Comes and Goes

Lyko tumbled away from me.
Cherubael hovered above us, high in the roof space of the factory chamber, casting a glow of filthy warp-light.
Choking, twitching, his limbs limp, Lyko was rising up towards him. Smoke was coming out of his mouth and nostrils.
‘Now, now, Gregor,’ Cherubael said. ‘Nice try, but there are some secrets that must remain.’
With a nod of his head, he tossed Lyko aside. The traitor-inquisitor flew down to the front of the factory space, bounced hard off the inner hull and then fell down into the churning reaper blades in the factory harvester’s maw.
His body was utterly disintegrated.
Cherubael hovered lower, grabbed the comatose, bound form of Esarhaddon like a child picking up a doll.
‘I won’t forget what you did,’ said the daemonhost, looking back at me one last time. ‘You’ll have to make it up to me.’
Then he was gone, and Esarhaddon was gone with him.



"Malleus", Chapter Eleven