Copper, verdigris-stained gargoyles vented clouds of steam and tall, crooked towers of black brick spewed choking clouds of pollutants into the atmosphere from great, piston-heaving power plants. Grey figures shuffled through the city and dark, slithering things slipped like shadows through the nightmare streets of the fortress towards the heart of the mountain, where a single, rearing tower of iron stood, its dimensions immense and impossible.
It speared the clouds above, a swirling mass of bruised vaporous energies circling its tallest peak. Thousands of arched firing slits pierced the tower, its base out of sight behind the belching forges clustered before it. Uriel knew that the master of this horrible place must dwell within that awful tower and understood with utter certainty that this was their ultimate destination.
Flocks of the delirium spectres wheeled above the dread tower, their raucous cries echoing weirdly from its tall spires and nameless garrets. Tall peaks of the black mountains swooped high above them, and though it had seemed they walked for many kilometres through the rock of the mountain, the noise of the battle was close, as though they had travelled only a little way.
'How can that be?' said Vaanes, guessing Uriel's thoughts.
'I don't know,' replied Uriel. 'We cannot trust that our senses are not deceived at every turn in this dark place.'
'Uriel, listen, about that tunnel and the things that were said…'
'It doesn't matter. It was the voices, they got inside us and made us say these things.'
Vaanes shook his head. 'What were they? Daemons? Ghosts?'
'I do not know, but we defeated them, Vaanes.'
'You defeated them. You saw through what they were trying to do to us. I almost gave in… I wanted to.'
'But you had the strength to defeat them,' said Uriel. 'That came from inside you, I just reminded you of it.'
'Maybe,' said Vaanes, in a rare moment of confession. 'But I am weak, Ventris. I have not been a Space Marine of the Emperor for many decades now and I do not think I have the strength to be one again.'
'I believe you are wrong,' said Uriel, placing his hand in the centre of Vaanes's breastplate. 'You have heart, and I see courage and honour within you, Vaanes. You have just forgotten who you really are.'
Vaanes nodded curtly, pulling away from his touch without replying, and Uriel just hoped he had been able to convince the former Raven Guard of his own worth. This hellish place would test them all to the very limits of their courage and would seek out any chink in their armour and destroy them if they let it.
He caught Pasanius's eye, but his friend broke the contact just as quickly, turning his back upon Uriel.
'Pasanius,' said Uriel. 'Are you ready to move on?'
The sergeant nodded. 'Aye, there's no telling what might follow us through those tunnels. The sooner we're gone the better.'
Uriel reached up to stop Pasanius as he moved off. 'Are you all right, my friend?'
'Of course,' snapped Pasanius, pushing past Uriel and marching to the top of the winding, uneven stairs. Smooth, black and glassy, they would require careful negotiation if they were to avoid slipping and breaking their necks.
Pasanius led the way down, the Space Marines and the two Guardsmen following gingerly in single file. The clanking workshops of the fortress spat flames and smoke: the pounding of hammers the size of tanks echoing from the blackened walls of the windowless buildings. But over everything hung the leaden weight of the spirit of the iron tower, its dead-windowed stare crushing the soul by its very existence.
As they descended into the fortress, Uriel saw strange creatures of light moving between the vast structures, tall, elegant beings walking on golden stilts that trailed streamers of lambent amber fire. Bizarre carriages were suspended between them, filled with glowing ripples of light and a swirling latticework of cogs and pistons. A procession of these creatures passed through the fortress, but they were soon lost to sight in the illogical maze of the streets.
Huge bulldozers, similar to the bulk-hauler they had commandeered, rumbled through the wider thoroughfares, red and hateful, with tall banner poles hung with eight-pointed stars and iron tenders hitched behind them. Blood sloshed from the tenders, leaving a filthy stream of red in their wake as they made their way from the fighting on the walls to the tower at the centre of the fortress. Twisted limbs jutted from the blood-filled tenders, the corpses in each one jostling against one another as the bulldozers ploughed onwards. As the bodies moved, it was clear from their size and muscle mass, that they were those of Iron Warriors.
'Where are they taking them?' said Leonid.
'For burial perhaps,' suggested Uriel.
'I didn't think the Iron Warriors cared too much about honouring the dead.'
'Nor did I, but why else bring the fallen back inside the walls?'
'Who knows, but I have a feeling we'll be finding out soon,' said Vaanes, gloomily.
'If it is connected to our mission, then yes, you're right,' said Uriel continuing down the stairs to the interior of the fortress. The stone steps reflected the light from the purple clouds above the iron tower and Uriel wondered what dark practices and plans had been hatched within its cold depths. The stairs curled down the diffside of the mountain, widening until they formed a long processional that opened into a bone-flagged esplanade with iron execution poles spaced at regular intervals.
Corpses hung from three of the poles, dry and desiccated, their skin sagging and blotchy. Uriel ignored them, staring into the dark mass of hammering buildings and winding, haunted streets that led towards the tower.
The same emerald glow that suffused the mountain's interior from above was stronger now that they had reached the bottom of the stairs though, the source of its sickly glow was invisible. The manufactories towered above them, the noise of grinding pistons, hissing valves and clanging hammers echoing from all around them and Uriel tasted ash and hot metal on the air.
'Let's go,' said Uriel, as much to galvanise himself into action as to issue an order.
He set off with his bolter at the ready, the Space Marines of the warrior band following close behind him, instinctively falling into a defensive formation with Leonid and Ellard at their centre and all their guns pointing outwards.
A chill of the soul pierced every warrior as they entered the evil shadows of Khalan-Ghol, the chill of plunging into the black waters of an underground lake that has never known the warming touch of a sun. Uriel shivered, feeling a thousand eyes upon him, but seeing nothing and no one moving around them.
'Where are all the people we saw from above?' asked Vaanes.
'I was wondering the same thing,' said Pasanius. 'This place looked well occupied.'
'Perhaps they are hiding from us,' replied Ellard.
'Or perhaps it just seemed occupied,' suggested Uriel, casting wary glances all around him, catching fleeting snatches of movement from in the shadows. 'This place will confound our senses and try to mislead us with illusions and falsehoods. Remember what happened in the tunnel.'
The streets and narrow alleys of Khalan-Ghol twisted at random, zigzagging and twisting around until Uriel could not say for sure which way they were even heading any more. He wished he still had his helmet, but wasn't sure that even its direction finding auspex would be any use here. He couldn't see the iron tower in the cramped streets and had to trust that his instincts were leading them towards it.