More rusty metal came away, but there was no sign of the thing turning.
The tunnel was shaken by another booming blow, and the sound was now so loud that there was no mistaking the truth – something big was headed their way.
Trachos handed her his sceptre and took something else from his belt. It looked like a sapphire encased in silver, and as he raised it over his head, light shimmered in the heart of the stone. With his other hand, he unclasped his helmet and removed it, letting his white plaits tumble down his breastplate.
Maleneth gasped at the sight of his face. It was even more brutal than the last time she had seen it – the mass of old scars had been joined by a new kind of injury. In several places, the rough mahogany of his skin had changed, covered now by a tracery of silver capillaries that glittered and flashed as he moved. There were pulses of light blinking across his cheeks and jaw where the silver threads were most numerous.
‘What’s happening to you?’ she said, but Trachos did not seem to hear. His eyes were closed, and he pressed the blue gemstone to his forehead.
The walls shook again. ‘Whatever that is, it’s close,’ she muttered.
Trachos was mouthing words. He took the stone away from his face and shook his head, looking at Maleneth. ‘This is the only way.’ He returned the stone to his belt and turned back to the rusted door. ‘There is no other route back to the main sewer.’
The water was up to Maleneth’s chin by this point, and she cursed. The wheel that opened the door was now completely submerged. She ducked under the surface and tried to grab it, but her hands could not even grip it in the filthy water.
‘What now?’ she gasped as she stood back up.
Trachos shook his head, looking at the wall of rubble behind them. ‘We could try digging.’
She laughed, stepping on some broken bricks and hauling herself a little further away from the quickly rising water.
The walls shook with so much fury that she fell. From underwater she saw Trachos stagger backwards, away from the rusty door, bathed in light and trying to shield his un-armoured face.
She leapt back up out of the water and came face to face with a demented, blood-splattered snarl.
‘What are you two playing at?’ yelled Gotrek, framed by the door he had just destroyed. ‘I have a god to slay.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Flesh-Eater Court
‘I’m touched that you came back for us,’ said Maleneth as the Slayer dragged her through the remains of the door.
Gotrek ignored her, grimacing at the sparking silver veins shimmering across Trachos’ face. ‘Grungni’s teeth. No wonder you wear a hat.’
Trachos looked puzzled, reaching up to touch his cheek.
Maleneth staggered on up the pipe, struggling to keep her head above water. ‘Can we compare wounds later?’
For a while they were swimming more than walking, but eventually they reached another intersection and tumbled back down into the main sewer, sliding and bouncing over the rubble until they landed with a crash at the bottom of the main concourse.
The water was only about a foot deep, and they sat there for a while panting and coughing. Even the Slayer seemed tired, leaning back against a broken support strut and massaging his massive forearms.
‘If you two stop dawdling we might reach that tower before the whole city comes down.’ He waved his axe at the various openings that led off the main pipe. ‘I hope for your sake that you know which way to go, manling.’
Trachos was studying his reflection in the surface of his helmet and muttering to himself.
‘It won’t get any less ugly,’ said Gotrek. ‘Can you get us to the tower or not?’
Trachos fixed his helmet back in place and nodded. ‘You only needed to keep going straight on. I told you, the main sewer leads from the tower.’
Gotrek shrugged and climbed to his feet. ‘Let’s get moving then.’
‘But you already knew that,’ said Maleneth. ‘Trachos told us the route when we first came down here.’ She gave the Slayer a wry smile. ‘You were still in the main tunnel. You weren’t lost. You didn’t need to come back for us. I think you missed us.’
Gotrek glared at her, then stomped off up the tunnel. ‘I just wanted to make sure I didn’t wander around down here till doomsday.’
Maleneth winced as she stood and stumbled after him. Every inch of her was bruised and cut, and she could not remember the last time she had eaten.
‘Aelves,’ snorted Gotrek. ‘No stamina.’
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘Every time I start to think you might be slightly interesting, you open your mouth. Then I remember that you’re an irascible infant trapped in the body of an ale-infused boar.’
Gotrek snorted and spat. ‘What’s an irascible?’
‘Don’t play the fool,’ she muttered. ‘You’re absurd enough.’
‘It’s stopped again!’ called Trachos.
They looked back down the pipe and saw that he had halted near one of the holes spilling light down from the streets above.
‘The bone rain has stopped,’ he said, shining his torch across the opening.
‘What of it?’ said Gotrek, walking back to him. ‘You said the sewers were the most direct way.’
‘But they’re flooding.’ Trachos waved his light over the water rising all around them. ‘It’s not as high yet as it was in the smaller tunnels, but it will be soon. And this whole structure is unstable. Whatever has been shaking the city has dislodged the foundations.’
He waded to the far side of the tunnel and shoved a fallen column.
Gotrek and Maleneth backed away as the masonry toppled towards them, smashing against the edge of the opening above and creating a crumbling ramp back up to the street.
Gotrek barged past her and clambered up the column. ‘Keep up, aelf. You don’t want pretty boy fishing this rune out of my corpse while you’re still swimming with turds.’
She gripped her knives tighter as she climbed up after him, amazed to think that she had actually been pleased to see his face a few minutes ago.
They emerged to a scene of such desolation that it halted them in their tracks.
The storm had been brief but apocalyptic. Roofs had collapsed and windows had shattered, and scattered across the streets in every direction, people were crawling through the wreckage, clutching wounds or sobbing over the corpses of their kin.
Even Gotrek looked shocked. The tower at the city’s heart was burning brighter than ever, bathing everything in the amethyst pall of death magic, and the desolation was terrible to look at.
Gotrek grimaced at the wounded and the dying. ‘The prince could have got them underground quicker. This could have been avoided.’ He nodded at the tower. ‘Looks like something big is happening in there.’ He rushed across the street, clambering over wrecked carts and carriages and ignoring the pitiful figures heaped around him.
As Maleneth and Trachos staggered after him, he dropped down into an empty street and hurried past the facade of what looked to be a temple, wrought of the same pale, bone-like curves as the other buildings they had seen. There were broad, sweeping steps leading up to it, and dozens of wounded people were sprawled across them, obviously struck down before they had managed to reach the temple doors.
Maleneth and Trachos tried to keep pace with Gotrek, but they were both carrying dozens of injuries, and by the time they dropped down into the street, he was far in the distance, running down a broad, empty boulevard that led to the foot of the tower.
People were sprawled all around them, groaning in pain and fear, both soldiers and civilians, cut apart and defenceless – and ghouls were rushing towards them from every direction.