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The Crystal Cathedral – Danie Ware
About the Author
An Extract from ‘Mark of Faith’
A Black Library Publication
eBook license
The Crystal Cathedral
By Danie Ware
Sister Augusta Santorus stood at the bottom of the wide stone steps, her scarlet armour gleaming, her head bared to the light. She had entrusted her weapons to the upheld tray of the little brass servitor and she carried only reverence and awe, as was proper in His presence. To bear arms in the house of the Emperor was blasphemy – after all, was His protection not enough?
In a line to her left stood her sisters, the squad’s black-and-white cloaks stirring faintly, though there was little wind in this carefully carved valley. Its rock walls were almost sheer and they glittered with crystalline fragments, reflecting the blue-green gleam of the planet above, hazed in its own atmosphere and glorious to behold.
But that was not what held the Sisters’ attention.
‘Truly,’ Sister Superior Veradis said softly, from the centre of the line, ‘one finds His miracles in even the darkest of places. Sing with me, my Sisters…’
‘A spiritu dominatus…’ They raised their voices in the Litany, their harmonies echoing back at them, chiming from the rock. The acoustics were flawless, and Augusta felt a chill go down her back.
The darkest of places…
This was Caro, the smallest moon of the planet Lena Beta, orbiting its blue-white star. And upon its bleak, rocky surface, there stood a miracle.
Forgotten for a thousand years, encased and defended by this carved, rock-walled gorge, it was a great, dark edifice, its bell towers and arches soaring over their heads. That much was imposing enough.
But the cathedral was also black.
Made from pure, black glass it was shadow, a cut-out, a great silhouette that took towering bites from the planet’s perfect curve. It was flat pane after flat pane, every one held in place by thin struts of dark flexsteel, every one glittering with myriad crystalline reflections. Warrior statues stood guard at its doorway, their strong faces bearing familiar fleur-de-lys tattoos, their carved armour bearing the mark of the Bloody Rose.
From the very first days of their order: their Sisters.
Augusta wondered if they judged her, her newness and inexperience.
Between the stone Sisters, the cathedral’s huge front doors stood open, and the squad could see that the building’s insides were also dark, lit only by the flickering, ruddy gleam of electro-sconces. Despite the gloom, however, the congregation already waited within.
‘We beseech Thee, destroy them.’
As the Litany came to an end, Veradis’ voice sounded in their vox-beads: ‘Witness our Sisters, Farus and Neva. The Accords of the Rose tell us that they defended this moon once before, a thousand years ago. Upon the site of their victory, and in the Emperor’s name, was this cathedral constructed. It is a true phenomenon, the only one of its kind.’
‘Yes, Sister.’ Augusta was still staring, transfixed by the wonder that awaited them, nervous of making any misstep.
‘Stand ready,’ Veradis said.
Ahead of them, the organ blasted the first notes of the hymn of greeting.
‘And move!’
The squad formed up, double file, and stamped crisply up the steps.
Her boots ringing from the stone, the young Sister Augusta marched with her chin up, her gaze straight ahead. With a rustle, the congregation came to their feet, their data-slates in their hands and already flowing with the text of the hymn. The slates’ pale light reflected from the people’s faces and throats – dignitaries all, their robes and jewellery sparkling.
Expectation rose from them like smoke.
At the aisle’s far end, the great Sol-facing window was as black as everything else, its images lost to opacity. The altar was a great block of dark stone, the organ-pipes all but unseen in the shadows of the steel-supported roof. Only the pulpit and the choirstalls retained any glimmer of light, and, as the Sisters approached, so the choir took up the words of the hymn, their harmonies shiveringly perfect.
The darkest of places.
Beautiful, incredible though this was, something about this great building made Augusta tense – it provoked a sense of anticipation, almost, a feeling of huge expectation. The squad were here as an honour guard, marking its reconsecration, but still…
In the pulpit, the deacon eyed her as if he could see her very thoughts. With a prayer for the unworthiness of the doubt, she lowered her gaze and remembered her humility.
Nodding sternly, the deacon joined the hymn. Broadcast out through the vox-coder, his bass boom rose to the black glassaic roof, its power making Augusta’s arms prickle. It seemed almost as if the hymn would shatter the building asunder, bring it down in a tumble of glittering and sharp-edged fragments…
Her tension grew sharper, whetted like a good blade.
Levis est mihi!
Show me the Light!
They came to the altar rail, and spread out to kneel. Augusta’s blonde hair fell over her face, but even as it did so…
‘By the Throne!’
The soft exclamation came from Veradis – startling from the severe and disciplined Sister Superior.
Before them, the very tip of the Sol window was touched with Lena’s rising light.
Augusta stared, rapt.
Slowly, the light spread down through the glassaic. And not only through the window; it pooled out through the walls, and across the great arched curve of the roof. It chased the darkness away, turning panes of shadow into panes of pure, blue-white light. Rainbows danced in the vaults of the ceiling; the ruddy gleam of the sconces paled as the pillars rippled with dazzling illumination.
They had known to expect this – as this tiny moon curved about its planet, as the planet curved about its star, so this, its singular conjunction, came again. It was the only time in a thousand years that the light touched the bottom of this valley, the site of the previous battle, and the glassaic of the building it now contained.
But still, the wonder of it…!
Augusta knew she should lower her head, but she could not look away.
Illumination flowed down through the great window, revealing Him in all His glory, His armour gleaming, His flaming blade upheld. The singing rose to a crescendo, a crashing celebration of His presence, and of the great victory that had taken place here. It carried a strong contralto line that picked up the thread of the Sisters’ own Litany.
Again, she shivered.
She could not avert her gaze, she was transfixed – the light continued to spread, making the polished brass of the organ pipes shine. It made rainbow patterns slide down the aisle; it brought a gleam to the circling cherubim, their metal eyelids clicking as they surveyed the scene below.
Overcome and breathless, bereft of the words of hymn and Litany both, Augusta could only watch.
The splintering of the roof took the Sisters completely by surprise.
And the screams rang like music.
‘This will be straightforward reconnaissance mission,’ Veradis had told them, in the back of the shuttle. ‘We are to attend the reconsecration of the great crystal cathedral, upon the mining moon Caro. The building is a true marvel, commemorating the victory of Sister Superior Farus against the xenos contagion that had infected Caro’s tunnels.’ She surveyed her squad, her expression stern. ‘You have studied your texts, I hope?’
The
Arvus juddered as it hit the upper atmosphere.
Sister Leona answered, ‘Most certainly. Caro has an odd, elliptical orbit about its planet, pulled back once every thousand years before being flung out into the void once more. Its resources, however, are considerable, and, after the Great Crusade, the planetary governor deemed it enough of a blessing to be mined for its gemstones. It has brought its planet great wealth.’
‘Just so,’ Veradis said.
The Arvus continued to shudder. Augusta, her helm between her knees, held onto her straps and prayed – this was never her favourite part of a mission.
Sister Pia, the squad’s second, chimed in, reciting the text verbatim: ‘But lo! From the unsanctified places of the Emperor’s tunnels there came forth darkness unendurable, heresy manifest in claw and tooth, in hunger given form. And, though the humble servants of the Emperor’s mines gave battle with great bravery, the beasts were a seethe of cruelty beyond their ken, and thus, they were slain.’
Veradis nodded, approving. The pict screen in the back of the shuttle was showing the moon’s long orbit.
‘They survived long enough to call for help,’ Veradis said. ‘And Sister Superior Farus, may she rest in His grace, brought her squad to eliminate the menace. The crystal cathedral marks the site of our Sisters’ triumph, and the point at which the xenos infection was finally purged.’ Veradis paused, watching the pict screen and the slowly tumbling moon. ‘Caro’s atmosphere has been fully restored, and the mines will commence their formal reopening once the service has taken place. We are to attend this service, and then undertake our reconnaissance mission. Needless to say, my Sisters, extreme vigilance must be maintained at all times.’
‘Yes, Sister Superior.’
She gave Augusta a long look, ‘And no mistakes this time, Sister.’
Augusta looked at her red boots, shamed by the loss of her bolter on their previous mission. ‘I will make no errors.’
‘Good.’ Veradis’ tone was grim. ‘His eyes will be upon you. As will mine.’
The shuttle’s juddering smoothed as the vehicle settled to a level flight path. On the screen, the orbit-image had given way to a close-up of the moon itself, riddled with a familiar pattern of mines, chimneys and manufactoria. Across the bottom of the screen flowed the necessary data – hours of daylight, atmospheric components, pollutant levels, air temperature.
Next to Augusta, Sister Lucienne shot her a sideways look. Across their tight-beam vox-link she muttered, ‘Why do I bear a shadow in my heart, Sister? It is unworthy. And yet, there is something about this…’
Augusta glanced at her friend, but did not reply. The same shadow had crossed her also.
The crash was tremendous.
Glass splintered and tumbled, its edges glittering. A thousand dancing reflections spun across the shattered roof. People came to their feet, shocked, backing up…
As a huge, dark shape crunched to the floor amid a smash of fallen shards.
Instantly, reflexively, Augusta went for her bolter, but her gauntlet came back empty. Her heart pounding, she was on her feet, turning, drawing the small fleur-de-lys punch-dagger from the front of her armour.
Around her, her sisters were doing the same, each woman dropping to a guarded crouch.
In the centre of the nave, a colossal, savage monster bared huge teeth at the fleeing congregation.
The people were shrieking, now, gathering their robes and their families and scrambling out of the way. Panicking and shoving, they tumbled from its impact like ripples.
By the Light! Augusta stared at it, her hand tightening on her blade. What is that?
It was huge, pure savagery, and far bigger than the Sisters; its carapace was a glitter of spine-spiked darkness in the now brilliant rainbow light. It crouched, its tail lashing, whipping its head this way and that as it watched the fleeing, shrieking people.
The hymn had tumbled from the air like a broken thing. In the pulpit, the deacon raged, leaning down to rant like fanatic, ‘This is the house of the Emperor! There will be no defilement here!’
He rounded on the Sisters, blazing zeal and fury, but Veradis was already moving.
‘Squad,’ she snapped into the vox. ‘With me, by twos, watch each other’s backs. Leona, get to the vestibule and secure the heavy bolter.’ Aloud, she roared, ‘Get out of the way!’
The people, already scrabbling, had no need to be told. As the Sisters closed ranks and began to move, the crowd was stumbling over the seating, tripping and crunching over the fallen glassaic. The braver amongst them had been trying to build some sort of hasty barricade, but it was a pitiful attempt – the thing’s claws were as long as a Sister’s forearm and they lashed a lethal left-right, sending pews and bodies flying.
Snarling and screaming echoed loudly, the noises carrying as perfectly as the words of the hymn had done.
‘Sisters!’ Veradis barked the order aloud. ‘On the double!’
They broke into a run, their metal feet clanging a challenge. Each woman had her punch-dagger in her grip; in the lead, Veradis was using her free hand to pull the slower or less wary people clean out of her way.
The Litany came from her like pure, cold outrage.
From the lightning and the tempest!
The creature did not care. It was a boil of motion, a cyclone of violence. Its speed was terrifying. It was a harbinger of death, its tail like a whip, its claws ripping through flesh and stone alike. In a blur of speed, its huge maw bit at a fleeing dignitary. The man’s headless body ran another full step before it fell forwards, its ringed hands outstretched. Blood pooled from the neck.
The creature pounced again, picking up a robed woman and tearing her clean in half.
Shocked, horrified, her gorge rising with a toxic alloy of fury and nausea, Augusta almost skidded; she had to force herself to keep running, to maintain the Litany’s defiant song. The people were almost all out of the way now, but the creature was already flanked by piles of flung bodies, some of them only injured, desperate and struggling. Ignoring them, focused now on the Sisters, it slashed through the nearest heap and jumped on a fallen pew, all spine and spike and tail, a knot of shoulders and claws. Its shining head turned towards Veradis and it extended a long tongue, tasting the air.
For a split second, Augusta wondered if it was grinning at them.
But this was no time for such whimsical nonsense.
Our Emperor, deliver us!
The floor was slick with scarlet; it steamed in the bright, crystal light, and wreathed the monster like an aura.
‘Xenos.’ Veradis’ snarl didn’t even sound surprised. ‘We do not fear you, creature.’
The thing tilted its head at her, almost as if it understood.
From the pulpit, the deacon was still roaring: ‘Defiler! Slay it, Sister Superior, in the Emperor’s name!’
The creature leapt. Barehanded, bereft of both bolter and chainsword, Veradis did not hesitate. Fearless, she met it head-on, catching it as it leapt, and throwing it over and past her. It landed on its back, kicked frantically for a moment, and then righted itself.
It spun snarling, lowering its head at them.
‘Go, get out!’ Behind Augusta, Sister Lucienne was ushering the last of the people, pushing them towards the two side doors that led back out to the cloisters, and to the high, tight walls of the valley. Horrified, their faces etched in terror and sickness, streaked by blood and tears, they followed her directions, pulling each other away.
One of them, a young man barely older than Lucienne herself, clutched at her and said, ‘Why? What did we do to merit such punishment?’
‘This is not punishment,’ she told him, her tone livid with suppressed outrage. ‘This is an abomination. And it will be purged!’
He nodded, though his eyes were as much glass as the great building itself.
‘Run!’
she told him.
But Augusta had reached the fight.
The thing was upright, all four arms mantled over its head; it was leering down at Veradis, its horrific teeth still bared.
Augusta looked up at it, gauging its weapons, its weak points, its potential attacks. Images lashed at her, memories of the schola’s lessons – but she could never have guessed that such a beast would be this cold, this utterly pure and focused.
And so fast!
Snarling, it lunged at Veradis with each set of massive claws, left and right, one after the other. They tore through her armour as if it were only grox-leather, ripping huge parallel dents in her breastplate and pauldrons; but the Sister Superior was indomitable, she did not falter or fall back. Still singing, rage and battle and defiance, she slashed with the dagger, a sideways lunge aimed at the joints in the beast’s armoured belly.
But it moved like a blur, too swift to see.
Another set of claws slammed down on Veradis’ shoulder, sending her spinning to the floor.
From plague, temptation and war!
Over the vox, Sister Pia barked, ‘Spread out!’
The Sisters separated to surround the beast, coming at it from all sides. Its head twitched to and fro as it followed them, its tail lashed at their boots.
Our Emperor, deliver us!
The thing hissed at them.
And then, almost faster than they could see, it exploded into motion.
It was like fighting a tornado.
Too strong, too many arms, too fast to follow. Glassaic crunched beneath their boots, the rainbow light still spreading over their heads – but they had no time to look up.
One savage tail-lash took Lucienne off her feet, dropping her with a thunderous crash. A slash of claws sent Pia reeling, her armour sliced like cloth. The thing’s strength was enormous, its ferocity brutal. The Sisters came it from every direction, but their daggers seemed to skitter off its carapace; it slashed and stuck at them, and their armour rent and buckled under blows too fast to follow. Pia lunged at its back, but it whipped around, lashing out with one huge arm to send her staggering back, slamming into the nearest pillar. As it did so, Augusta struck at its side but the thing’s hard chitin turned the point of her small dagger. The blow skidded, doing no harm.
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