‘Is there a way…?’ she began, her voice faltering, unsure what she was going to say.
Everyone turned to stare at her.
She looked up at Lhosia. ‘Did you say the Unburied power your fortresses?’
Lhosia nodded.
‘I wonder…’ She shrugged, ready to be ridiculed. ‘Could they help us use Gotrek’s rune in some other way? If your ancestors could see it – if they could understand its nature – could they release its power without causing Gotrek to be changed like this? If they could channel the power from the rune, it could still work as a conduit for the aether-gold.’
Volant shook his head, but Lhosia peered at Gotrek with interest.
‘I do not understand the nature of that rune, but the Unburied understand most things. Some were alive when the Kharadron sold us the Spindrift. One way or another, I’m sure they could help.’ She looked back up towards the deck. ‘If Gotrek were willing to join me in communion with the Unburied…’
Gotrek backed away, his eye flashing. ‘Join you? You want to join me to those things? Not a chance.’ He started to climb up the ladder, and the others followed.
‘You would only need to sit with me to join the communion,’ said Lhosia as she emerged onto the deck.
‘No.’ Gotrek was stomping around, glaring at the cocoons.
‘We need to do something,’ said Lord Aurun, staring out across the sea. ‘Look.’
They all peered into the darkness.
‘What is that?’ asked Maleneth. With the rune-light gone, it was hard to see far across the waves. ‘Is the sea moving?’
Prince Volant muttered a curse and shook his head. ‘Archers!’ he cried. ‘Ready your bows!’ He turned to the scythe-wielding knights gathered around them. ‘Prepare to be boarded.’
Maleneth crossed the deck and leant out over the rail until her eyes made sense of the movement. Thousands of ghouls were rushing over the Eventide, scrambling up the dusty waves and sprinting towards the ship.
There was a rattle of armour as the knights drew scythes and raised shields while the archers rushed into position.
Try him again. Force him.
Maleneth rushed over to Gotrek, who was glowering at the approaching horde.
‘Look how many there are,’ she whispered, leaning close.
‘I can take them.’ He rolled his shoulders with a cracking sound and raised his axe.
At what cost? prompted the voice in her head.
‘At what cost?’ she echoed, waving a knife at the massing shadows. ‘What will be left of you when the fighting is done? You’ll have to call on every ounce of the rune’s power.’
He glared at her, then down at the rune with even more anger.
‘Think about it,’ she said. ‘If these Unburied know half as much as the priestess thinks they do, they may be able to find a way for you to use the rune’s power without giving yourself to Grimnir. Wouldn’t that answer all of your problems?’
Lhosia was standing a few feet away, watching the exchange. ‘I believe they could help,’ she said.
‘Get this ship moving!’ roared Prince Volant, striding across the deck to where his steed was waiting. ‘I will hold them as long as I can.’
‘You’re going out there alone?’ Gotrek looked impressed.
Volant nodded as he mounted the skeleton drake. ‘I won’t lose these souls to those animals.’
The creature spread its skinless wings and pounded them, hanging over the ship as the prince stared down at Gotrek. Volant kicked his steed into motion and rocketed off into the darkness, hurtling towards the approaching horde.
Gotrek watched him go in silence. The rage slipped from his gnarled features, and Maleneth was surprised to see how the prince’s words had moved him.
He respects him, she realised. She looked at the knights waiting around the ship in stoic silence, prepared to die for their ancestors. He likes them.
Light flashed in the darkness as Prince Volant reached the first wave of ghouls. He scythed trails of amethyst through the night, lashing out at the teeming figures beneath him.
‘Archers!’ cried Lord Aurun from a few feet further up the deck. ‘On my order!’
There was a clatter of arrows being nocked.
Gotrek gave Maleneth one last glare, then turned to Lhosia and nodded. ‘Do it quickly. Before I change my mind.’
Stand ready. Watch for him changing. The Stormcast Eternal will try to protect him if he realises what you’re doing.
Trachos was nearby, watching Gotrek and Lhosia in silence.
Maleneth was about to suggest he head below decks to examine the engines, but then she forgot all about him, entranced by the bizarre transformation taking place.
Lhosia had sunk one hand into the cocoon and begun singing. The rag-like covering started to glow, revealing twitching shapes beneath as Lhosia placed her other hand on Gotrek’s rune.
As Lhosia murmured her song, Gotrek’s weathered muscles started to lose their chestnut colour, turning the same ash-white as the cocoon.
‘Grungni’s oath,’ he whispered, his skin becoming a white carapace.
‘Keep still,’ murmured Lhosia. ‘And close your eyes.’
Maleneth had been so amazed by the transformation that she had momentarily forgotten why she had engineered the whole fiasco. She stepped closer, gripping her knives, pleased to see that Trachos was too busy staring at Gotrek to notice what she was doing.
She flinched as a dreadful shriek rang through the night.
Trachos whirled around and the Erebid soldiers staggered, lowering their weapons. Only Lhosia seemed unaffected, so far gone in her ritual that she was oblivious to the noise. Gotrek cursed, but remained still.
Now!
Maleneth ignored her mistress, looking out across the sea for the source of the horrific screech.
There was a flash of purple light, and Volant’s steed hurtled beneath a looming shadow.
The shadow let out another scream, even louder than the first.
Pain seared through Maleneth’s skull. It was like knives jamming into her head.
Aurun ordered to his men to loose their arrows, but the archers were reeling in pain and their shots hit nothing but air.
Gotrek growled, tormented by the sound but unable to cover his ears. As he snarled, the rune in his chest pulsed back into life, scattering glimmers of light between Lhosia’s fingers and sparking in his eye.
‘What’s happening?’ gasped Maleneth as rune-light flashed through Lhosia’s robes, down her arm and into the cocoon.
The figure within flashed like kindling and Lhosia gasped.
The anger faded from Gotrek’s eye as he stared down the deck. ‘I see them,’ he muttered, sounding dazed.
Now!
Maleneth ignored the voice in her head. She had followed Gotrek’s gaze and seen something incredible. Across the ship, every one of the cocoons was lighting up, mirroring the one in Lhosia’s arms and burning with rune-light. The light rippled across the metal deck and shimmered down the pipes that ran under the gunwales.
Something juddered beneath Maleneth’s feet, then settled into a steady rumble.
‘The aether-gold,’ said Trachos, hurrying back to the hatch and vanishing below decks.
Maleneth gasped in agony as the screech sliced into her head again.
Prince Volant was directly overhead, thirty feet or so above the ship’s dome, locked in battle with a grotesque mockery of his own steed – an undead horror, its wings trailing shreds of dead skin and its jaws ripped back in a fixed snarl. This was the source of the dreadful shrieking. The creatures clawed and snapped as Volant lashed out with his scythe.