Chapter 5 The Circle of Consonance, Arx Angelicum, Baal.

Chapter five

The Circle of Consonance, Arx Angelicum, Baal.

The Quorum Empyrric had gathered deep in the undercroft of the Carceri Arcanum – the place Mephiston was most likely to be found when not ensconced in his own chambers. The gloomy, brick-built vaults were one of the oldest parts of the Librarium and they were a good match for his saturnine character – dark, labyrinthine and unwelcoming. It was also here that the Blood Angels kept their most dangerous relics, so it seemed a sensible place for the Chief Librarian to spend his hours. It was Mephiston the Chapter Master would turn if any of the items locked in the Carceri were to ever gain their freedom.

The Quorum Empyrric was Mephiston's conclave of trusted advisors, consisting of his most powerful Librarians as well as other distinguished officers of the Chapter. These luminaries were seated around Mephiston on a circle of stone chairs in the central chamber of the undercroft, a meeting place known as the Circle of Consonance. They had been summoned to discuss the terrible events of the Ostensorio.

The ceiling of the undercroft had crumbled away many centuries earlier and a column of green, moss-infused light poured down from the halls above, giving the scene a subaqueous quality. Mephiston was staring into this emerald tower of light, studying dust motes as they flashed and danced. He seemed akin to the dust. The abyssal light made his sunken features as ghoulish as anything in the surrounding crypts. He looked to Mariah as a loyal friend.

If Mariah had wished to, she could have used her enhanced vision to discern the distant, domed ceiling of the upper levels, hundreds of feet above. At present however, she was oblivious to the tumbledown beauty of the ruined cellars; she was thinking instead of the elevated company she was keeping. The summons that Mephiston promised her on Thermia V had finally come, but she had expected the meeting to be as grand as this.

She glanced around the circle, wondering if anyone would dare to question the Chief Librarian on the madness he had unleashed in the Ostensorio. Epistolary Rhacelus showed no sign of concern, of course, despite having locked horns with the behemoth that destroyed half the Ostensorio. Mephiston's equerry was as venerable and immobile as his ancient stone chair. He was watching the Chief Librarian with the same expression of haughty disdain he always wore – nostrils flared as though smelling something unpleasant, lip curled, one eyebrow raised. He was unarmoured but the lack of greaves and pauldrons did not make him look any more human. He was as perfectly made as all Blood Angels. Beneath his simple red surplice, the iron hard architecture of his massive, superhuman physique was visible. But like all of his kind, he displayed a perfection that was almost disturbing when seen close up. He had the exaggerated, imperious features of a classical statue, Rhacelus was ancient, even by Blood Angels standards, and not above reminding his subordinates of the fact. Mariah had heard him describe his role in conflicts that were footnotes in some of the Librarium's oldest texts. His white hair was oiled and gleaming, and the harsh angles of his jaw were softened by a short, silver beard, but the years had left a more unusual mark on him. So many centuries of staring into the immaterium had given his eyes a strange, cobalt sheen. They were iridescent like the eyes of a cat, flickering as though lit from behind. He raised his hand in a slow, regal movement and a scrum of robed blood thralls rush from the shadows. He took a chalice from a proffered tray, sipped from it, then dismissed the servants with a wave of his finger.

Seated near the Librarians of the Librarius was the veteran battle-brother, Captain Vatrenus. As Mariah looked his way she guessed that Vatrenus would be the one to challenge Mephiston's actions. Unlike Epistolary Rhacelus, Captain Vatrenus could not hide his outrage at what had happened in the Ostensorio. There were a few fresh scratches on his Mark VII plate, but it was his face that showed the real impact of the fight. His jaw was jutting out and his deep-set eyes were simmering beneath his heavy brow. The idea that the Arx Angelicum could be attacked in such a way had left him wide-eyed with indignation. For the moment, Captain Vatrenus held his ire in check, so Mariah turned from the battle-brothers of the Fourth Company and looked at the one member of the Quorum Empyrric no seated in a chair. Scholiast Imola was the most senior Chapter-serf in the Librarium – oldest of all the scholiasts. The Chief Librarian had spoken often of Imola's fathomless wisdom and despite being human she was regularly admitted to his inner council.

Imola's ancient form was preserved in an ornate, bronze casket called an embryon, which had been carried to the meeting in a mechanical palanquin that walked on dozens of hydraulic legs. The top of the palanquin was a seething nest of serpentine limbs. Clad in ribbed steel and ending in a mixture of styluses, claws and lenses that cradled the little chest. The centre of the casket was filled with crimson liquid, but it was just possible to make out her small, foetal shape floating in the solution – pale, blind and suspended by rubber umbilical cords.

Mariah turned her gaze to the other side of the circle, and the only non-Baalite members of the meeting. The emissaries of the Adeptus Ministorum lacked the martial perfection of the Space Marines, but they were imbued with another, equally potent power – a faith so furious that it inured them to the simple privations of the flesh. A mixture of passion and devotion radiated from their bleached faces, as vivid as the light shining from Rhacelus' eyes. Two of them were present and the third appeared in the form of a flickering hololith. The projected priest was the same senior prelate Mariah had seen in the Ostensorio and he had been introduced to the quorum as Confessor Zin. Zin's image was hanging a few feet above the ground, at the centre of the circle of stone chairs. His likeness was now life-sized, rather than the colossal figure Mariah had witnessed in the Ostensorio.

"My Lord Mephiston," said Captain Vatrenus, unable to hold back his outrage any longer. "We have assured you that all necessary measures have been taken to secure the Ostensorio. Epistolary Rhacelus has spoken at great lengths of the psychic wards he has employed to seal the breach in real space and I have detailed work of my squads." His tone was bullish. "Chief Librarian, will you explain what you were attempting? I do not understand much of what occurs in the Librarius, but this was more shocking than anything I have seen before. My lord," he said, making no effort to hide his disapproval. "What was so important that you would risk the sanctity of our fortress-monastery?"

Mephiston fixed his gaze on Captain Vatrenus. "They were vermin," he said quietly. "Nothing more. The Arx Angelicum was never in danger." His words flowed into each other, heavy with an odd mixture of accents, making it hard to catch his meaning.

"Lord Mephiston," said the hololith of confessor Zin, his jowly features trembling. "Perhaps I could help illuminate your council on why you risked such hazardous methods?"

Vatrenus looked appalled by the mere existence of the priest, but Mephiston gave him a vague nod.

Zin's eyes flashed triumphantly and he cast his gaze around the members of the quorum "Noble lords and lady of the Librarius, Mephiston has admitted me into this most sagacious gathering because the time has come for plain speech. You should know that I have seen your master's name written in the funeral pyres of a thousand loyal souls. For nearly a decade, the God-Emperor has filled my dreams with visions of Mephiston, and Mephiston alone, calling me hither. Lords and Lady of the Librarius, you should know that it has been prophesied that Lord Mephiston is the Astra Angelus." Zin's hand trembled as he snatched a medallion hung around his neck and held it up as though it explained his words. The design was impossible to make out through the interference of the transmission, but he waved it at them as proof. "Ten long years ago, the jewel of the Cronian sector, Divinus Prime, was stolen from the Light of the Emperor – snatched from the sight of even the most determined astropathic choirs. But it has been written in the blood of our holy martyrs that Mephiston will one day lead us back there – lead us to the site of our most hallowed shrines. What you saw in the Ostensorio was proof that this could be done. Mephiston has travelled through the immaterium unaided."

Captain Vatrenus glanced at Epistolary Rhacelus, disbelief clearly written across his face. His eyes widened in shock as Rhacelus looked calmly back at him, confirming the priest's outlandish claim through silent assent.

Zin raised his voice, perhaps sensing the Captain' doubt even from across the galaxy. "Every one of my visions and prophecies has proven to be true. The ritual in the Ostensorio achieved something incredible and divine. Your lord travelled safely through the warp and located the stolen world of Divinus Prime. He has pinpointed the location of a place the rest of the imperium cannot even see."

Zin lowered his medallion and collapsed back in his chair, exhausted by his own fervour, looking expectantly at Mephiston to continue the tale.

The Chief Librarian remained silent and Zin leaned closer, triggering a burst of interference that sheared his head, creating s double-headed, shimmering phantom. "Lord Mephiston, will you not tell us all what you saw? I have travelled across half the galaxy to see you. I have faced..." His words faltered. "I have faced things that I will not easily forget and lost many friends, but I will reach Baal within days Mephiston." His tone became desperate. "And now I am so close, I beg you to tell me what you have learned. You have achieved the impossible, but what did you see, my lord? I must know!"

Mariah brindled at the priest's tone. For a mortal to demand information from one of the Space Marine Chapters was shocking, but to speak in such away to the Chief Librarian of the Blood Angels was incredible. Mariah saw that she was not the only one to note the break with protocol. Captain Vatrenus' face had flushed a dangerous red and he had clenched his teeth together with the strain of staying quiet.

Mephiston remained motionless. He paid no attention to the priest and continued watching the spiralling dust with a cold, reptilian stillness.

"Divinus Prime is no ordinary world!" whispered Confessor Zin, attempting to snap Mephiston out of his reverie. "i must know how we can recover it."

The two other priest's echoed the words "Divinus Prime" in awed whispers

"We are at the very gates of damnation, Astra Angelus," continued Zin. "The very gates." He plucked a leather bound book from his robes and began quoting from it, his voice shaking with passion. "On the banks of Esomino, before the walls of Volgatis, was his wrath made manifest"

"His wrath" whispered the other priests

"Five times five hundred were the foes he cast unto the earth," continued Zin. "Five times five were the walls that toppled before his voice. Behold, the brazen beasts of the -"

"Confessor Zin," interrupted Mephiston, finally breaking his silence. There was something dangerous about his soft tones and the priests hushed. Then Mephiston seemed to notice something odd about his hand. It was clenched into a fist but Mephiston stared at it as though he had not willed his fingers to close. He paused, neglecting to finish his sentence as he slowly opened his fingers and placed his hand back on the arm of the chair.

"Yes?" demanded Zin.

After a few seconds, Mephiston looked up from his hand and continued in the same flat, dispassionate voice "You need not quote the Vicissitudes in its entirety." There was no anger in his voice, just quietly stated a face "I have read all five translations." He nodded at the book in Zin's hands. "Uliarus missed most of the original intent but I have a copy of the Pindarus I could lend you."

Epistolary Rhacelus snorted in amusement but Zin's disappointment changed to frustration. "What did you see, Chief Librarian?" he snapped. "What did you find? You were gone for twelve days. What has happened to Divinus Prime?"

"This is too much," growled Captain Vatrenus, leaning forwards in his chair and glancing at Zin. "You will not speak to the Chief Librarian in such a way."

Mephiston raised a hand and Mariah saw that he was listening to a distant voice. She could even hear the exact words, lisping and hissing in her lord's thoughts. They were spoken in ragged tones. We are what our scars made us. We are born in blood. The words were accompanied by a familiar vision: the same lidless, flayed, veiled face Mariah had seen on Thermia. The words and the face vanished as quickly as they came and Mariah had realised that she had read Mephiston's thoughts again. The idea unnerved her. Mephiston's mind was not for her to see. Such insight was heretical.

"Your Cardinal world still exists, Confessor Zin," Mephiston said, looking at the priest directly for the first time and moving forwards so that the light spilled across his face. Mephiston's features must once have matched the beauty of the other Blood Angels, but his face was now a shattered death mask: a bleached collision of jagged angles and harsh lines, all pointing to his intense, unblinking eyes.

Zin's hololith squirmed and looked away, visibly shaken by Mephiston's gaze. "Are you sure? Divinus Prime is safe?"

Mephiston raised an eyebrow. "Safe? No. Is is not safe. Nothing in the Cronian Sector is safe, Confessor Zin. You of all people should know that. The wars of Sanctitude are no nearer completion than when we began prosecuting them, a century ago, but..." He paused and looked into the shadows. "But Divinus Prime still exists. I spent several hours there." He frowned in distaste. "It is a mess, like the rest of the sector."

The priests made the sign of the Aquila at this and looked aghast, and Confessor Zin stared across the galaxy, attempting to look Mephiston in the eye. Even as a projection, there was no mistaking his alarm.

"Divinus Prime is hallowed ground," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "It is forbidden to all... all but the most senior members of the Ecclesiarchy. With respect, my lord, you were never given permission to go there."

Aloof as he was, even Rhacelus balked at the words "given permission." "You asked the Chief Librarian to find your world, Confessor Zin," he drawled, not deigning to look at the priest, "and he found it." His words washed across the gathering, gravelly and languid. "A little gratitude might suit you better than this disrespect."

Zin's eyes widened in fear, but he bit back a reply. He looked at someone else in the strategium of the frigate that was hurling him towards Baal. He nodded and turned back to Mephiston. When he spoke again, it was with a more emollient tone. "The priest I saw you holding in the sacristy, my lord – was he from Divinus Prime? Was he one of my own order?"

Mephiston nodded. "Prester Kohath." The look of distaste remained on his face. "A luckless pawn, caught up in a pointless schism, confused by his own transgressions."

"transgressions? Schisms?" exclaimed Zin. "I assure you, Chief Librarian, there are no heretics on Divinus Prime. It is not possible."

Mephiston held up his hand. "The sector is dancing to a tune not of our making, Confessor. Would that it were otherwise." He shrugged. "But I did not say Prester Kohath was a heretic. The idea of heresy had barely taken shape in his mind when I lifted him from his home." Mephiston glanced passed the hololith and looked directly at Mariah.

Mariah stiffened as Mephiston's corpse-cold eyes locked on to hers. Mephiston was reading her mind, checking to see if any one was after the Primarch's daughter, or trying to get at her without going through him and the Blood Angel army.

Mariah tried to stay calm as Rhacelus and the other Librarians watched her with grim countenances.

"Then he still lives?" asked Confessor Zin, ignorant of the glances being directed at Mariah. "You have a survivor from Divinus Prime here, in your Librarium?" Hope kindled in his red-rimmed eyes and he clutched his medallion, mouthing a prayer. "I would beg that you hand him to my brethren immediately," he said. "And then you can fulfil the holy mission allocated to you by the God-Emperor himself, by showing me how I may find the banks of Esomino, and the sacred gates of Volgatis."

Mephiston continued to look at Mariah. "Prester Kohath glimpsed the corner of a truth and believed it to be dreadful, but truths are only dreadful when one is unable to understand the entire form." He spoke in the same quiet, impenetrable tone he always used.

"Chief Librarian," groaned Zin "Do you realise how you're tormenting me? You talk of transgressions and schisms, while refusing to give me a direct answer. Can you lead us to Divinus Prime. We cannot simply abandon our brethren to the mysteries of the warp. The vow must be honoured. We must find a way to bring them home."

For the first time since the conclave began. Mephiston focused all of his attention on the priest. Something flickered in his eyes and he sat upright in his chair. "The vow?"

Confessor Zin looked away with an awkward expression. "Just like men those poor souls on Divinus Prime swore to serve the God-Emperor."

Mephiston fell quiet again, but this was a different kind of silence. He was staring at the sweating priest, his whole body rigid with concentration. He tilted his head back and a crimson sheen washed over his eyes. They became featureless red orbs, giving Mephiston an even more disturbing appearance. Confessor Zin looked anxiously to his unseen advisors for guidance.

Mephiston blinked back the blood from his eyes and looked at the two priests who were in the chamber. His whole demeanour had changed. The full, unnerving force of his gaze was now locked on the members of the quorum. It was as though he had emerged from a drug-induced haze.

When he spoke to Zin again, his voice was clear and distinct. "The name Astra Angelus is unfamiliar to me, Confessor Zin, and I have never seen the banks of Esomino, but your visions have not lead you astray. I do see the world you have lost. And I may be willing to help. We will talk more when you reach Baal."

Zin looked panicked as he realised he was being dismissed. "Chief Librarian! I have not finished. I beg that you listen to -"

Mephiston glanced at the hololith projector and it died with a rattle of slowing cogs, ending Zin's plea mid-sentence.

As their prelate vanished from view, the two hooded priests rose to their feet. "Lord Mephiston-" protested one of them.

Mephiston gave a dark glance and the priest's words caught in his throat.

"This will require some careful thought," said Mephiston. "Rhacelus will summon you when I am ready."

The ecclesiarches backed away from their chairs, alarmed, as Mephiston stood, towering over them. Zin's brethren muttered anxiously as they were led away from the undercroft, shepherded down the crumbling colonnades of the Carceri Arcanum by one of Captain Vatrenus' battle-brothers.

Once the priests had left, Mephiston sat down in his chair and stared up through the ragged hole in the ceiling, studying the glittering dust motes again. He remained like that for several minutes and an awkward silence descended over the quorum.

Rhacelus spoke up. "Chief Librarian, our failures in the Cronian Sector are no secret. The Wars of Sanctitude have claimed dozens of worlds and we still have no idea who is behind all these absurd schisms. And the Adeptus Ministorum know we are in the dark. Why have they approached you about Divinus Prime?"

Mephiston looked at his circle of advisors, as though noticing them for the first time. Then he shook his head. "Rhacelus. what did you say?"

"Why have these priests approached you about the destruction of Divinus Prime?"

"Destruction? Divinus Prime has not been destroyed, Epistolary Rhacelus, it has been stolen – plucked from the air like a conjurors prop." Mephiston clicked his long, tapered fingers and stared at them.

"And now Zin's visions have brought him to my door."

Rhacelus laughed. "You mean this Astra Angelus nonsense?"

Mephiston nodded. "I do not recognise that title, but I have felt a call. A call similar to the one Zin has felt. I felt something long before Zin petitioned Commander Dante and asked to approach me. And I have seen things. Other things that seem to concern Divinus Prime." He glanced at Mariah, as though expecting her to speak.

"My lord," said Scholiast Imola. Her words were relayed through a vox-unit attached to the side of the embryon, emerging as a reedy metallic whisper. "I'm surprised to see Confessor Zin make such a fool of himself. He was practically lecturing you. Whatever affection he holds for this particular Cardinal World, it's strange even for a priest to behave quite so absurdly. What do you think has driven him to speak like that?"

Rhacelus let out another derisive snort. "These ill-bred fanatics have no concept of manners or rank." He watched the receding figures of the priests, sneering as they slipped from view. "But then who does, these days? There was a time when lower orders understood their place."

"There is more to this Cardinal World than he's telling me, Scholiasts Imola," replied Mephiston. "That's why he believes so oddly. He's only giving me half a story. Which is why I went to see the place for myself." He looked down at his hand, noticing it was clenched into a fist again. With an odd grimace, he slowly spread his fingers. "I must look into this further."

With that, Mephiston dismissed the quorum. Captain Vatrenus and his men were ordered back to the Ostensorio to continue the slow, careful work of reconsecrating the ruins, while most of the Librarians headed back to their own chambers. Mephiston requested the presence of Antros and Mariah in his private quarters.

As they left the undercroft and travelled up through the Carceri Arcanum, heading back towards the upper levels of the Librarium, Lady Mariah held up a hand to Mephiston, signalling that she wished to speak with him alone. Mephiston waved Antros on and the old warriors stepped through an archway into a shadowy antechamber at the side of the passageway.

They were in a part of the Carceri Arcanum called the Sacellum of Lineaments: a maze of galleries, designed to illustrate the incredible variety of xenos species crushed by the Chapter since the earliest days of the great crusade. Each chamber was lined with rows of marble plinths and on top of each plinth was a bust, carefully sculpted to resemble the head of a bested alien foe. The Blood Angels employed only the most skilled artisans and the busts were terrifying in their realism. Mariah and Mephiston came to a halt near the head of a huge, one-eyed raptor, its cruel beak open in an eternal, sound-less scream.

Mariah looked around the room and when she was sure they were alone, her habitually angry expression softened. She clasped the shoulder pad of Mephiston's battleplate and leaned closer to him. "Tell me the Truth Calistarius." Her soft eyes flickered with concern. "I have not seen you since Thermia. Is it getting worse?"

Mephiston's expression remained as impenetrable as ever, but he did not reprimand Mariah for using his old name, which Mariah took as a good sign.

Mephiston slowly removed one of his gauntlets and held up his hand.

Mariah muttered a curse as she saw that Mephiston's skin was rippling with dark fire. Black, brittle fames danced across his knuckles and sparked between his fingers. In places, the darkness had entirely replaced his skin, turning Mephiston's hand into a ghostly shadow.

"What is this?" asked Mariah

"The Gift. It has been like this since Thermia," said Mephiston. "It will no longer leave me, Mariah, even when I am calm. It is there, constantly. Even now it is battling within me." He closed his eyes and the darkness faded. "I can barely control it any more. It grows more powerful by the day but the more I struggle with it, the more I ..." He held up his hand, leaving wisps of shadow in the air as he moved it. "The more I try to suppress the Gift, the more it consumes me. And it's not just my flesh that is changing. My mind is growing darker too. I'm intoxicated by it, Mariah. Intoxicated."

Mariah stared at Mephiston's odd, smouldering skin. "But what of Divinus Prime? Do you see hope there or not? Did all those visions mean nothing? I seen it myself someone was calling to you."

Mephiston stared at his hand for a little longer, then muttered an oath and shoved his gauntlet back on. "Someone is calling to me, I'm sure of it. I hoped to find a clear answer there, or perhaps a clue to the problems in the Cronian Sector, but I knew after just a few hours that I had made a pointless journey. After all these visions and messages. Divinus Prime was just another bloodbath – believers killing believers over some detail of religious doctrine, just as confusing as the Cronian Sector. I have to admit I returned here baffled, old friend. Neither of my hopes turned out to be true. I found no link between Divinus Prime and the Gift, and I found nothing that could point us to the architect of all these insurgencies." Mephiston frowned. "But now, after listening to Zin's gibberish, I think perhaps the visions do have some worth. Perhaps I missed something on Divinus Prime, something crucial. There might be a way after all."

Mariah shook her head confused. "A way to harness the Gift?"

"A way to unleash it." A rare flicker of passion transformed Mephiston's face. "A way to become the weapon the Angel wished me to be. A way to fulfil my destiny. To truly grasp what I have been given and finally name it friend or foe." Mephiston turned his gaze to the stone bust, staring at the one-eyed eagle. "Do you remember this?" he asked. "Do you remember the Battle of Khatan?"

Mariah laughed, a sweet, gentle sound that echoed through the halls. "I'm not likely to forget it. You didn't show much distinction between friend and foe that day."

Mephiston nodded. "Even then I realised the truth, the possibilities." He held out a hand and allowed the dark fire to envelop his gauntlet. "I must believe this power comes from the Angel. I have to."

When Mephiston spoke again it was with an uncharacteristic note of emotion. "You are my only love in this galaxy, Mariah – my only true love. I trust you even when I do not trust my self. I would only wish to share this with you. You have seen when I thought everything was lost, on Thermia five, your saw into my soul. You even seen the skinless woman that has been calling to me. She is the key to all of this I know it. I think she may be the one infecting that whole sector with thought of sedition and heresy. Some champion of the Ruinous powers, perhaps, and maybe you can help me discover who she is. You are..." He shook his head, unsure how to continue.

"Calistarius" said Mariah

"You are gifted in a way I had not foreseen, Mariah, in a way I still do not understand. Something happened on Thermia that created a nexus between us, joining my thoughts to yours." Mephiston studied the black flames licking across his battleplate. "I cannot tell if it will be for good or ill, but you have found your way into my future. Our fates are bound."