The psychic lens writhed and shivered like a living thing. The threads of energy from the donor sources shimmered and changed through all the colors of the spectrum and more besides. The Coven of Sorcerers controlling the Driver modulated their efforts as the stream of Dark Energy flowed onward. Slowly and inexorably the pattern of oscillations in the lens grew in strength. This possibility had been foreseen. A back-up Coven was added to assist the Collimators but they were unable to control or even damp the surges. The donor threads whipped around like a crazed snake. A new Coven was added to the Modulators, but nothing seemed to be able to control the Warp Feedback. Threads started to detach from the donors as the Warp energy killed them. A particularly strong Eldar exploded injuring several of his Controllers. The experiment was running away. As a last resort the large Emergency Coven began to construct a Psychic Shield to protect the laboratory. Before it could be completed a surge of Warp power enveloped one of the Modulator Covens. Some were sucked directly into the Warp, others were totally destroyed, the very unlucky ones survived, warped and twisted, their minds and bodies shattered. The Driver was damped and the Dark Energy stream reduced, but it was too late. A vast coruscating blast of Warp Flame burst into the room, destroying apparatus and operators alike crushing stone and bone. The back-blast reflected off the nearly completed Psychic Shield and rebounded, and with a last actinic flash, the lens disappeared.

Ahriman, Supreme Sorceror Lord, Ultimate Champion of the Thousand Sons, Grand Master of the Arts Arcane and Favored of Tzeentch was very frustrated. Some would have thought him angry, but his emotions were too controlled for anger. As he surveyed the wreckage of the laboratory he was cataloguing the damage. The damage to the laboratory was easy to fix. Some of the apparatus was very difficult to replace but it could be done. Replacements could be found and trained for the Lords, Sorcerors and Acolytes destroyed. They were obviously not worthy. The hardest thing to replace would be the donors. It had taken much effort and time to collect such a strong and pure force of energy. Many had died. Only the strongest could be used, and they were the hardest to collect. The experiment had been planned for years, the best Astromancers had plotted the Warp channels, Ahriman himself has monitored events. No mistakes had been made. Some unknown agency had disturbed the Warp and ruined many years of work. The Eldar were near, but they were weak and any influence from them had been predicted and allowed for. The miserable followers of the False-Emperor were too far away. No one else had the power and range to distort the Warp so much. This was no accident of nature. From the texture of the vortices Ahriman could recognize the unmistakable touch of sentience. He would find who was responsible and he would learn how it was done, and then they would pay with more than their very life.

*********

The prisoner was not in chains, but his restraints where none the less very real. He was tall and unusually sturdy for an Eldar and he walked with the bearing of someone overcome but not defeated. Apart from his missing right fore-arm and a slight limp he appeared in good condition, although his ritual green armor was dented and gashed in a number of places and his helmet was missing. The three guards who accompanied him did so with considerable care. There had been a fourth, but he had made a mistake.

As they approached, the doors to the outer sanctum opened and Ahriman, Supreme Sorceror Lord, Ultimate Champion of the Thousand Sons, Grand Master of the Arts Arcane and Favored of Tzeentch stepped forth. He was tall and broad and handsome, if what could be seen could be believed, which of course it could not. He motioned the guards to retire and as soon as they withdrew the prisoner leapt forward. What should have been a wild and suicidal attack was stopped by some invisible force which imprisoned him like a fly in amber.

Ahriman walked forward until he could almost touch the prisoner who, although immobile, could be seen to be exerting all his considerable strength to no avail. The prisoner then relaxed and Ahriman smiled.

“So you see sense at last,” he said in the heavily accented but intelligible dialect of Ansaltar Craftworld. A slight change in the prisoner’s pupils betrayed his surprise.

“Yes, I may be mon-keigh, but I speak and understand the Tongue of the Ancients. You are here because I want some information. I know that you do not want to tell me and I know that you would rather die first, but humor me and listen to the words I say.”

Even through his harsh accent, the undeniable charisma of the man was evident. This was a strange mon-keigh indeed.

“I do not offer you your life. I would not insult your honor. No, I offer you your death. But death comes in many forms. I know that you can withstand torture and privations with strength and fortitude. You have given yourself completely over to the Way of the Warrior and in a sense you are already dead. What I offer is the nature of your death. It is in my power to give you to the followers of the Soul Drinker. There your death will be final. It is also in my power to give you to the Dark Kin. There your death would be just as final, but a great deal more prolonged. Finally, I can kill you myself. If you tell me something worthwhile beyond what I already know, then I will kill you and see that your soul stone is returned to your people.”

He paused for a moment to let the words sink in.

“No, I wouldn’t believe me either, but I have some proof.” With that he gestured or beckoned and a figure stepped out of the shadows. Ahriman could not read the body language or expressions of his prisoner, but he knew what they were. Surprise. Complete surprise.

“Let me introduce my…” He paused for a moment searching for the words and then realized that there were none. “This is Turambar Ard’Marith, Archon of the Kabal of the Flaming Skull, my Enemy-who-is-my-Ally. We co-operate from time to time. He takes advantage of me and I take advantage of him, and neither of us trusts the other at all. The best basis for a relationship. Neither of us can be disappointed. As a measure of my good faith, I will turn you over to his care. He will convince you of my sincerity. Of course he may choose to betray me and keep you for himself.” With that Ahriman stepped back as Turambar Ard’Marith deftly entangled the prisoner in a slave snare and lead him back out of the room. Ahriman smiled.

*********

The soul stone gleamed with a pearlescent, iridescent inner fire. Through his fingers Ahriman could feel the soul presence inside. He stroked almost lovingly. ‘How did time pass inside? What was it like for the soul in there?’ he thought. Yet another subject for investigation at some time in the future. With neither reverence nor disdain he put the stone in a pouch with many others. Yes, he would return it one day. The key to all new thaumaturgical knowledge was the Black Library. It could only be reached through the Eldar. He knew that he could not buy his way in, but the return of soul stones established a relationship with both the Eldar and their Harlequin go-betweens. One day they would make a mistake. With that last thought Ahriman put on his robes, picked up his Staff of Power and went into the meeting.

The meeting chamber of the Coven of Nine was neither vast nor luxurious. Each of the eight other members of the Coven was a Supreme Sorceror Lord in their own right. They controlled whole planetary systems and thousands of warriors of their own. They were the strongest of the strong, Favored of Tzeentch, and yet still untouched by the warping effects of Chaos and the Ocularis Terribus around them. At times they all wondered how it was that the Rubric of Ahriman had worked on them individually when they tested its effects, but had that unusual side-effect when used on the entire Legion of the Thousand Sons. Each Lord had his own place at the table, all nominally equal, but the meetings were always held here at Ahriman’s fortress and would continue to be held here until another stronger appeared. Ahriman had no need to remind the other eight of his power. The simple room reminded them constantly how little he feared them. The trophy case at the end of the room containing, among other things, the remains of those who had challenged Ahriman reminded them why he feared them so little.

The Coven came to order as soon as Ahriman sat down and it was a measure of his nature that the first item discussed was the failure of the Warp Portal experiment. He made no excuses and blamed no subordinates. It had been his project and the ultimate responsibility was his. He offered in all sincerity to replace or make restitution for the equipment, sorcerors and captives destroyed, but of course, as he knew they would, the other eight Lords all insisted on sending even more of everything for the next attempt. They also all agreed with the necessity of tracking down and punishing whoever or whatever has been responsible for the disturbance in the Warp that had caused the fatal feedback.

“On this matter I may have some information,” he said. “One of my groups of raiders looking to capture new donors for our next attempt brought in other Eldar prisoners for interrogation. They were from the Iyanden Craftworld. The Eldar there still foolishly believe that the reason they have not been destroyed is because we cannot. It has not occurred to them that there may be reasons for me wanting them there and alive. The prisoners had some interesting information. On the planet we call Halo of Tzeentch, but they call The Tear of Khaine, the Eldar have found or lost, the prisoners did not know which, some sort of portal to the Webway. If we could recover or control this portal it would be of the greatest use in our researches and we might be able to use it to start mapping the Webway ourselves without having to rely on allies.”

“It is possible that this portal or its activation was responsible for our recent set-back. On the other hand, it may have nothing to do with it at all. Also, it was surprising that Eldar with this information were able to come into our hands at all. The were a patrolling force nowhere near the Halo of Tzeentch. Every test I was able to make shows that the prisoners believed what they told me, but we have all dealt with Eldar duplicity and cunning before. This may be a trap, or our information may be correct. If it is a trap, the bait seems specially crafted to catch us. This is the sort of thing that we would never ignore, never afford to ignore. However, duplicity and cunning are not purely Eldar traits. I have a plan.”

“We are continually bothered by the followers of He Who Is Not Named in this chamber. In particular, Lord Angron Marburg has been probing at the edge of our territories and diverting our precious resources to defense. What little pattern that there is to his raids suggests that he might be duped into pursuing a small force of ours to the Halo of Tzeentch. He might further be duped into attacking any Elder there, if the do not attack him first Whatever is there is very unlikely to be of any interest or use to him. We can the raid or assault at our pleasure after he has investigated for us.”

Thwarting He Who Is Not Named would be a useful exercise in itself. It would preserve their resources and weaken one or more enemy force as well. There was little discussion and the only point of contention was who would provide the bait force. Ahriman offered his own troops, but the others did not wish all the honor to go to him. They also didn’t trust him that far and, as powerful as he was, he could not stand up to the united forces of the other eight. He knew it and they knew it. In the end, the ‘honor’ fell to Nine, Exalted Sorceror Lord Mephisto Magnus. As the most junior of the Coven, he was deemed least likely to misuse anything he found or, in the event of misuse, be least likely of the other Lords to survive.

After the Coven had adjourned, Ahriman took the other lords on a personal tour of the wrecked laboratory where they could see for themselves the damage done and the power of the forces unleashed. They could also confirm that resources HAD been used, equipment HAD been destroyed, personnel HAD been killed and donors HAD been drained. The trusted Ahriman, but they trusted the evidence of their own precise and finely tuned senses more.