Gotrek & Felix- the Third Omnibus - William King & Nathan Long

by Warhammer

  Some said they were immortal, others only that they were extremely long-lived. This elvish wizard might well be the same Teclis who had fought against the last great Chaos incursion during the time of Magnus the Pious over two centuries ago. Was that possible? More likely he was simply named for that mighty wizard.

  Felix shook his head. Looking at that ancient, smooth and ageless face, he could believe that this was the same mage. Perhaps if they got out of this, he would ask him. Then the implications of that thought struck him – was it possible that he had been rescued from daemons by a hero of ancient times, a being whose name he had read in books? Did legends still walk the earth by the light of day?

  Suddenly he heard the wizard say: ‘Beware! Danger is near!’

  CHAPTER TEN

  Felix saw that the shifting currents of the alien space around them were changing again. Hideous faces were pressing against the outside of the sphere. Some of them resembled people he had once known – Ulrika, Max, Snorri, Albrecht and many others – but their faces were hideously changed, fanged and malevolent. Some of them were like his father and brothers and others were completely unrecognisable, although all shared the same eerie and evil appearance.

  Some had the faces of dwarfish women and children as well as males; some even bore a distinct family resemblance to the Slayer. Others were elven, beautiful and deadly-looking. There were handsome elf males and beautiful females, and a towering figure in black rune-encrusted armour. He heard his companions gasp as if they recognised some of the visages. Gotrek spat a curse and aimed his axe at the edge of the sphere.

  It passed through and bit into one of the laughing faces. An eerie scream sounded as the sphere shuddered and appeared about to collapse. The elf let out a pained gasp and said, ‘Do not do that! If you break the sphere then we will all drown in this vile stuff. It is the only thing that protects us at this moment.’

  ‘I need no protection,’ said Gotrek angrily.

  ‘Do not be so sure, dwarf,’ said the elf, and there was an edge to that musical voice that had not been there before. ‘Even that axe can only protect you for so long in these mystical currents. Soon you would become like them – lost souls, daemons, a dishonour to your clan.’

  The elf added the last as if it was an afterthought, but Felix thought he saw the subtle barb there. Gotrek grimaced. ‘I am already a dishonour to my clan.’

  ‘Then you will have no chance of redemption, only a chance to deepen their dishonour.’ Elf though he might be, the wizard obviously knew something of dwarfs. Gotrek fell silent, save for the occasional muttered curse.

  Before Felix had a chance to say anything, an eerie high-pitched sound penetrated the sphere. It was a sound such as souls in rapture might make – calm, peaceful and wonderful. It promised everything your heart might desire. Peace if you were weary of struggle, happiness if you were tired of melancholy, outright joy even seemed possible now and forever.

  At first, it seemed ludicrous that those faces should sing such a song, and he realised that this was just some subtle spell, used by the daemons to try and ensnare him. It was a pathetic trick, an obvious lure, and it was as easy to ignore as to see through. Then he looked closer and he could see that the faces had altered. They were friendlier now, and smiled at him as one might at a long-departed loved one who had just returned.

  ‘They cannot yet break through my shield, unless your companion aids them with his axe,’ said Teclis. ‘But it is only a matter of time. Pray to your human gods that we can escape before they do so. In this place none of us will have the strength to resist them for long.’

  What did the wizard mean, Felix thought? It was becoming increasingly obvious that the beings out there meant them no harm. They were friendly, welcoming – all of what had happened earlier had merely been a misunderstanding. They were willing to share with them the secret of eternal happiness. All you had to do was to be willing to listen.

  Part of Felix knew this was simply not true. These were the false promises of daemons, but the part of him that was frightened and tired wanted desperately to believe that what they said was true, to put an end to this suffering and anxiety forever. He offered up a prayer to Sigmar. These were the ways the subtlest of daemons worked on men, tempting them when they were at their lowest ebb, promising them a surcease from their travails. He knew he should not want to believe them, but still he did. Worse yet, he knew that as his desire increased, so the spells protecting him weakened. His own connection to the daemons was weakening the wards.

  He saw another face he recognised. It was that of the creature that had tormented him. It no longer looked so wicked. It looked ashamed, apologetic. It beckoned to him to come closer, so that it might apologise. In spite of himself, Felix felt the urge to respond.

  Outside the sphere, the Paths of the Old Ones flickered past. All around the daemons crowded in, preparing for the moment when the protective spells would give way.

  Teclis knew it was only a matter of time now before his wards eroded. The dwarf’s axe had severed the weave. Given the chance, he might have resealed them, but at the moment it was all he could do to hold them closed. Worse yet, Felix Jaeger was faltering. He already had a connection with the daemons out there, having once fallen into their clutches. If they got out of this alive, Teclis knew he might eventually have to perform some rituals of exorcism to remove the taint from the man’s soul and sever any residual link to the creatures of hell. If they survived… Right now, he needed to find a way to ensure that they did.

  A glance at the dwarf showed no weakness there. If anything, the dwarfish kind were even more resistant to the lures of Chaos than elves – a certain stubbornness had been bred into them early in creation. And even if that were not the case, the weapon Gotrek Gurnisson bore would have protected him from any of their wiles. Doubtless the first few of the creatures to break through his defences would die the final death, but after that Teclis did not see how even the mighty dwarf could survive in this place.

  Frustratingly, he could sense that they were getting close to the source of the disturbances he had been tracking. With every heartbeat, they were nearer to the great pulses of power that threatened to destroy this ancient network. If only they had the time, he felt certain he could locate the source of the disturbance and neutralise it. In terms of the distances within the paths, they did not have much further to go. Unfortunately, it was only a matter of heartbeats before his defences were overwhelmed and they were thrown into the current to deal with the daemons as best they could.

  Even as this thought passed through his mind, he noticed a swirling vortex of force nearby. It was an exit path, of that he was sure. Given a few seconds they could reach it, and return to the world of men and elves and dwarfs. The siren song grew louder, and a taloned hand reached through the protective sphere. He sensed the presence of the daemons all around them. There was no other choice – if they were going to escape they were going to have to do it now, and face the consequences of his decision later.

  ‘Prepare to do battle,’ he said and sent them tumbling headlong towards the portal.

  Felix heard the elf speak and braced himself. He had no idea what was about to happen, but he guessed that it was not going to be good. He was almost sorry that the elf had interrupted his reverie, for he felt he had come closer to understanding the inhabitants of this strange and wonderful place than any man ever had before. He knew that if only he could communicate with those strange intelligences, he might achieve wonderful things, far beyond the dreams of normal mortals.

  All such thoughts were swept aside as he felt a sudden tremendous burst of acceleration. They tore free from the pursuing beings and headed towards a swirling whirlpool of light. Moments later they were flung through what felt like a normal atmosphere, and landed on hard stone. Felix felt all the air being blasted from his lungs by the force of the impact. He hit the ground rolling, doing his best to kill his velocity. He knew he had acquired a few more scrapes as he did so.

/>   Quickly he pulled himself to his feet. They were once more in a long stone corridor like the one he and Gotrek had been in before he had been cast into the maelstrom of alien energy. Behind them was a glowing archway, the like of which he had seen before although this one was marked with different runes. Gotrek was already on his feet, quick as a cat, and had turned to face the archway. The elf somehow remained floating in the air at about shoulder height, surrounded by a strange mystical glow. Chained lightning circled his staff, the gems set in his armlets and towering headpiece gave forth an eerie light. The look on his face was as grim as Gotrek’s. Both of them seemed prepared to fight.

  Felix took in a lungful of air, grateful for the substantial feel of it even though it was damp and smelled musty. Whatever he had been breathing in the paths had been much rarer stuff. He felt slightly dizzy now but held himself upright and waited for whatever it was his companions expected.

  Nor did he have to wait long. Within moments daemonic shapes, humanoid, but winged and fanged and taloned, had taken shape in the glowing light of the archway, emerging from it like swimmers from water. The sight of them in no way reassured Felix. Some of them were feminine but with shaven heads and massive crab-like claws. They gave forth a strange musk. Along with them were hounds with long, prehensile tongues and soft doe-like eyes that held the glitter of evil humour. Felix had seen their like before, during the Siege of Praag. The thought that he could recognise such things was a profoundly disturbing one.

  Their leader was the batwinged humanoid that reminded him of the creature who had tortured him, but who here seemed at once more beautiful and more horrible. Behind him he could see more of the creatures trying to push through. The runes on the gateway glowed, and ruddy lightning bolts flickered over the surface of the light. The daemons and their hounds screamed but kept coming. It was obvious they had triggered some ancient device set to defend against their kind, but whatever it was, it was too enfeebled now to hold them for long.

  Gotrek laughed and threw himself forward. The great axe cleaved through the daemons, rending them asunder. They disintegrated into a shower of sparks and a sickly sweet odour. They left no corpses. As Felix watched, some of the sparks tried to return through the archway, but they were met by the red lightning and overwhelmed.

  Despite seeing the fate of their comrades, more of the daemons and their long snouted beasts pushed forward. By sheer weight of numbers they drove the Slayer away from the portal. Gotrek continued to hack and cleave, destroying them as they came at him. A few decided to seek easier prey and swept around the edges, flanking the Slayer and coming towards Felix and the elf.

  Felix met the first of the daemon women head on. She aimed a claw at his head. The huge lobster-like pincer looked as if it would snap his neck like a twig. He ducked beneath it, aiming a blow upward and taking her through the throat. She disappeared into a cloud of sparks leaving only that peculiar musky perfume behind.

  Felix had fought these creatures before, and they had seemed much tougher then. He doubted that he himself had become any stronger, so he could only conclude that something about the sorcery in this place was weakening them and leaving them vulnerable. It seemed that if he and his companions had been at a disadvantage within the sorcerous web of the paths, then the shoe was quite definitely on the other foot here.

  The winged creature that had tortured him was hurtling over the Slayer’s head towards Teclis. It hit the glow surrounding him and bounced away screaming. Filled with rage and a lust for revenge, Felix leapt upward, jabbing his blade through the creature’s crotch and twisting. It too vanished, its essence trying futilely to return to the place beyond the portal.

  Felix smiled grimly and moved to aid Gotrek, although the Slayer did not appear to need his help. He had already carved his way through the daemons opposing him. The onslaught from beyond slackened, and at that point the elf began to chant a spell. Instantly the remaining creatures were sucked backwards towards the void, coming apart as if sliced by fine invisible wires when they hit the red light web of the ancients. In seconds the corridor was clear although the howling mass of the mob was visible beyond. Even as Felix watched, the ruddy light seemed to thicken and congeal forming first a translucent film and then a hard opaque layer over the portal. He shook his head, not quite understanding what was going on.

  ‘It seems that this incursion has activated some ancient ward,’ said the elf. ‘Unfortunately, it will prevent us from using this portal again ourselves for quite some time, although I doubt that using it would be quite such a good idea. Doubtless the daemons are waiting beyond, hoping we are foolish enough to stumble back through and allow them to take their revenge.’

  Gotrek sucked his teeth loudly but said nothing. The elf’s presence was something of a strain for him. He looked as if he would like nothing more than to take his axe and start hewing. Felix was glad that he restrained himself. It was obvious that they owed a debt of honour to the wizard.

  ‘Where are we? What is this place? How do we get out?’ he asked.

  ‘We are within an artefact of the Old Ones, and this is not the time or place to discuss it. As to how we get out – follow me. If you please, sir dwarf,’ the elf added with exaggerated politeness. Gotrek’s fingers tightened around the haft of his axe. Felix could see his knuckles whitening. A sensible man would have fled at that point, but the elf seemed oblivious. Felix was wondering whether his own nerves could stand the strain of this for much longer.

  He fell into step behind the elf, and considered his words. The Old Ones were a legend, a race of god-like beings that had vanished from the world long ago. Some scholars claimed that they were the fathers of the present gods banished by their rebellious children. Others wrote that they had brought some cosmic doom upon themselves and fled. Most tomes said nothing about them at all. Only the vaguest of hints could be found in even the most ancient texts.

  In spite of this, the elf seemed certain of what he had said, and he, of all people, ought to know. Felix paid more attention to his surroundings now, looking for clues about the beings that had made these things. The stonework was rough-hewn but marked by glyphs of some oddly reptilian design. Felix was not quite sure how he got that impression, but get it he did. Perhaps they were mere decoration, perhaps they were protective wards. How could he tell? Max Schreiber would doubtless have had a theory about this, he thought. Why was he never around when you needed him?

  Suddenly, a thought struck him. These corridors were obviously a link between the real world and the odd world beyond the portal. ‘An antechamber,’ he said aloud.

  ‘A good guess, Felix Jaeger,’ said the elf. ‘Yes. Doubtless this place is a bridge between our world and the place through which those paths run. It is neither here nor there, caught between the two worlds.

  ‘And that would mean at the far end of this corridor, we will find a way back into our world,’ said Felix.

  ‘I most certainly hope so,’ said Teclis. ‘Otherwise we may well prove to be stuck here forever.’

  ‘Entombed forever with an elf,’ muttered Gotrek. ‘Truly this is the gateway to hell.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Although he did his best to hide it, Teclis was desperate. The way back into the Paths of the Old Ones was effectively sealed from this point. Even if he could break through the ancients’ protective spells, doubtless the daemons would still wait beyond. They were immortal and malicious and could take as much time as they liked. He could not risk waiting for them to depart.

  Inwardly he cursed his decision to rescue the human and the dwarf. They had cost him valuable time and energy on his quest, and what had he got for his trouble? An ungrateful surly wretch of a Slayer, and a human who appeared on the verge of madness, or giving way to Chaos. He knew he would have to check later for the possibility of daemonic possession. Certainly once they were out of the paths an exorcism would have to be performed.

  He matched his breathing to his stride and performed the calming mental exercises h
e had learned as an apprentice. What was done was done. There was no sense in regretting it. And he could not believe it was simple chance that brought the dwarf and that axe into his path. The gods were taking a hand here, he felt. The question was – which gods? Not the powers of Chaos as far as he could tell, not with that weapon. Perhaps the Ancestor Gods of the dwarfs, perhaps those of his own people. A meeting between the bearer of that axe and the mightiest elven wizard of the age, bearer of the staff of Lileath and the war crown of Saphery, had to hold a deeper significance.

  Calmness returned. He took in his surroundings. The stones here appeared to be less worn and less corrupted by Chaos than the ones in Ulthuan. He asked a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind for some time. ‘How did you come to be within the Paths of the Old Ones?’

  ‘It was an accident,’ said Felix Jaeger. ‘We were pursuing a Chaos sorcerer and his minions when a large daemon appeared and…’

  Teclis laughed softly. The man’s manner was quite matter of fact, even though he was discussing things that would have terrified many an ancient elf.

  ‘Something funny, elf?’ asked the dwarf. Teclis shook his head.

  ‘I find your composure in the face of such things… refreshing.’

  ‘I was not very composed at the time,’ said the man. ‘But things happened so suddenly once we entered the chamber…’

  Doubtless it was a chamber just like the one in Ulthuan. The Chaos sorcerer must have been the one to open it. That meant the beastmen he had seen had not simply wandered into the paths by accident. It seemed that followers of darkness had indeed gained access to the Paths of the Old Ones. They must be using them to move swiftly between various places. The question was, were they aware or unaware of the other consequences of what they were doing? Did it matter? The followers of the Four Powers of Destruction were insane enough to keep using the paths anyway, regardless if it meant the destruction of Ulthuan, perhaps particularly if it meant the sinking of the island continent.