Trachos shook his head. ‘Nuln?’
Gotrek rolled his eyes. ‘No matter. The point is that we should be able to lift a section of the road up.’ He examined the mass of arcane equipment at Trachos’ belt. ‘Does a fancy title like Lord Ordinator mean you know how to use a spanner?’
Trachos stared at Gotrek, clearly surprised. He shook his head. ‘I have never seen this kind of design before.’
Gotrek jabbed him in the chest with a blocky finger. ‘What are you scared of? Trying and failing? If you do nothing we die anyway.’
Trachos hesitated, then turned to the building, examining the layout. ‘Perhaps.’ He paced back and forth for a moment, then edged around the flames and dropped out of sight, climbing down into the mechanisms underneath the gatehouse. A few seconds later, clanging sounds rose up from the shadows.
Maleneth looked back down the road at the fast-approaching crowd of ghouls. ‘I guess ten minutes. Maybe less.’
‘We can do better than that,’ said Gotrek, hefting his axe in both hands. ‘Help the manling. He’s more capable than he thinks. Call me when he’s done.’ He started pounding back down the road towards the ghouls. ‘But don’t be too quick. This looks like fun.’ He howled a war cry, dropped his head and charged.
‘They’ll tear him apart,’ muttered Lhosia.
Maleneth watched Gotrek go with exasperation. ‘You really would think so, wouldn’t you?’
She turned back to the fire and tried to spot Trachos. At first she could see no sign of the Stormcast, but then the sound of tuneless singing led her to him. He was wailing strident verses to himself as he worked. She held up her arm to shield her face as she approached the walls, feeling her hair shrivel in the heat.
Trachos was crouched on a framework of curved metal, grappling with a series of ash-covered cogs. He was holding what looked like a pair of riveted, golden callipers, and he was trying to fix them to the struts beneath the road.
There was a furious bellowing from behind as Gotrek reached the first ranks of ghouls. They were close enough that Maleneth could see their faces as the Slayer axed them down, scattering bones and blood.
She wondered whether to go and help Gotrek or stay with Trachos. ‘Can you work it?’ she called down to him.
Trachos’ callipers were now clamped around one of the struts, and the tool was alive with aether-light. Trachos leant his weight against it, singing too loudly to hear Maleneth’s question.
‘Will it work?’ she yelled.
He twisted around, shaking his head. ‘No. The gates are warded by sorcery. I can see a lock, but we don’t have the key.’
‘The gatekeeper would have it!’ cried Lhosia, peering through the ruined gate at the bodies on the other side. ‘If you could get me into the building, I would be able to spot his corpse from the others. He might still be wearing the key.’
Maleneth stared at the wall of flames. ‘We’d cook. We’ll have to wait for it to die down.’
‘No time,’ said Trachos as he hauled himself back up onto the road, fastening the callipers back to his armour. He took his helmet from his belt and fixed it back in place, then took out both his hammers and marched towards the gates. He showed no sign of feeling the heat as he reached the inferno. He paused for a moment in front of the tall, bone-wrought doors. He leant forwards to peer at the hinges and nodded. As Gotrek careered through the crowds of ghouls, Trachos began to attack the gate, smashing the hinges repeatedly with his hammers, surrounding himself in clouds of sparks and smoke. The doors, already weakened by the flames, began to judder, and Trachos hit them with even more fury, swinging the hammers with such force that they began to spark and crackle. Finally, with a monstrous groan, the gates started to lean backwards.
Trachos retreated, lowering his hammers as they slammed down onto the road.
A wall of flames and smoke rolled towards Maleneth, forcing her back. Then the fire ebbed away to reveal the doors lying flat on the ground, still sparking and smoking but with nowhere near the same ferocity.
Trachos glanced at her. ‘How fast can you run, Witchblade?’
She nodded and darted past him, sprinting over the toppled doors and dodging the flames until she reached the road on the far side.
Through the fire she saw Trachos march over to Lhosia. They exchanged words – Lhosia seemed hesitant. Then she nodded, and Trachos picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder like she was a bundle of clothes.
The rest of the gatehouse was still engulfed in flames, but as Trachos jogged through the fallen gates with Lhosia in his arms, he was able to protect her from the few still licking around the opening.
Even from this side of the building, Maleneth could see the absurd odds Gotrek faced. The Slayer looked like he was trying to hold back a tidal wave.
‘The rune,’ she muttered. She turned to Trachos. ‘If they kill him…’
Trachos nodded. ‘The key,’ he said, looking at Lhosia. ‘Which one of these bodies is the gatekeeper?’
Lhosia rushed back and forth. Apart from the dead knights, all the bodies were ghouls. She shook her head. ‘None of them. He’s not here!’
Maleneth moved further on down the road. ‘Then he must have fled.’
‘No.’ Lhosia stared at the ruined building. ‘The Gravesward would never have let him abandon his post. It would be treason.’ She rushed from body to body, turning them over and shaking her head.
Gotrek cried out in frustration, and they all turned towards him.
The ghouls were driving him back. They could not manage to land a blow on him, so they were using sheer weight of numbers to overwhelm him, hurling themselves on the bodies of the fallen and creating a landslide of fists and claws.
‘We need that key,’ said Trachos, surveying the gruesome mess that surrounded them. ‘Are you sure none of these are him?’
‘Sure,’ muttered Lhosia, ‘but that makes no sense.’
There was another roar of defiance as the crowds pushed Gotrek back towards them.
So you die, said the voice from the blood vial, whispering smugly in Maleneth’s head. Slaughtered like cattle, miles from anywhere, in an abandoned gatehouse. A worthy end for someone like you.
Maleneth hissed a curse. She cast her gaze over the ruined walls and the empty buildings on either side of the fallen gates. There were several doors, some smashed, some intact, all of them splattered with blood. ‘I wonder,’ she muttered.
‘What?’ said Trachos.
‘Can you give me a few more minutes?’ She nodded towards Gotrek. ‘Can you help the hog hold them back for a little longer?’
He looked at her in silence for a moment, clearly suspicious. Then he shrugged and stumbled back through the flames, launching into another hymn. Maleneth guessed his logic – better to be near the rune than stuck with the murderous aelf. It didn’t matter. As long as he could buy her a few more minutes.
As the road lit up with flashes of Azyrite sorcery, Maleneth rushed to the nearest ghoul corpse and dropped to her knees, whipping out her knives.
‘It’s already dead,’ said Lhosia, staring at her in confusion.
Maleneth ignored her, slamming the blades down into the corpse’s chest. There was a dull cracking sound as she wrenched them apart, ripping open the ribcage and revealing the glistening mess beneath.
Lhosia cursed in disgust and backed away.
You can’t do this, said the voice of her dead mistress. What are you thinking? You really are a fool. Do you think that just because you watched me at work, you can perform a blood sacrament?
Maleneth thrust her hand into the wound and grabbed the still-warm heart, then stood up, ripping it from its cage in a spray of crimson. I did more than watch you, mistress, she thought. You thought me a blunt-minded tool, but I was always preparing, always planning for the day I would take your place.