Lair of the Skaven Read online

  Book 1 CITY OF LIFESTONE

  Book 2 LAIR OF THE SKAVEN

  Book 3 FOREST OF THE ANCIENTS

  Book 4 FLIGHT OF THE KHARADRON

  Book 1 ATTACK OF THE NECRON

  Book 2 CLAWS OF THE GENESTEALER

  Book 3 SECRETS OF THE TAU

  Book 4 WAR OF THE ORKS

  Contents

  Cover

  Backlist

  Title Page

  The Mortal Realms

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Realms Arcana

  About the Author

  About the Artist

  An Extract from ‘Forest of the Ancients’

  Warhammer Adventures

  eBook license

  THE MORTAL REALMS

  Each of the Mortal Realms is a world unto itself, steeped in powerful magic. Seemingly infinite in size, there are endless possibilities for discovery and adventure: floating cities and enchanted woodlands, noble beings and dread beasts beyond imagination. But in every corner of the realms, battles rage between the armies of Order and the forces of Evil. This centuries-long war must be won if the realms are to live in peace and freedom.

  PROLOGUE

  Ten months ago…

  The morning sun crested the peaks above the city of Lifestone, painting the rooftops, the courtyards and the crumbling towers in hazy shades of gold. Elio stood at his window gazing up towards the Arbour, the vast, tumbledown palace at the top of the hill. Its white turrets pierced the sky and its shield wall stood like a row of sentinels, watching over the city. That would be his destination, once he was done here. Once he’d decided which of his possessions he could afford to take with him, and which he was leaving behind forever.

  He threw open his canvas satchel, stuffing in the weighty, leather-bound Beastarium that Vertigan had given him, along with a slender tome of local herblore. Around his neck he slipped a two-sided medallion bearing both the symbol of Sigmar’s twin-tailed comet and the mark of the Lords of Lifestone, a silver fountain in a circle of branches. Then he opened the wardrobe and thumbed through his collection of decorative gowns – three for feast days, two for diplomatic occasions and one bright orange one that his mother had insisted would make girls notice him. He grimaced. He didn’t need any of these. From now on his life would be free of formal dinners and dressing up. He was going to be a scholar.

  He selected a simple white robe from the back of the closet, and took a last look around the velvet-curtained chamber that had been his study and his refuge for as long as he could remember. There was the stain on the carpet where he’d spilled a cauldron of boiled ikara root – one of his first experiments trying to brew a healing potion, and all it had done was turn his hair green. There was the Wild Birds of Lifestone chart he’d drawn himself, after months of research. The Verdian goshawk had almost taken his eye out when he got too close to its nest.

  And there was the bed he’d slept in every night of his life, piled with cushions and coverlets. He wondered what would be waiting for him up at the Arbour – a nest of hay in the stables, an old stretcher in the medicus’s quarters. Whatever it was, it was better than the cold barracks his father had in mind. One way or another, he had spent his last night in comfort.

  He slung the satchel over his shoulder and crept to the door. The servants might wonder what he was doing wandering about at such an early hour, but they wouldn’t stop him; it wasn’t their place. So he stole out across the landing, tiptoeing past his father’s staterooms. The family portraits seemed to frown at him as he descended the winding stairs – generation after generation of lords, glaring in disapproval at this traitor to tradition.

  Elio lowered his head, crossing the pillared entrance hall with its twin shrines to the immortal King Sigmar and the Lady Alarielle. A pair of hunting dogs lay stretched by the fire, raising their heads as he passed. But the doors ahead stood wide, a pair of Freeguild guardsmen dozing in the entrance. He gripped his pack, forcing himself not to run. He was almost free.

  ‘Son,’ a voice said, and Elio’s heart sank into his leather boots. His father had always been a light sleeper. Or maybe he’d suspected this would happen. The Lord of Lifestone was nobody’s fool.

  Elio turned, feeling his cheeks burn. He’d rehearsed everything he was going to say if he was caught. But as he looked up into his father’s stern face, his mind went completely blank.

  Lord Elias strode down the steps, eyes flaming above his bristling black moustache. The silver fountain gleamed on his morning cloak, and his mouth was tight with anger.

  ‘I’d ask where you’re going, but I already know the answer. Well, you can forget it. You have a responsibility to your family and to your future, so put that bag down and return to your chambers.’

  Elio almost weakened, the instinct to obey rooted deep within him. But instead he gritted his teeth, reaching inside for the strength Vertigan had assured him was there.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Father, I’m leaving.’

  ‘You’re doing no such thing,’ Elias said dismissively. He wasn’t a tall man but he was a powerful one, and he would brook no insolence. ‘Your place at the barracks is prepared. You will report there at midday, leaving your childish books and your childish clothes and everything else behind. You will train with the Lifestone Defenders until you come of age, just as I did, and my father, and his father. You will become a man.’

  ‘I don’t want to be a man,’ Elio blurted, then realised how ridiculous that sounded. ‘I mean, that’s not the life for me. I don’t belong in the barracks.’

  ‘So where do you belong?’ the lord sneered. ‘With that crazy old man, that Shadowcaster? Learning how to sew and cook and boil up ointments?’

  ‘Vertigan is a warrior too. He’s going to teach me to defend myself.’

  ‘Ha!’ Elias snorted. ‘Good luck to him!’

  ‘I’ll be his apprentice,’ Elio insisted. ‘I’ll learn everything he has to teach.’

  ‘Has he told you this?’ Elias demanded. ‘Has he said you’ll be his apprentice?’

  Elio frowned. ‘Not in those exact words. But he’s taught me so much already. I’m going to help people, father. The way he does.’

  ‘Who does he help?’ Elias asked. ‘As far as I can see he just sits in that dusty old Arbour, brooding on the way things used to be. Well, I am more concerned with the ways things are now. You were born to rule this city, Elio. Born to be a soldier and a leader of men. You will go to the barracks if I have to march you there myself.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Elio insisted. ‘I’m going to join Vertigan. This is my life.’

  ‘No it is not!’ his father bellowed, stamping his foot so hard that the floor shook. ‘I brought you into this world. Your mother, Sigmar keep her, nursed you and raised you. And this great city sheltered you. You owe a debt, and you will repay it.’

  ‘Mother wanted me to be happy,’ Elio said. ‘She told me I should follow my heart.’

  Elias’s face softened, just for a moment. ‘Do you know the last thing she said to me? Keep him safe. Whatever else you do, keep him safe. And I intend to honour that request.’ He shook his head bitterly. ‘Honestly, what do you think she’d say if I let you shirk your responsibilities and go off with some crazy old coot whose past is always one step from catching up to him? This Vertigan of yours has enemies, t
he kind of enemies you couldn’t possibly conceive of.’

  ‘What do you mean, enemies?’ Elio asked, surprised. ‘He never–’

  ‘That old man’s past is his business,’ Elias said. ‘The future of Lifestone is mine. You’re my only son, Elio. What will happen when I pass on, and there’s no one to take my place?’

  ‘But I’m not saying I’ll never come back,’ Elio said. ‘When I’ve learned all I can from Vertigan I’ll return. Healers have been lords in the past, and scholars too. Back before… before…’

  ‘But this isn’t before,’ Elias said, lowering his voice so the servants couldn’t hear him. Elio had seen their faces in the shadows, watching intently. ‘This is now. This city is not what it was. It needs to be protected from those who wish it harm. The Lifestone Defenders have played that role for centuries, you should be proud to join their ranks.’

  ‘Vertigan says they used to be a force to be reckoned with,’ Elio told him, ‘but now they couldn’t fight their way out of a wool sack.’

  As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he’d gone too far. He hadn’t just insulted his city, but everything his father stood for. Elias’s cheeks flushed and for a moment he was so angry he couldn’t speak. Then he took a step back, drawing his ceremonial broadsword from its scabbard.

  ‘You always thought you were clever,’ he said. ‘If you’re clever enough to fight me and win, I’ll let you leave. How about that?’

  ‘I d-don’t…’ Elio stammered. ‘I don’t want to fight you, father. Anyway, I don’t have a blade.’

  ‘Give my son a sword!’ Elias screamed to the guards on the door.

  ‘But I’ll lose,’ Elio protested as one of them brought him a two-handed sabre. ‘You’re older and stronger and you’ve been doing this all your life.’

  ‘Precisely,’ Elias said. ‘I have earned the right to be obeyed by my own son. Now take it.’

  Elio was surprised by the sword’s weight. He fumbled, almost dropping it.

  ‘Hold it up,’ Elias demanded. ‘Come on, we don’t have all day.’

  ‘I w-won’t fight you,’ Elio said, starting to sob.

  ‘Stop whimpering and swing it!’ Elias barked. ‘Come on, if you hate me so much, hit me.’

  ‘I can’t!’ Elio screamed back. His vision was blurred, his heart racing. He saw the shadow of his father’s blade and moved to block it, but he was much too slow. He felt the flat striking his backside, heard the clatter as his own sword dropped to the flagstone floor. ‘Father, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No,’ Elias said. ‘You don’t get to call me that any more. I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know what you are. You’re ungrateful, you’re disrespectful, you don’t care about this family or this city. You’re no soldier. You’re no lord. And you’re certainly not my son.’

  Elio raised his head. Elias’s expression was one he knew from long experience. It was the one he’d worn when a kitchen maid stole his silver censer; the one he’d worn when two of his guards were caught drinking on duty. It was the expression he’d worn when a silk-spider had bitten him, right before he crushed it with his heel.

  He waved a hand. ‘Get out before I have these men arrest you, for intruding in the lord’s manse.’

  ‘F-father,’ Elio managed. ‘Please, d–’

  ‘Go.’ The word fell like a stone.

  Elio backed to the doors, his pack heavy on his shoulder. He felt the servants’ eyes on him, saw them turn one by one and slip back to their duties. The manse was silent, but through the open doorway he could hear Lifestone waking. He hung his head, and left his home forever.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Light of Teclis

  ‘Good-good man-things!’ the Skaven stammered, clutching the rune-covered staff and retreating fearfully. ‘Nice, gentle man-things, have mercy on a poor, pitiful Skaven, yes-yes!’

  Elio stepped forwards, backing the furry, fanged rat-creature into a corner. ‘Why should we show mercy? You showed none when you invaded our home and tried to kill us.’

  ‘Or when you kidnapped our master,’ Thanis added. She was covered in bruises and her red hair was a wild tangle. ‘That’s his staff you’re holding. I suggest you give it back before I take it from you.’

  Hundreds of Skaven had attacked the Arbour the night before, swarming through the palace and attacking the five children and their master, Vertigan. They’d managed to drive the creatures back, but then the Skaven leader, Kreech, had sent rats to burrow up through the floor and snatch Vertigan from right under their noses. He was dragged through a mystical gnawhole between the realms, leaving his staff behind. And now they’d caught this creature trying to sneak off with it.

  The Skaven bowed, holding out the staff. Thanis snatched it. ‘Now please-please,’ the creature whimpered pitifully. ‘Let this poor-poor vermin go.’

  ‘Not yet,’ Kiri said, holding up a hand. She was the newest member of the group, and Elio still wasn’t sure he trusted her. She and Vertigan had had some kind of encounter yesterday, a run-in with a mysterious hooded lady that had left their master too weak to repel the Skaven when they attacked. Kiri claimed she couldn’t remember everything that had happened.

  ‘If you give us information,’ she said to the creature, ‘we’ll consider letting you go.’

  Its black eyes narrowed. ‘What sort of information, girl-thing?’

  ‘Where have you taken our master?’ Elio asked.

  ‘What’s through that realm-hole… thing?’ Thanis added.

  ‘Who is this Kreech, and why did he come after us?’ Kiri finished.

  The Skaven’s lips drew back over slavering fangs – it was smiling, Elio realised. ‘Kreech is our packlord, servant of the Great Horned Rat and leader of the Clan Quickfang. And your master is safe-safe in our warren. You will never see his ugly man-thing face again.’

  ‘Where is this warren?’ Elio asked. ‘Through the gnawhole? How many Skaven are on the other side?’

  ‘Many thousands,’ the creature grinned. Then a thought occurred and it shook its head hurriedly. ‘No, few-few. Not many at all.’

  Thanis threw up her steel-gloved hands. ‘It’s just saying whatever comes into its head.’

  ‘Why did Kreech take our master?’ Elio demanded. ‘What makes him so special?’

  The Skaven cackled. ‘Kreech does not need me to know these things. He only needs me to fight-bite!’ And it ducked its snout, shoving into Elio and trying to flee.

  Elio stumbled as the creature slammed past him, baring its fangs. But Thanis swung low with Vertigan’s staff, knocking the Skaven off its clawed feet and sending it tumbling across the tiled floor. It lay dazed for a moment, then it scrambled towards the door.

  ‘Get back here,’ Thanis growled, lunging forward. ‘You miserable little–’

  Kiri took her arm, holding her back. ‘Let it go. We’ve got enough to worry about, and like you said it’ll only tell us lies.’

  Elio picked himself up, brushing off his tunic. Then he reached out to take the staff from Thanis. ‘Vertigan would want me to have it,’ he said. ‘I was his apprentice, after all.’

  Thanis’s eyes narrowed. ‘You were, were you?’ she asked doubtfully. Then she sighed and handed it over. ‘Makes no difference to me.’

  They turned back to the centre of the old library, where the little inventor Alish crouched beside the sinkhole that the rats had chewed in the floor, the one they’d dragged Vertigan down into. She was studying the Light of Teclis – a gauntlet-shaped artefact crafted from black metal, with a white moonstone set into the centre. They’d learned of its existence from Vertigan’s personal journal, a large, dusty tome that Alish held in her free hand. The book had explained how powerful Skaven mystics were able to chew holes in the fabric of reality itself, opening gates between the realms. The Light of Teclis could reopen the gnawhole, allowing non-Skaven to pass th
rough. Or at least it was supposed to, if only they could figure out how it worked.

  ‘Let me try,’ Elio said, taking the device from Alish and studying it closely. Vertigan’s book explained all about the ratmen and how they lived, but it said nothing about how the Light of Teclis actually operated. Elio pointed the central moonstone down into the gnawhole and concentrated as hard as he could. Nothing happened.

  ‘Maybe you need to say an incantation,’ Thanis suggested.

  ‘Or maybe you need to be a witch hunter to wield it,’ Alish said, echoing Elio’s own fears. That was the other important fact they’d learned last night – all the time they’d known him, Vertigan had secretly been a member of the Order of Azyr, an ancient society in service to Sigmar and committed to rooting out evil across the realms. Elio didn’t know why the master had never taken him into his confidence – he would’ve kept the secret safe, even from the others. But now Vertigan was gone, and Elio didn’t have the knowledge or expertise necessary to get him back.

  ‘Or maybe it’s just useless,’ he said, slipping the Light from his hand. ‘May as well just chuck it in the–’

  ‘Wait,’ Kiri said. ‘Let me try something.’ She took the device from him, climbing down into the gnawhole. She gripped the gauntlet, then with her free hand she touched the mark on her wrist, the black rune that each of them bore a version of, even Vertigan. These birthmarks symbolised the different realms – all except for Azyr, whose power was too great for any mortal to bear.

  Kiri shut her eyes, squeezing tighter. Elio felt a vibration in the air, like a whisper just beyond the limits of his hearing. The pages of the book riffled silently, then a beam of white radiance burst from the moonstone, lighting up the sides of the tunnel.

  Kiri gasped in amazement. ‘It’s working!’

  Alish grinned. ‘Incredible!’

  Kiri held her arm steady. ‘I saw Vertigan drawing strength from his mark last night,’ she said. ‘So I thought maybe…’