Read Online Ahriman: Exile by John French - Free Book Online

in the poised focus of battle readiness. An image of Tolbek standing on the plains of the red planet flashed in front of his mind. He remembered Tolbek turning to him as the dust settled under the rising sun. In that remembered moment there had been fear in Tolbek’s eyes.
    Tolbek paused, and then turned to look at Ahriman. The beaked front of Ahriman’s black helm hid his face, but he felt Tolbek’s gaze as if it were the barrel of a gun.
    ‘You,’ said Tolbek.
    He knows , thought Ahriman, and felt a stab of hatred and suspicion bloom from Tolbek and then vanish as it was suppressed.
    ‘What is your name, crow helm?’ The question hung in the air. Gzrel was turning to look at Ahriman, words forming on his lips. Maroth was watching Tolbek, his hand moving towards his weapons. Above them the chains stirred and clinked. Ahriman could feel the warp become suddenly still and calm.
    +Brother,+ sent Ahriman.
    +It is truly you,+ replied Tolbek, and Ahriman felt the surprise in the sending.
    +Why have you come?+
    Ahriman felt Tolbek’s mind harden, his thoughts hiding behind walls of protection.
    +You must come with me.+
    +To what end?+
    Tolbek did not reply. Ahriman could see a glimmer of the truth through the fortress of Tolbek’s mind. There was anger, and sorrow, and bitterness. The emotions blazed like multi-coloured lights and tasted like ashes.
    +I will not go with you,+ he sent. +I am not what I was and I will never allow myself to be again.+
    +That choice is not yours.+
    ‘I am sorry, brother,’ said Ahriman.
    The flame leapt from Tolbek’s hand. Ahriman froze as shock washed through him in a cold wave. For a fraction of a heartbeat he could not believe the suddenness of Tolbek’s attack.
    He is my brother, he thought, and felt the warp coiling around him, held taut, waiting for his will to give it form. It was like regaining feeling in a forgotten limb. There will be no way back after this , he thought, and felt paths of cause and effect skitter at the edge of his awareness: the old divinations of the Corvidae, so long sealed off, returning like insects drawn to light.
    Ahriman was still as the fire reached for him.
    He raised a hand.
    Tolbek was moving, his blade in his hand, its edge blinding bright.
    The flame hit Ahriman’s palm and exploded outwards.
    Ahriman’s mind was a still point at the centre of a storm. Beside him Xiatsis raised his hand, energy flowing to the gesture. Ahriman felt the threat and shifted the shape of his thoughts. Xiatsis came off the floor and split apart into armour fragments and tatters of flesh. One of the Harrowing initiates beside Gzrel had taken a step towards Ahriman, the teeth of his chainsword starting to spin. With a thought Ahriman flung the bloody cloud of bone splinters at the champion. A shard found an eyepiece and the champion went down, his chainsword shrieking to life in his dead man’s grip.
    Tolbek had taken two paces towards Ahriman, fire still spraying from his hand. Ahriman’s mind reached across the warp, grasped the flame and pulled with his will. It felt like sinking his teeth into soft meat. Tolbek cried out in surprise and pain. The fire curled around Ahriman, spinning in a cyclone, turning faster and faster, roaring as it fed on the chamber’s air.
    Ahriman wanted to laugh. He had refused this power for so long, had feared the doors it opened and the future it would draw him to, but now fate had found him and fear vanished. The sensation of battle and power surged through him in euphoric waves. He felt the aether respond to his mind, forming to his emotions and intellect. He could see the next few moments playing out in exact detail: the gasp of air from Maroth’s lips, Tolbek’s sword rising, the blood of the door guards bright on the floor. And through it all he could see his actions sliding through these moments like a razor slicing flesh. How could he have ever put this aside? The years of fear and doubt shrank in his mind as he soared above