the guard be increased。 Pozhar didn’t want them to see that he was awake； couldn’t let them suspect
that his conscience was troubling him。 The back of his right hand itched； but he didn’t dare scratch
it。
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He didn’t know why he had done it。
He had woken from a vivid and troubling dream； had perhaps been half…dreaming still。 It had
taken him a minute to work out where he was； to identify the shapes around him as those of his
comrades； to see the vox…caster on the floor beside the hatchway； to remember…
In the dream； Steele had contacted the Imperial Navy on that caster。 They had told him that the
search for the confessor had become too dangerous； that they were sending another lander for his
squad； that Cressida was to be left to its new masters。 The details were hazy； but Pozhar thought he
remembered an army of cultists and mutants； laughing。 Laughing at the Ice Warriors as they turned
their backs on their mission； as they turned and ran。
He had acted on instinct。 He had seen that Grayle had abandoned his post。 No one was watching
him。 It had all been exactly as Blonsky had said： one las…beam； one squeeze of his trigger。 He hadn’t
even thought about the sound it would make。 As the other Ice Warriors had woken； Pozhar had
dropped back onto his blanket and pretended to be waking too； although his heart had been
hammering in his chest and he had felt a cold flush down his back。
His right hand was itching like crazy now。 He shifted his position； carefully； until he could reach
it with his left。 Steele and Gavotski had searched everyone； again as Blonsky had suggested。 Pozhar
had been certain he would pass their inspection； but still he had felt relieved to be given the all…clear。
The verdict had reaffirmed his belief in himself； reassured him that although he couldn’t explain
what he had done； he had done it for the right reasons。 For the Emperor。
His questing fingers found the back of his right hand； and Pozhar froze in horror as he felt
something unfamiliar； something strange； something that had not been there an hour ago： a tuft of
fur。
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CHAPTER TEN
Time to Destruction of Cressida： 23。53。42
The first avalanche was a small one。
The Ice Warriors had been expecting it。 Still； all they could do was brace themselves as the snow
shifted beneath their feet — and hope； of course； that this small slide would not trigger a bigger one。
They had faced a choice this morning： take the well…trodden roads to Mangellan’s stronghold；
the erstwhile Iota Hive； facing the likelihood of more encounters with the enemy en route； or
attempt to approach through treacherous； snow…laden hills。 Steele； being unlike many other
commanders； had opened the question to debate。 It had been the only time so far today that his
troopers had spoken more than two words to each other。
The accusations of the previous night hung like a dark cloud over them。 Even Palinev； although
still scouting ahead； reported back more frequently than he had done yesterday； as if thinking that
too long an absence might arouse the suspicions of his comrades。 He might have been right。
Everyone was watching each other； and Steele could hardly blame them。 He was watching too。
They waited for the snow to settle； and then they moved on in silence。
As they rounded the edge of a hill； the contours of the land brought the hive back into view； just
a few kilometres ahead of them。 The sight made Steele’s stomach turn。 Every horizontal surface of
the city was thick with snow； every vertical plane iced over。 It looked unreal； like a life…sized model
sculpted from the ice。 There was no doubt at all that the Chaos infection of Cressida had Iota Hive in
the firmest of grips； had corrupted it beyond all hope of reclamation。
This morning； Steele’s squad had agreed that they stood a better chance against the perils of
their environment than they did against more of Mangellan’s followers。 Even Pozhar had not argued
too strongly for a full…frontal approach to the hive。 In fact； he seemed unusually subdued； although
whether this was due to the events of last night or to his damaged gun arm； Steele could not say。
He was starting to wonder if they had made the wrong choice。
His men had all been brought up on Valhalla； these surroundings looked almost familiar to them。
They thought they knew all the perils that the snow and the ice could bring； were alert for the
warning signs — and if the worst should happen； as it had on the frozen lake； then they thought they
knew how to minimise the consequences。 A squad from any other world would have been dead by
now； for the Ice Warriors of Valhalla； this was just a morning stroll。
But as Gavotski had pointed out inside the glacier； the water on this world had been infected too。
And the snow and the ice didn’t always behave as it should。
The second avalanche was bigger。 Much bigger。
Steele couldn’t blame anyone in his squad for setting it off。 It started high above them； and came
crashing down at them like a tidal wave。 It might have been a natural consequence of recent
snowfall upon hard…packed ice — but the timing of it； at least； was suspicious。
The Ice Warriors； minus Palinev； were spread out across a hillside； keeping a short distance
between each of them in case of just such an occurrence — but the avalanche was in the perfect
spot； and exactly wide enough； to threaten all eight of them。
Barreski and Grayle were at the greatest risk。 They were closest to the centre of the flow； the
point at which the snow would be moving its fastest。 They knew they couldn’t outrun it — an
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avalanche of this size could reach a speed of two hundred kilometres per hour — but they used the
few seconds they had before it hit to make a sprint for its edge； as did their comrades。
Gavotski and Steele； who had been respectively leading the procession and following at its rear；
had the least far to go。 Steele ran for all he was worth； but still it wasn’t enough。 It could never have
been enough。 He turned his back to the avalanche as it reached him； and prepared for the impact。
It felt as if a rug had been pulled out from under him。 He maintained his balance for as long as
he could； but he was soon swept away。 He pedalled with his arms and legs； as if swimming；
knowing that to resist the tide would be futile； attempting to ride it instead。 The landscape flashed by
to each side of him； and Steele could only hope that he wouldn’t be dashed against something solid。
He was aware of Blonsky being carried alongside him — and of Anakora； who had managed to
grab a sturdy tree before the snow hit and was clinging to it for dear life； being left behind。 He did
the best he could to keep track of them both； as he knew they would be doing for the comrades to
each side of them。
Steele went under several times； and his mind flashed back to the frozen lake。 He was
determined not to be buried； not to lose consciousness again — and so； each time he was engulfed；
he kicked and he thrashed； and he put all the strength he had into his swimming stroke； and he
resurfaced。
After what seemed like an age； it was over。 Steele was half…buried； breathless； but still able to
dig himself free and climb to his feet。 He had only been carried a short distance； but his
surroundings looked very different to him now。 The shifting snow had formed new contours； and
covered old landmarks。 Closing his one good eye； the colonel reoriented himself by his internal
compass。
He found Anakora first； three hundred metres up the slope behind him； still holding onto her
tree； although she had been buried up to the chest。 She was stronger than she looked； he thought。
She was also safe。
He couldn’t say the same for Blonsky。 There was no sign of him。 He had to have gone under。
Steele hurried to the spot at which he had last seen him； and soon found a single gloved hand
protruding from the snow； its fingers waggling in a feeble attempt to summon help。 Fortunately； the
snow hadn’t set too hard yet； and Steele was able to scoop handfuls of it away； to reveal Blonsky’s
head。 A minute later； he had freed an arm too； and he knew his trooper could do the rest for himself。
“G…Grayle；” gasped Blonsky； raising a hand to point — and； joined by Anakora； who had
managed to free herself； Steele repeated the whole process again； until a fourth Ice Warrior was
dragged spluttering to the surface。 Fortunately； Grayle had been able to make an air hole for himself
as the snow had settled around him； otherwise he would have suffocated。
When the avalanche had started； Pozhar had been a few metres behind Sergeant Gavotski。 However；
he was young and he was fast； and he had easily overtaken the older man。 Relatively safe on the
edge of the flow； he had surfed the snow with consummate skill and exulted in the head rush it gave
him。 In so doing — he had realised too late — he had quite lost track of his sergeant。
He had clambered over the freshly turned snow； yelling for Gavotski； his stomach churning with
the thought that he had failed this man of all men； his mentor； his sponsor。 His hand had started to
itch again； beneath his glove； and Pozhar would have sworn that at that moment he could feel the
grey fur spreading across it。
He had located Gavotski at last； worried that he might have left him buried too long。 He had
tried to dig down to him； but his bad arm had slowed him too much。 Fortunately； Palinev had seen
the avalanche from ahead； and returned to assist him。
Gavotski had not questioned the delay in his rescue； doubtless assuming that Pozhar had had his
own problems。 He had led the way to the next Ice Warrior instead； and now he and Palinev were
digging for Mikhaelev。 Pozhar hung back for fear of getting in their way。 He felt useless。 Useless
and ashamed。 And for the first time； he wondered if he might deserve what was happening to him
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after all； if the fur on his hand was a warning that he could do better； that he wasn’t serving the
Emperor to the fullest of his ability。 That he could have saved Borscz。
He vowed that； from this moment on； he would try even harder； become even more fierce in the
execution of his duty。 He would cleanse Iota Hive of the Chaos filth single…handedly if he had to； or
die in the attempt。
Then Pozhar heard a sound behind him — the soft crunch of a footstep in the snow — and he
whirled around； and caught a glimpse of a grey…furred mutant as it ducked out of sight。 He grinned
and offered up a grateful prayer to the Emperor for giving him this chance to prove himself so soon。
His comrades were still occupied； hadn’t seen anything — and something stopped Pozhar from
calling to them。 This was his test； not theirs。 He crept away from them； and only built up speed once
he knew they could no longer see him； as he rounded the side of the hill down which the avalanche
had come。
This was probably the same mutant that had stalked the Ice Warriors outside the Aquila； and
before that in the ice forest。 Barreski and Grayle had already failed to kill it； as had Steele himself。
Pozhar would not fail。
His enemy had made a mistake。 Post…avalanche； the snow was deep and smooth and
undisturbed； like a virgin fall。 The mutant was trying to hide from him； but it had left a clear trail。 It
would no