Forest of the Ancients 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

  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

  Seven months ago…

  The kitchen was deep in shadows, the house around them as silent as a crypt. They rifled through the cupboards as quietly as they could, Thanis and little white-haired Marlo, stuffing anything edible into the cloth sacks they carried. It was an old place, crumbling and ramshackle like most buildings in the city of Lifestone, notable only for a large painted sign outside: DONZIGER, it had read, MYSTIC BOTANIST. TRESPASSERS WILL SUFFER. But only Marlo could read it and even he didn’t know what half the words meant, so they’d broken in anyway, finding a loose window on the ground floor. It was their first stroke of luck, and also their last.

  Thanis didn’t enjoy thieving, but what choice did she have? The Scraps needed to eat. That was what their little gang called themselves: they were the leftovers of Lifestone, orphans and runaways. They were all young and all poor, but they were a family of sorts and they watched each other’s backs.

  Still, it was no way to live. The future had been on Thanis’s mind a lot lately, the knowledge that she was growing up fast and had no prospects besides stealing. She dreamed of doing something that mattered, bringing good into the world. She’d wanted to join the Lifestone Defenders – she was the right age and she had the muscle – but they wouldn’t take a street rat like her. Her fear was that she’d end up in one of the big gangs, the Scarlet Shadow or the Rotten Angels, beating people up for money. She’d rather starve.

  She was so lost in thought that she didn’t see the stack of plates until she’d already blundered into them. The sound was deafening, a clatter that could surely be heard all through the house. Marlo turned, his eyes wide as moons. Thanis winced apologetically. She wasn’t just getting too old for this life, she was getting too big and clumsy too.

  A door creaked. For a moment they froze.

  Then Thanis sprang into action, shouldering her sack and bolting for the window. She tried to help Marlo up, his hands scrabbling on the sill. But a voice called out, ‘Don’t move!’ and she pulled him down as something thudded into the wall overhead – a throwing axe.

  Thanis gulped. The place had looked so run-down, she’d been expecting a couple of house servants at most. But whoever this was, they meant business.

  She peered over the counter. Two men stood in the doorway grasping sturdy pikes. They were clad from head to toe in peculiar armour – padded leather gloves, shin-guards and helmets, and breastplates patterned with a four-leafed flower surrounding a mouth filled with thorns.

  ‘Come out,’ one called, ‘or we’ll have to wake our master. Trust me, you don’t want that.’

  They snickered and Thanis felt a chill. What was this place?

  Marlo tugged her sleeve, pointing a trembling finger. ‘L-look. Over there.’

  In the corner, almost hidden by the shadows, a small trapdoor was set into the floor – some sort of waste disposal, Thanis suspected. She nodded and they scrambled over, the stairs creaking behind them as the guards advanced. Marlo lifted the hatch; below it, all was blackness, a narrow brick-lined tunnel leading straight down. Thanis peered in, wondering if this was really the best idea. Then another axe hit the floor nearby and she shoved Marlo in, the boy tumbling into the dark.

  She jumped down after him, the walls closing on all sides. A thought leapt into her mind – what if they narrowed so much that they were trapped, stuck here like rats in a chimney?

  Then she crashed through another trapdoor, seeing Marlo’s startled face in lamplight as she landed in something warm and sticky. She breathed a sigh, and looked around.

  They were in a large metal container, and Thanis stifled a cry as she realised it was filled with wriggling shapes – some sort of larvae, fat and faintly glowing like squishy white ghosts. Lots of them had been flattened as she fell, and they were leaking luminous yellow slime.

  She helped Marlo up, then she heaved herself out. ‘Why would anyone need all these disgusting grubs?’

  ‘Maybe they’re b-breeding insects,’ Marlo said, wiping the slime from his face. ‘Or they could be feeding something bigger.’

  Thanis shuddered. ‘We need to get out of here.’

  They were in a long corridor with soft purple walls. They could hear the guards’ voices coming from up above – they couldn’t follow the children through the chute, not in that padded armour, but if they took it off… She picked a direction, tugging Marlo through a swinging door into another corridor with arched entrances on both sides. It curved right and they followed, through a shadowed hall and into yet another corridor. The house was bigger than it had looked from the outside, bigger than it had any right to be.

  ‘I wish Kaspar was here,’ Marlo said as they ran. ‘He’s the best thief in the city. This wouldn’t have happened to him.’

  ‘I’m trying my best,’ Thanis said. ‘Anyway, Kaspar’s been gone for days, no one knows where he is.’

  Marlo looked up in surprise. ‘But I thought he was your best friend?’

  ‘He is,’ Thanis said, tight-lipped. ‘And I’m sure he’s fine. Wherever he’s got to.’

  They could hear shouts behind them; the guards hadn’t given up the chase. They climbed a set of winding steps, losing their bearings entirely. Then Thanis shoved through a final door and skidded to a halt, taking a startled breath. Marlo came up behind her, his mouth dropping open.

  The ceiling of the space they’d stumbled into was several storeys high and made of large glass panes, all locked in a steel frame. Through it Thanis could see the distant moon, and beneath that a line of trees – a way out? Where the sloping roof met the ground she could even see a door, standing open.

  The problem was that between them and the exit was what could only be described as a jungle – a mass of foliage rising towards the roof, festooned with vines and creepers and huge flowers of a sickly yellow colour that made her eyes hurt. A path ran through the tangle of trunks but she was reluctant to take it; these plants looked… well, she couldn’t explain it, but they looked wrong.

  Thanis had lived in Lifestone all her life, never setting foot outside the city walls. Bricks and stone she knew and trusted; growing things were beyond her comprehension. People who left the city got eaten by dire wolves or l
ost in swamps, and she had no desire for that to happen to her.

  Marlo tugged her hand as shouts rose behind them. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘It’s not far.’

  They pushed into the undergrowth, parting the fronds like nervous explorers. There was a rustle, and Thanis’s head snapped round. Did something just move? Vines snaked across the path and nodding stems loomed on every side, topped with golden night-blooms bigger than cartwheels. The air was sickly sweet, with a smell like boiled honey and rotting meat.

  Then the rustling came again, and this time she saw what made it – one of the vines on the path slithered away as though guarding itself from her blundering feet.

  Marlo saw it too and gulped. ‘Do you think they’re… dangerous?’

  Thanis frowned. ‘They’re plants – they can’t hurt us. Right?’

  ‘What about the Sylvaneth?’ Marlo asked. ‘They’re plants and I heard they talk, and walk, and–’

  ‘What is the meaning of this?’ a voice boomed, just in front of them. They ducked back, hearts racing. ‘What are you doing in here, disturbing my beauties?’

  ‘We discovered thieves in the kitchens, your… masterfulness,’ another voice said, and Thanis saw the pair of guards approaching. ‘We think they came this way.’

  She peered through the fronds. A man stood by the glass door, wearing a long green robe. His fleshy face was pink with anger as he confronted the guards – they must’ve taken a different path, she realised, one that didn’t lead straight through the jungle. She looked at their padded armour and wondered. It was all starting to make some kind of disturbing sense.

  ‘Thieves?’ the man barked, spittle flying from his lips. ‘Didn’t they see my sign?’ Then he smiled. ‘Ah, but perhaps this is for the good. My darlings haven’t had a good feed for some time, have you? Had to survive on these filthy fleshgrubs.’

  He reached into his robe, pulling out a handful of larvae, and tossed them into the undergrowth. The plants twitched hungrily.

  Thanis glanced towards the door. Through it she could see an open lawn, and a wall just low enough to vault over. But how to get past without being seen?

  There was a shout and one of the guards spun round. A tendril had snaked from the bushes, brushing his neck. He raised his pike, but the old man held him back. ‘They won’t strike unless provoked.’

  Thanis bit her lip. An idea was forming. A terrible idea, but the only one she had.

  Pressing a finger to her lips she led Marlo forwards, trying not to disturb the plants rising around them. Now they were just a short distance from the door, and almost in view of the guards.

  ‘When I say go,’ she whispered, ‘run as fast as you can.’

  Marlo nodded silently. Thanis felt her heart thump. This was either the bravest thing she’d ever done in her life, or the stupidest.

  With a roar she leapt to her feet, throwing herself at the nearest guard and shoving him with all her might. He yelled in surprise as he tumbled into the wall of plants, his pike clattering to the floor.

  The effect was sudden and startling. Tendrils writhed like furious serpents, wrapping around the guard’s arms as he struggled to free himself. He shrieked as more lashed around his ankles, yanking him off his feet. Thanis could never be sure what happened next – she had the impression of a great yellow flower opening like a mouth, ringed with thorns, pulsating horribly. The guard vanished inside; there was a wet gulping sound and a single scream, quickly silenced.

  ‘Go!’ she shouted as Marlo scrambled for the door. The second guard was turning, lowering his pike to defend himself. But more creepers spiralled from the undergrowth, suckers latching on to his padded breastplate. The old man raised his hands, crying a string of mystical syllables that jarred on Thanis’s ears as she shoved Marlo forwards. She could feel the night air on her face.

  They were going to make it.

  Then a tendril lashed from the bushes, grasping on to Marlo’s exposed arm. He tried to pull away but the vine had taken hold, bulbs of stinging venom bursting on his skin. The tendril tightened and he was tugged off his feet, dragged away from the open doorway.

  Thanis grabbed his ankles, pulling in the opposite direction. But the plant was too strong; Marlo howled as his muscles stretched. Thanis cursed. There was only one thing for it.

  Dropping Marlo, she bared her teeth, launching herself at the tendril holding him. As she bit down she tasted vile sap and her tongue went numb, but she didn’t stop until the vine ripped in two, the severed stump writhing and spurting. Marlo dropped back and Thanis caught him, hoisting him on her shoulder and staggering through the doorway. The wall rose ahead of her and she clambered up, over and away into the dark.

  By the time they reached Bowerhome, the sun was coming up. The old mansion didn’t belong to the Scraps, of course; its only official occupant was a scatterbrained old woman named Adila, who swore that the Aelf-folk had built the place, and that one day they would return. Thanis couldn’t imagine it – the house and gardens were full of shadows and whispers, of tumbling stone and dry waterways, of arched dead trees that might have bloomed once but were now just skeletal outlines.

  The other Scraps jumped up as they entered, gathering round. Adila fetched her satchel, pulling out a bronze pot wrapped in muslin. She dipped her fingers in, and smeared a green balm on Marlo’s arm.

  ‘Extract of pancia root for the swelling, and a little drop of ulm oil for the pain. I learned this from the Aelves, you know. They were the best healers, so full of wisdom. I recall, one time–’

  Thanis cleared her throat. The old woman could ramble for hours if she wasn’t interrupted.

  Adila blinked, focusing on Marlo’s wound. ‘Yes, from the Aelves,’ she muttered. ‘Though someone told me that they might have got it from the Sylvaneth, the tree-people.’

  ‘You saw a Sylvaneth?’ Marlo asked excitedly. The mark on his arm was already starting to fade.

  Adila sighed. ‘No. But I know they used to visit Lifestone, once in a long while. They’re said to still haunt the Forest of the Ancients, out beyond the Everlight River, though that may be rumour.’

  Thanis frowned. She’d heard tales of the Sylvaneth – towering treelords, mystical branchwyches and fierce tree-revenants. Some of the kids found them thrilling but she didn’t see the appeal – trees that could think, and walk, and kill? That was her worst nightmare.

  Her own room was just along the passage, a square chamber with a skylight in the ceiling. She entered and closed the door, ready to drop. Then something moved in the shadows and she froze.

  ‘Show yourself. I’ve had a long night and I’m not in the mood for games.’

  ‘You mean you’re not happy to see me?’ a voice asked, a pale face emerging into the light. Kaspar’s black hair was a spiky mess, his cloak loose around his skinny body. But his hollow eyes flashed with delight as Thanis strode forwards, grabbing him with both hands and pulling him close.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she demanded. ‘And what are you doing lurking in the dark?’

  Kaspar grinned. ‘I like lurking in the dark, you know that.’

  ‘I’ve been worried,’ Thanis said. ‘We thought you’d been caught, or hurt, or…’

  ‘I was caught,’ Kaspar said. ‘Me, the best thief in Lifestone. Embarrassing. But I broke into the Arbour. I know, we always said it was too risky because of that old man, that Shadowcaster. I remember your exact words – of all the spooky loners in this city, he’s the spookiest.’

  ‘I may have changed my mind,’ Thanis said, thinking of the botanist and his carnivorous plants.

  ‘Well, it turns out he’s not so spooky anyway,’ Kaspar said. ‘In fact, he’s kind of amazing. I don’t know why I broke in, I suppose I felt like a challenge. And I figured there’d be artefacts in there – healers’ stuff from the old days. And there were, but he found me before I could steal any of it.

/>   ‘Actually it was this boy who caught me. His name’s Elio, the Shadowcaster’s pupil. Nice kid but sort of serious. Anyway, they were discussing what to do with me when the boy saw my birthmark and his eyes went all big, like–’

  He demonstrated, and Thanis laughed.

  ‘Vertigan, that’s the Shadowcaster’s real name, he said he’d been looking for kids with a mark like that. Elio has one, and Vertigan too. He said they’re important. When all the marks are brought together something will happen, something that can help the city, and maybe even the whole realm.’

  ‘But I’ve got a mark like that, too,’ Thanis said, exposing her wrist.

  ‘I know,’ Kaspar grinned. ‘That’s what I told Vertigan, and he wants to meet you.’

  Thanis stared into his shadowy grey eyes. Had he been magicked, somehow – had this Vertigan put a spell on him?

  ‘I’m still me,’ Kaspar insisted, as though reading her thoughts. ‘I promise.’

  Thanis reached beneath her blanket, pulling out the tiny pouch she kept there and dropping the coin it contained into her palm. ‘Faces I’ll come with you and see this Vertigan for myself,’ she said. ‘Crowns I’m staying here.’

  Kaspar smiled. ‘Fair enough.’

  Thanis balanced the coin on her fingers, willing it to pick the right path. Then she flipped, and watched it spiral up into the air.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Burn

  Elio lay on the balcony beneath the dome, his brown eyes wide and sightless. Thanis crouched, touching his cheek. His skin was cold. Kiri leaned in, inspecting the purple-veined burn in the centre of the boy’s forehead. Alish clutched his hand and Kaspar just looked away, biting his lip.

  The mark had been made by a fragment of warpstone, a mystical crystal that the ratlord Kreech had pressed into Elio’s head. They’d barely escaped the Skaven, fleeing back to their home at the Arbour, the crumbling palace in the city of Lifestone. At first, Elio’s wound hadn’t seemed too serious, just a fading red circle. But then he’d passed out, here on the high platform under the dome of the Atheneum, the great library that lay at the Arbour’s heart.