Lord of the Night

She knew it was a mistake as soon as she'd said it. The temperature seemed to drop.

'Is that so?' one of them said.

Several figures — blocky shapes with the roiling movements of warriors — slouched to their feet, drawing close with languid menace, lips twisted in scowls.

'I don't think,' one growled, 'that we're in the mood to be taking orders from you.'

'You know I outrank you,' she said, almost keeping the quaver from her voice. The largest of the thugs was all but touching her now, and it was only the psychic pall of amusement from the others that prevented her from staggering away. She refused to give them the satisfaction of another humiliation.

'And you know,' the brute grunted, stabbing a finger against her chest, 'that we could snap you like a twig.'

Prodding her, on reflection, was a mistake.

'I won't tolerate this disrespect any more,' she whispered, as much to herself as to the man, and without warning she raised her knee as hard and fast as she could—

—directly into his crotch.

There was a noise not unlike a damp crunch.

He went down with a gurgle, and that might have been enough to end the matter, perhaps even to gain her a modicum of esteem from the shrieking fool's comrades — had she been finished with him. She was not.

She knelt on his chest and pushed a hand against his forehead, ignoring his cries. She dispensed with subtlety, plunged a dagger of psychic thought into his moronic brain, and needled about until the information she sought rose to the fore. She swam through simple thoughts, hunted down her target, and left with a vindictive kick.

The warrior died with a gasp.

'He's with the governor, then,' Mita said, examining the information she'd extracted. The retinue stared agog mouths hanging open.

'Thanks,' she nodded to the smoking corpse. 'Don't get up.'

Kaustus was waiting for her outside the governor's quarters: successfully taking the indignant wind out of her sails. He'd been forewarned of what she'd done — one of the other retinue members calling ahead, clearly — and hers was not the only foul temper.

'Diota Vasquillius,' he hissed, eyes flashing behind his mask, 'has served me for nine years. I once saw him kill a tyranid carnifex on Saliius-Dictai, loading and firing a lasca

'My lord,' she interrupted, ignoring his bulging eyes. 'I suspect he never faced a witch in a bad mood.'

Kaustus glared at her for long seconds.

'Correct,' he said, finally, and again she felt that strange sense of respect, as though the line between impressing and insulting her master was fine indeed.

'I have news,' she said, pressing her advantage. 'I... I have slept. I have seen where the Traitor Marine i—'

'Interrogator, we have discussed this. I assured you it was being dealt with.'

'There was an attack, my lord! U-upon the spaceport! I saw it! It may still be under way!'

Kaustus eyed her suspiciously, absorbing her words.

'An attack?' he said, and for the first time Mita felt that finally he was taking her seriously.

'Yes! I watched it all! Hundreds died!'

Kaustus half turned away, fingers kneading together. He spoke beneath his breath, and Mita struggled to hear. 'The spaceport...' he muttered. 'Why the spaceport?'

'I... I don't know, my lord.'

He turned back to her as if surprised by her presence, and again she felt that there were elements to this maze she did not understand, pieces moving across a mighty chessboard of which she could witness only a fraction. The certainty was rapidly settling upon her that she could trust the testimony of nobody but herself.

'What should we do, my lord?' she hissed, astonished at her master's display of indecision. Never before had she seen him so affected by a sliver of news, let alone one from her mouth.

'Do?' he muttered. 'I... W-we should... We...' His voice trailed off, his eyes gazing into nothing.

She stared, astonished and frightened by this new Kaustus.

'My lord?'

And then abruptly he was back, eyes focused, voice hard, and it was as if he had never been away.

'We do nothing,' he growled, turning away, gesturing at the gaudily dressed servitor-doorman to the governor's chambers.

'But—'

'But nothing! How many times must I say it, interrogator? It is being dealt with. I have my own methods.'

The door swung open and Kaustus stepped away.

'But — my lord!' her cry caught him on the threshold, and he turned back to regard her from the corner of his eye. 'What of the vision?' she said. 'What of the attack? I ca

He cocked his head, sighing, then nodded to himself.

'You will see to it that our mutual friend Commander Orodai keeps his nerve. There will be no action, do you understand? The attack must go unanswered!'

She glared down the length of his pointed finger, brandished like a gun, and swallowed.

She wanted to shriek: But why?

She wanted to grip him by his peacock-lapels and shake him until he gave her the answers she wanted. Needed.

She wanted to understand what in the name of Terra's arse he was playing at.

But more than anything she wanted his approval and his respect, so once more she dipped in a bow, swallowed her objections, and said: 'Yes, my lord. The Emperor prevails.'

'Indeed he does, interrogator. Be about your duties.'

The door began to close. Mita pounced upon her one final chance like a famished tiger.

'My lord?'

This time he did not turn back. 'Yes, interrogator?'

'I... Before, when I was in the gallery, and... and I thought I felt the traitor's presence...?'

'Yes?'

'Was... was I drugged, my lord?'

His pause was a fraction too long.

'Don't be ridiculous,' he said. 'You fainted again. It is a habit you should learn to control.'

He closed the door behind him.

Mita Ashyn was begi

She returned to Cuspseal with a sense of urgency, vying with confusion for dominance. Accompanied once more by Cog, she tolerated the elevator descent with cracking patience and raced upon her arrival to Orodai's offices, to carry out her master's orders. That she neither understood nor agreed with them was irrelevant. This time, she vowed, passing stammering vindictor clerks and objecting doormen, she would not fail. Orodai's office was empty.

She was too late.

In the wake of the assault upon the starport, unwilling to endure one more attack upon his Preafectus Vindictaire, and eschewing the assistance of the Inquisition whose presence he was quickly growing to resent, Commander Orodai had mustered as many of his lawmen as he could, had mobilised the precinct's entire complement of armoured vehicles, and had personally led a battle-group a thousand strong into the darkness below Cuspseal.

Mita had failed. Again.

War was coming to the underhive.