The swordsman pivoted smoothly on his heel and drove his blade, two-handed, into Praal's golden chest, the sword burning through his armour, ribs and internal organs.

Praal dropped to his knees, still alive, his mouth working dumbly as blood sprayed from the massive wound. Lucius twisted the blade, relishing the cracks as Praal's ribs snapped.

He put a foot on Praal's body and pulled the sword clear, standing triumphant over the body of his fallen enemy.

Around him, the Emperor's Children slew the remaining palace guards, but with Praal dead, the song in his blood diminished and his interest in the fight faded. Lucius turned to the throne itself, already aching for the music to surge through his body once again.

The throne's back was to him and he couldn't see who was seated there. A control panel worked furiously before it, like a monstrously complicated clockwork keyboard.

Lucius stepped around the throne and looked into the glassy eyes of a servitor.

Its head was mounted on a skinny body of metal armatures, the complex innards stripped out and replaced with brass clockwork. Chattering metal tines reached from the chest cavity to read the music printed in the books mounted around the throne and the servitor's hands, elaborate, twenty-fingered constructions of metal and wire, flickered over the control panel.

Without Praal, the music was out of tune and time, its syncopated rhythms falling apart, Lucius knew that this was a poor substitute for what had fuelled his battle with Praal.

Suddenly angry beyond words, Lucius brought his blade down in a glittering arc, shattering the control panel in a shower of orange sparks. The hideous music transformed into a howling death shriek, shaking the stone petals of the palace with its terrible deafening wail before fading like a forgotten dream.

The music of creation ended and all across Isst-van the voices of the gods were silenced.

д VOLLEY OF gunfire caught Loken's attention as he desperately fought the dozens of guards who stabbed at him with their gleaming halberds. Behind him, Torgaddon brought the speartip up into a firing line, and bolter fire battered against the black iron of Death's mausoleum. The Warsinger was broken like a dying bird against the statue of Father Isstvan.

The Warsinger fell, her final scream tailing off as her shattered form cracked against the ornate carvings of Death's mausoleum.

'She's down!' said Torgaddon's voice over the vox, sounding surprised at the ease with which she had been killed.

'Who have we lost?' asked Loken, as. the enemy soldiers fell back at the Warsinger's death, suspecting that there was more to this withdrawal than simply her death. Something fundamental had changed on Isstvan, but he didn't yet know what.

'Most of Squad Chaggrat,’ replied Torgaddon, and plenty of others. We won't know until we get °ut of here, but there's something else...'

'What?' asked Loken.'

'Lachost says we've lost contact with orbit,’ said Torgaddon. 'There's no signal. It's as if the Vengeful Spirit isn't even up there,’

That's impossible,’ said Loken, looking around for the familiar sight of Sergeant Lachost.

He saw him at the edge of the charnel pit and marched over to him. Torgaddon and Vipus followed him and Torgaddon said, 'Impossible or not, it's what he tells me,’

'What about the rest of the strike force?' asked Loken, crouching beside Lachost. 'What about the palace?'

'We're having more luck with them,’ replied Lachost. 'I managed to get through to Captain Ehrlen of the World Eaters. It sounds like they're outside the palace. It's an absolute massacre over there -, thousands of civilians dead,’

'In the name of Terra!' said Loken, imagining the World Eaters' predilection for massacre and the rivers of blood that would be flowing through the streets of the Choral City. 'Have they managed to contact anyone in orbit?'

They've got their hands full, captain,’ replied Lachost. 'Even if they've managed to raise the Conqueror, they're in no position to relay anything from us. I could barely get anything out of Ehrlen other than that he was killing them with his bare hands,’ 'And the palace?'

'Nothing, I can't get through to Captain Lucius of the Emperor's Children. The palace has been

playing hell with communications ever since they went in. There was some kind of music, but nothing else,’

Then try the Death Guard. They've got the Dies Irae with them, we can use it to relay for us,’ 'I'll try, sir, but it's not looking hopeful,’ This was supposed to be over by now,’ spat Loken. 'The Choral City isn't just going to collapse with their leaders dead. Maybe the World Eaters have the right idea. We're going to have to kill them all. We need the second wave down here now and if we can't even speak to the Warmaster this is going to be a very long campaign,’ 'I'll keep trying,’ said Lachost. We need to link up with the rest of the strike force,’ said Loken. 'We're cut off here. We need to make for the palace and find the World Eaters or the Emperor's Children. We're not doing any good sitting here. All we're doing is giving the Isstvanians a chance to surround us,’

'There're a lot of soldiers between us and the rest of the strike force,’ Torgaddon pointed out.

Then we advance in force. We won't take this city by waiting to be attacked,’

'Agreed. I saw the main gates along the western walls. We can get into the city proper there, but it'll be a tough slog,’ 'Good,’ said Loken.

'IT'S A TRAP,' said Mersadie. 'It has to be,’ 'You're probably right,’ agreed Sindermann.

'Of course I'm right,’ said Mersadie. 'Maloghurst tried to have Euphrati killed. His pet monster, Mag-gard, almost killed you too, remember?'

'I remember very well,’ said Sindermann, 'but think of the opportunity. There will be thousands there and they couldn't possibly try anything with that many people around. They probably won't even notice we're there,’

Mersadie looked down her nose at Sindermann, unable to believe that the old iterator was being so dense. Had he not spoken to hundreds of people only hours before of the Warmaster's perfidy? And now he wanted to gather in a room with him?

They had been woken from their slumbers by one of the engineering crew who pressed a rolled leaflet into Sindermann's shaking hand. Sharing a worried glance with Mersadie, Sindermann had read it. It was a decree from the Warmaster authorising all remembrancers to gather in the Vengeful Spirit's main audience chamber to bear witness to the final triumph on Isstvan III. It spoke of the gulf that had, much to the Warmaster's great sorrow, opened between the Astartes and the remembrancers. With this one, grand gesture, the Warmaster hoped to allay any fears that such a gulf had been engineered deliberately

'He must think we are stupid,’ said Mersadie. 'Does he really think we would fall for this?'

'Maloghurst is a very cunning man,’ said Sindermann, rolling up the leaflet and placing it on the bed. 'You'd hardly take him for a warrior any more.

He's trying to flush the three of us out, hoping that no remembrancer could resist such an offer. If I were a less moral man I might admire him,’

'All the more reason not to fall into his trap!' exclaimed Mersadie.

'Ah, but what if it's genuine, my dear?' asked Sindermann. 'Imagine what we'd see on the surface of Isstvan III!'

'Kyril, this is a big ship and we can hide out for a long time. When Loken comes back he can protect us,’

'Like he protected Ignace?'

That's not fair, Kyril,’ said Mersadie. 'Loken can help us get off the ship once we leave the Isstvan system,’

'No,’ said a voice behind Mersadie and they both turned to see Euphrati Keeler. She was awake again, and her voice was stronger than Mersadie had heard it for a long time. She looked healthier than she had been since the terror in the archive. To see her standing, walking and talking after so long was still a novelty for Mersadie and she smiled to see her friend once again.