And look where it got you.
‘It’s got me within reach of that rune. And once I have it, no one in Azyrheim will say a word against me. I’ll be the hero of the Order. The hero of the age! Sigmar himself will want to meet me.’
You’re no closer to getting your hands on that thing. I’ve told you the key, but you’re too ignorant to listen.
‘The key? What key? And why would I listen to you? What possible reason could you have to help me?’
Anger crept into her mistress’ voice. Khaine. You’re as dim-witted as the Slayer. What do you think will happen to me if you die down here?
Maleneth rarely heard anything other than derision from the blood amulet. There was something intriguing about this new, furious tone. She started to pay attention. ‘You’re already dead. What does it matter to you if I live or die?’
Whatever this is, it is not death, Witchblade. Do you think this is just your subconscious speaking to you? Do you think I’m merely a fragment of your mind?
Maleneth shrugged. ‘The thought had occurred.’
Her mistress’ anger grew as she was forced to speak so plainly. Idiot girl. You have captured a facet of my soul. While you live I retain a portion of life. A wretched morsel, admittedly, and attached to your disastrous existence, but it is all I have.
Maleneth cradled the amulet in her hand, studying the dark liquid at its heart, smiling. ‘Yes, the most suitable torment I could think of. Letting a piece of you live on, powerless, watching me ascend to the heights you dreamed of.’
Play your facile games, Witchblade, but if you do not steal that rune from the Slayer, neither of us will leave Shyish.
‘Then cease your prattling and stop talking in riddles. If you really want to help me, if you really do have an idea, share it.’ She took the blood vial from the amulet and dangled it over the rolling deck. ‘If my games are so facile, perhaps I will abandon them? Perhaps I will rob you of your chance to watch my ascension?’
Put that back! I will tell you what I saw.
‘You will.’ Maleneth smiled, rolling the vial between her fingers, revelling in the power she held over her former betrayer. ‘And you will do it quickly.’
Khaine curse you. I will make you pay. I will–
‘You will dribble across this deck and be forgotten. Unless you speak up quickly.’
Very well! I will speak so plainly even you might understand. Do you remember watching the priestess commune with her ancestor?
Maleneth nodded.
What did she say?
Maleneth laughed. ‘She warned us to keep away because she would be so “fragile”.’
Exactly – her body grew brittle and she warned you not to touch her. And the padlock she wears around her neck. Can you remember what happened to that?
‘Nothing. Nothing happened to it.’
Precisely. Her flesh was transformed. She grew brittle and weak, but her necklace was unchanged. What if the Slayer were transformed in such a way? He would be so brittle and weak he could be smashed like porcelain.
Maleneth slumped back against the gunwale, her pulse racing. ‘Of course. And the rune would be left intact.’
It’s ur-gold. Tempered by that duardin rune master back in Aqshy. And Gotrek’s not truly a fyreslayer. He has no interest in their god. That rune does not belong in his body. If you destroyed his flesh, the Rune of Blackhammer would be left in the broken shards.
‘And how would we move this ship if Gotrek was dead?’
Think! You only need the rune to channel the ship’s power. You don’t need the oaf.
Maleneth shook her head, still dubious. ‘Why are you helping me?’
You’re all I have, you fool. If I don’t help you, you will die down here and I will be… I will be nothing.
There was genuine emotion in the voice. Maleneth could not believe her mistress was telling the absolute truth, but perhaps it was part of the truth. And the idea was a good one. She laughed. ‘And how do you suggest I convince Gotrek Gurnisson to worship moths and hug corpses?’
Even in a mind as barren as yours, some of my training must have taken root. Think. I have given you the key. Find a way to use it.
Maleneth shook her head. ‘He would never–’
She gasped. ‘Khaine.’ All across the deck, Gotrek’s rune-light blazed brighter, dazzling her again.
‘Valaya’s teeth!’ howled the Slayer. It sounded like he was in pain.
Maleneth was blinded for several unpleasant minutes. She tried crawling into a foetal position to ease the nausea, but that made her feel like she was one of the cadavers in the cocoons. She tried standing to see if that was any better, just as Gotrek let out another howl.
A few seconds later, Maleneth breathed a sigh of relief. The aether-ship was slowing down. The spinning motion of the decks grew slower and slower until, with a final, metallic screech of gears, the whole thing ground to a halt.
After all the noise and movement that had preceded it, the quiet was eerie. Everyone on the deck glanced around in confusion.
Maleneth stood on trembling legs and looked out across the waves. There was nothing but the peaks and troughs of the Eventide. ‘Lord Aurun?’ she called out. ‘What is this? Why have we stopped?’
The knight shook his head, frowning as he looked up towards Lhosia and Prince Volant.
The prince strode across the deck and stamped on the hatch to the engine room. ‘Slayer! What happened?’
There was no answer.
Maleneth muttered a curse and untied herself, then staggered across to the hatch. ‘Let me speak to him,’ she said, opening it and climbing down the ladder.
The engines were still sparking with rune-light, and she spied Trachos way down in the bilges, at the bottom of a second ladder. She continued down and rushed over to him. The air was hazy with bitter-smelling smoke, and it took her a moment to spot Gotrek, sprawled against the engines. His muscle-bloated frame was shimmering with energy. He looked like a star chart, covered in lines and intersections, all centred on the rune.
‘Grimnir’s taking me,’ he grunted. ‘And I’ll not stand for it!’ Dozens of cables dangled from his chest where Trachos had attached him to the ship’s engines. ‘I’m not a bloody fuel pipe!’
Trachos shook his head. ‘The Master Rune is the only way to channel the aether-gold. And without aether-gold we have no way to move this ship.’
Prince Volant had climbed down after Maleneth. He leant through the acrid fumes. ‘You swore an oath. Are you breaking your word?’
Gotrek struggled to his feet and glared up at Volant. ‘I’m no oathbreaker. I’ll get your moth eggs home.’ He looked down at the rune. ‘But there has to be a better way.’
He jostled the cables and scowled at Trachos. ‘This rune is a vampire, manling. Think of something else.’ Rune-fire flashed across his beard as he talked. ‘Another hour of this and there’ll be nothing left of me.’
Trachos rattled the broken cables. ‘These are ruined. We need your rune.’
Now. Now’s your chance!
The voice spoke with such vehemence that Maleneth half expected the others to hear it.
She looked from the raging Slayer to Trachos and then to Lhosia, who was halfway down the ladder, watching the exchange. She thought hard about what her mistress had said. If she could convince the Slayer to commune with the corpses, he would be vulnerable, and the rune would be within her grasp.