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The fierce blizzard over Clexus may have blinded Abaddon's pursuit, but it did not stop it.
The Despoiler dispatched several Heldrake squadrons to hunt down the survivors.
If his gene-father Horus was among them, so much the better. Abaddon had already moved the Planet Killer into position above the planet. He intended to use a lethal bombardnt to send the survivors and his gene-father together to et the false Emperor on the Golden Throne.
"A bunch of fools! Every last one of them!"
When word ca from the Heldrake squadrons that the survivors had been located, Abaddon laughed out loud from the throne of the Vengeful Spirit.
That Archmagos was truly an idiot too. He had a perfectly good starship and chose instead to seek death on foot across Clexus.
On the surface, the group pressed on.
House Raven's Knights took the air defense role. They waved the others forward and held the rear, absorbing the Heldrake assault themselves.
Cawl's group said nothing and kept moving, following the Living Saint's lead.
The blizzard was savage. It stung Kaelen's face raw and made every breath a fight. Seeing this, Horus moved ahead of him and took the wind, shielding him with his body. Kullen stayed at his flank, eyes on the sky, watching for anything coming from above.
"How much longer to the summit?"
Kaelen called out.
"Soon — we're already at the base!"
Kullen shouted back, pitching his voice above the storm.
"Kaelen, are you certain the Aeldari Webway gate is up there?"
"It will be! They'll help us!"
They climbed. The going was brutal, but they made the summit.
At the top, the blizzard eased. The world sharpened around them.
The ancient structure's gate was deeply recessed into the rock, its surface worn glass-smooth by centuries of wind. A sorcerous coven had taken it. They fought for it, and they won it, but the smoke rising from the wrecked Predator tank was a beacon anyone could read. Before the last sorcerer dropped, the sound of engines rolled up from the valley below.
The Black Legion was right behind them.
Kaelen watched the vehicles co, black beetles swarming across the ice toward them. Not many. Enough. Their job was to slow the survivors down and buy ti for the Planet Killer to arrive.
Saint Celestine stepped to his side.
"Kaelen. What do you see?"
"Death," he said. "Despair."
He turned and looked at her directly, and smiled.
"But there's hope in the despair. Death is going to miss us."
The words were barely out of his mouth when a blinding radiance detonated across the ice. Lethal fire tore into the advancing Black Legion. Shattering beams of light followed, vivid colors spinning and reassembling around warriors who leapt and twisted through the carnage.
Aeldari.
The Black Legion broke under the assault. They were already few, and against this many Harlequin elites they were nothing. They crumbled.
Every Imperial soldier present, except Kaelen and his small circle, stared. None of them had expected this. Their rescuers were the Aeldari, one of the Imperium's oldest and most hated enemies.
Aboard the Vengeful Spirit, Abaddon received the news and erupted. He ordered more Black Legion forces to drop and pin the survivors in place until the Planet Killer arrived.
Too late.
The Emissary Yvraine and her bodyguard the Visarch stepped forward to et Cawl and the others. Beside them stood a figure Cawl recognized: the Shadowseer.
"What is the aning of this?"
Cawl's voice was flat and careful.
Around him, weapons ca up. The Black Templars leveled their bolters at the three Aeldari. The Battle Sisters and Kasrkin elites followed. Inquisitor Greyfax trained her master-crafted bolt crossbow on Yvraine. Beneath their cloaks, Horus and Kullen had already drawn their weapons, ready for whatever ca next.
"To take you away," the Shadowseer said.
"Where?"
"Toward the light of dawn."
The Shadowseer tilted her head. These humans baffled her. The Harlequins had just saved their lives, and still they stood here demanding explanations.
"Unless you would prefer to remain in the dark?"
Cawl did his best to ignore what he hoped was an attempt at humor. The practical question remained.
"Abaddon's fleet is already above this planet. We have no way out. Do you have a fleet to hold them back?"
"No," Yvraine said. Her High Gothic was precise and clean. "We have no need of one."
As she spoke, her gaze drifted across the crowd and passed lightly over the tall, cloaked figure at the back. It did not linger.
Kaelen caught it.
So the Emissary had already foreseen Horus's return. Smart of her not to announce it. She'd seen the Shepherd of Wolves standing right there and said nothing.
"The endga is past," Yvraine said. "This is a new beginning. If you humans have the courage, we Aeldari are willing to negotiate with you again."
She raised the Crone Sword and swept it in a single arc. The ancient gate shuddered and began to move.
"Please, honored human guests. We will take you to the Lord of Ultramar."
The Living Saint and the Archmagos looked at each other. They nodded. Then they turned and called every Imperial soldier present into formation, and the whole group followed Yvraine and her companions through the gate and into the Webway. Once the last survivor was through, the Aeldari host vanished with them.
Abaddon brought the Planet Killer over the planet monts later. He looked down at the surface.
Empty. Not a soul.
His expression went dark enough to curdle.
He roared.
"Move on Macragge imdiately! Kill Roboute Guilliman before they get there!"
----------
Inside the Webway, the world was sothing else entirely.
Wraithbone passages coiled through the void in defiance of every physical law. Outside, the Warp raged. In here, it was reduced to strange, fractured blocks of color pressing against the walls like sothing caged.
"The Webway," Kaelen murmured, almost to himself. "The Webway the Emperor spent everything trying to reach."
In the Master of Mankind's grand design, this had always been the true goal. With the Webway, humanity could do what the Aeldari had failed to do, seal itself off from the Warp entirely, and survive. The Great Crusade had two purposes: unify the human race, and gather the resources to build a new passage beneath the Golden Throne that would connect to this place.
"No wonder Father returned to the Throneworld after Ullanor," Horus said quietly. "So many didn't understand it. I didn't understand it. He left without a word and went back to Terra."
"If not for Magnus's folly, the Emperor would never have needed the Throne," Kullen said. The bitterness in his voice was old and deep. "The Heresy could have been crushed quickly."
"It couldn't be helped." Kaelen's tone was even. "When Magnus saw Lupercal fall, he had to warn the Emperor. That was his duty as a loyal son. The gods just used him to do it."
He paused.
"One psychic ssage shattered the Golden Throne. Then the information gap did the rest. Russ and the Space Wolves brought about the Burning of Prospero. Because of that, Malcador took the Emperor's place on the Throne so the Emperor could go and face the arch-corrupted Shepherd of Wolves himself. And Malcador burned to ash for it."
Kaelen pulled at the corner of his mouth.
"The glorious Great Crusade. Ending in a tragedy like that." He shook his head. "Fate makes fools of everyone."
"But I ca back." Horus's voice was quiet. His eyes were not. A fire burned in them, steady and unyielding. "We ca back."
"And we will not let it happen again."
"I believe that," Kaelen said, and smiled. "My Wolf God."
"On Macragge, we et the turning point."
➤ Next: The Best Mont to Make an Entrance
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