, his soul would be enslaved and the rune would be taken. She had to find a way to get her hands on it before this ridiculous quest got out of hand.