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to rise again。
“A little trick I picked up as a boy；” he said。
They reached their destination at last； and the doors rumbled open； allowing nine grateful soldiers to
spill out onto a wide； empty street。
The contrast with the ground floor was extreme。 Although the Ice Warriors were still surrounded
by buildings； there were open walkways and squares in between； into which some natural light fell
from translucent panels in the hive’s roof some ten levels above them。 Below； the architecture had
been strictly utilitarian； but up here there were statues and fluted columns and fountains and
gargoyles。
Many of the buildings sported eagle crests over their doorways — administrative offices — but
Barreski could also see an apartment block with wide windows opening onto balconies。
Not that Chaos hadn’t left its mark here too。 Many of the walls had been defaced with hateful
sigils； most of the buildings looted and some burned out。 And the air was cold； far colder than it had
been below — almost as cold as it had been outside。
Steele had found something： a rectangular； white…framed data panel； mounted on a free…standing；
pivoting base。 He motioned Barreski to join him at it； and had him confirm that it was a public
terminal。 The interface was designed to be accessible； the inlaid runes simple to interpret； and
Barreski was soon able to punch up a plan of the hive； and to show Steele how to select more
detailed views of each of its levels and sectors。 Then he watched in fascination as the colonel
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scrolled through map after map； hardly pausing at some long enough to read their labels； but —
Barreski felt sure — somehow committing the details of each one to his augmented memory。
“Spaceport；” Steele muttered； as he lingered briefly over one map。 “That’s good to know。 Could
be a way out of here for us； if we’re lucky。”
“No mention of an Ice Palace though； sir？” asked Barreski。
“I wouldn’t have expected one。 I should think the Ice Palace is a recent addition； something
Mangellan has had built for himself。”
“It was Gavotski who suggested sending someone further upwards； to the roof of one of the
taller buildings。 We must be close to the centre of the hive；” he said。 “If the palace is on this level； it
should be visible from up there。 If not； then we’ll know we’re wasting our time here。”
Palinev volunteered to be the scout； of course。 Everyone was surprised when Steele sent Grayle
instead。
“Get up there；” he instructed； “take a quick sighting and come straight down again。 You still
have your cloak； so if any heretic does spot you he should think you’re an ally。 Still； I’d rather not
take that chance。”
Grayle disappeared into the apartment building； emerged a few minutes later onto one of its
topmost balconies； and began to find handholds in the brickwork； hauling himself all the way up to
the roof。 It was only then that Barreski realised why it was that his fellow tanker had been assigned
to the task。 Grayle was the only one of them who had a solid alibi for when the vox…caster was
destroyed； an alibi that Barreski had provided。 He was the only one Steele trusted to stray so far
from the squad on his own。
A few minutes later； Grayle was back； flushed and breathless。
“It’s on this level； all right；” he reported； “the Ice Palace。 It’s on all the levels； all the ones up
here。 Its foundations are a couple of floors down； but it reaches all the way up to the roof。 It looks
like… like it’s almost organic； like it wasn’t built or carved or whatever； like it must have…
grown。”
“Like the so…called trees in the forest；” said Mikhaelev。
“Like them； yes；” said Grayle。 “It’s huge； at least a kilometre square； and the area around it is in
ruins； as if the palace just… as if it burst through from below； destroying everything in its path as it
sprouted upwards。 I could see bridges； great bridges of ice； leading across to it from the streets。”
“How far？” asked Steele。
“It was hard to tell；” said Grayle； “with the sheer scale of the thing。 Another three or four hours；
I’d say； on foot。 But there are patrols in the streets： Traitor Guard； lots of them； between the Ice
Palace and here。 I don’t think it’s safe to take a vehicle。”
“Mangellan is well protected；” said Steele。 “I’d expect no less。 The sound of an engine won’t go
unnoticed up here； and I can’t see a couple of cultists’ robes fooling anyone either。” This was good
news for Barreski； whose borrowed cloak had been making his skin crawl where it touched his bare
neck。 He ripped it from his shoulders； bundled it into a ball and flung it into a nearby gutter。
“We have to face the fact；” said Gavotski； “that we have come almost as far as we can on stealth
alone。 I think we all knew from the start that our chances of surviving this mission were slim。 Once
we learned that Confessor Wollkenden had been brought here； to this hive… well； that’s when this
turned into a suicide run。 Most of us will die here today； but remember： if just one of us can beat the
odds； if one of us can escape with the confessor； then we will have won the kind of victory that men
sing about。 We will have secured the memory of the Valhallan 319th for a thousand years； and I
think that’s a cause well worth fighting for。”
The first patrol； they heard coming。
They took cover on the portico of a great librarium； crouching behind its pillars as the welldrilled
ranks of a traitor platoon marched through the bordering public square。 While the other Ice
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Warriors were watching the traitors； Blonsky watched his comrades。 Would this be the moment； he
wondered； when one of them would make his move； give them away？ Or just lose his nerve and
run？
And then the traitors had passed them by； and the Ice Warriors let out a collective sigh of relief
— all except for Pozhar； who was itching for a fight as always — and they moved on。
It seemed to Blonsky that the further they went — the deeper into the hive — the colder it
became； in defiance of all logic。 It had already been a long； tiring day； but Steele set his usual
brusque pace — and Gavotski； in particular； was starting to flag； although he tried not to show it。
And then it came； at last。 The moment they had all been dreading。
Steele must have heard something； seen something； sensed something； because he threw himself
at Palinev an instant before they all heard the crack of a lasgun； and knocked him out of the path of
its beam。 The sniper had to have been on a nearby roof； but Blonsky didn’t have time to locate him。
Steele was running； yelling at the others to follow him。 Two more las…beams stabbed into the street
like lightning bolts； but then they were around a corner； out of the firing line。
“We can’t just let them get away with that；” protested Pozhar； “with firing at the Emperor’s
troops。 We have to—”
Gavotski interrupted him firmly； saying； “We can’t kill every heretic in this place； much as we’d
like to。 We have to concentrate on reaching the Ice Palace — which means getting out of this area
before that sniper calls in reinforcements。”
They ran across another public square； through an ornate archway； and down another wide
street。 Steele was leading the way； but he suddenly came to a halt； listened for a moment； reversed
direction。 They rounded the corner of a generatorium relay station — and this time； even Blonsky
could hear the footsteps tramping towards them； forcing them to revise their course again。
They made for a wide flight of steps leading up to the next hive level。 But four Traitor
Guardsmen appeared before them； dropped to their knees and fired。 The Ice Warriors plunged into a
network of side streets； making so many twists and turns that Blonsky had soon lost all sense of
direction。 Then Steele stopped again； listened for a second； and growled； “This way！” He ushered
his squad through the gaping doorway of a residential block as Blonsky too heard the whine of a
vectored thrust engine and saw a thin grey shadow flitting across the ground behind him。
He suppressed a shiver。 Someone… something out there was using a jump pack to search for
them。 And they all knew that no mere Imperial Guardsman； traitor or otherwise； had the strength to
bear such a device。
They raced along a carpeted corridor。 To each side of them； the doors of once…luxurious rooms
had been smashed open。 The furniture in those rooms had been trashed； and more than a few dead
bodies had been left behind。 Imperial citizens； thought Blonsky； who had tried to hide in their homes
once the fighting had started； who had died in them。 Cowards； all of them。 They had got what they
deserved。
They emerged into the street again； but the sounds of footsteps were all around them。
“They’re everywhere！” breathed Anakora。
“Not quite；” said Steele。 “We’re dealing with a single traitor platoon — perhaps forty men； fifty
at most — but they know this ground and they know where we’re heading。 They’re cutting off all
our routes to the Ice Palace — and at the same time； they’re closing in behind us； making sure we
can’t turn back。”
“Then we have to go through them！” Pozhar declared。
Steele looked at him； then sighed and nodded。
“The pa