Dark Evangel

Chapter Six—Interrogator Evangeline

200.M41

—in the combating of every danger—the threat from Without, the threat from Within, and the threat from Beyond; the Alien, the Heretic, and the Daemon—

"THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS!"

Inquisitor Tobias slammed his hand—thankfully without his customary power-armour—into the rich, dark wood of the circular meeting table.

The table itself was about three metres in diameter, and finished with a gleaming chestnut lacquer. Twelve robed persons sat around it: eleven men and a woman. The chamber in which they sat was of bare hewn rock, and dim; each person had a weakly-glowing globe above their heads, casting just enough light around their bared heads to ensure they were not within shadow.

Lord Inquisitor Feldspar sat at the head of the table, directly across from Tobias, fingers laced beneath green robes. "I believe you confuse your own petulance with our proceedings."

Tobias sat up, arms crossed over his russet robe. "'Petulance?!' You believe my outrage to be mere petulance?! Lord Feldspar, I must protest most earnestly against the mere contemplation—let alone consideration—of allowing the accused witch into the ranks of the Inquisition!"

"You don't like psykers," drawled Inquisitor McCann, seated exactly midway to Tobias's left and Feldspar's right. He brushed at the front of his chrome-blue robe. "Get over it."

"I am tasked with the eradication of the witch wherever he or she is found!" Tobias shouted. "The mere fact of this… woman's existence is anathema to my being, my very soul!"

"Some day, you and I might settle that remark in a duel," McCann replied idly.

"Is he always this well-tempered?" came a quiet, sarcastic, aristocratic woman's voice from behind McCann's chair. Evangeline sat about five paces behind McCann; she was barely visible in the half-light, her lank yellow hair running from under the hood of the black cowl she wore, which just failed to cover her smirk.

Over top the cowl she wore a black gown, which ran just shy of her ankles and wrists and blended into the black stone from which her chair was made. A heavy black metal collar, thick like a fist and chiselled with tiny silvered script, encircled her whole neck; her hands were cuffed with black iron rings, thick like two fingers, embedded into the chair's stubby arms.

"BE SILENT UNTO DEATH, WITCH!" Tobias bellowed, leaping up and pointing an accusatory finger in her general direction.

"Tobias. Sit," ordered Feldspar. Tobias complied, subsiding with ill-grace, his face taking on the same hue as that of his cloak. Feldspar inclined his head slightly in Evangeline's direction. "If Inquisitor Tobias is no example, let me be clear: You—as he—are here at my sufferance and yet you—unlike he—are a prisoner of the Witch Hunters. Hold your tongue."

Thus delivered of his orders, Feldspar's gaze swept around the table, starting with the man on his right and proceeding counter-clockwise, through McCann, to Tobias, past them to the sole woman—seated opposite McCann—and finally to the man seated at his left.

"Inquisitor Ferracci, you graciously accepted my invitation to join this round-table as the sole Inquisitor Xenos among the task-force."

"It is my duty and burden to bear," replied Ferracci, his mint-green robes glinting with gold trim and woven-in flowing script. "However, I will recuse myself from the decision; this appears to be an internal matter of the Ordos Governing Council, so I will merely include my presence here in my report, out of propriety." He raised his hood.

Feldspar nodded and moved to the man on Ferracci's left. "Severus Zek."

Zek shook his head, his ivory-trimmed black hood flapping about his shoulders. "Hell, no. She's too powerful for me to decide what to do with her. I'll abide by the decision at the end." He raised his hood.

"Romana Pulchritudina?"

The sole female Inquisitor tilted her head thoughtfully as she regarded the shadowed form behind McCann. "I am in favour of her investiture and training, and of watching her strictly; she is far too powerful to let go, maybe even to kill." She smiled at McCann. "Watch her well, Alactus." She raised her hood.

"Ramsey?"

The white-haired Inquisitor to Romana's left shook his head, silver wire glinting on his black robes. "She is far too powerful to leave alive, no matter that the power could be used. I say slay her, out of much caution." He raised his hood.

"Al-Murad?"

The brown-skinned, blond-haired al-Murad shook his head. "Too powerful. Kill her." He raised the hood of his sandy robe.

"Tobias." Feldspar's voice was rich with sarcasm. Tobias snorted and raised his hood.

"Orl Platt?"

"No," the grey-haired Platt drawled, "I'm too old for this, even if you are not, Lord. Kill her." He drew up the grey hood of his cloak.

"Børgarten."

Børgarten drew a hand through his sandy-blond hair and blew through his lips. "She's too powerful to lose, but too powerful to risk keeping. It's safest to kill her." He drew up the hood of his dark green robe with a shake of his head.

"McCann. Of course, you support her entry to the Ordos, given you are sponsoring her."

"I fear I might alienate my noble colleagues with my intransigence," McCann replied softly, his eyes sweeping the gathering. "I apologize if my comment prejudices the process, but most of the Witch Hunters here sanction her death out of an overabundance of caution. Several of you are psykers yourselves, your talents put to use in the service of the Golden Throne. I too favour closely watching Evangeline as she grows, precisely for this reason."

"And what makes you think you're qualified?" growled Tobias.

McCann fixed Tobias with an icy stare. "Besides my rank of Senior Inquisitor, to which you have yet to defer, Tobias?" He rose and clenched his fist before him. "Because I am the most powerful psyker in this room, aside from Evangeline!" he snarled in a guttural voice, his eyes aflame.

Every single person in the room—aside from Evangeline and Feldspar—growled or hissed at that.

"I speak the truth," McCann continued in a normal voice, "and any objective measure would show the truth of this."

"Are you powerful enough to stop her, should it come to that?" Romana asked.

"Her power is sublime, granted from the foot of the Golden Throne itself. If she proves false, I shall be well-rewarded with death for my folly, not least of which would come from you, and rightly so, noble Romana. I have spoken." McCann sat and drew up his hood.

"Al-Azzam?"

The young dark-haired man to McCann's left shrugged. "I feel it would be prudent to watch her. She would be my colleague in the Malleus; to do otherwise would be insulting, and dereliction of duty." He drew up his dark-blue hood.

Feldspar turned finally to Inquisitor Strang, seated at his right hand. "Inquisitor Strang? You witnessed her assault on the traitors first-hand. What say you?"

"I echo the sentiments of Proctor Whardson and Commissar Nixios. She is dangerous; then again, so are we all. It would be cautious to kill her; then we would be bereft of her power in the battle against evil. I cannot foresee the consequences of our actions today; such is in the hands of the Master of Mankind, in whose Name we act, and I do not begrudge you the weight of duty, for I have no counsel to offer you. I must do penance for my failure to provide." He raised his hood.

—thou standeth alone, though thou hast brothers at thy side, we ask thee:—

—dost thou take up the holy mantle, to fight as the Emperor's own—

—though thou art beset by fear, doubt, and hesitation—

—bedevilled by temptation—

—set upon by all the Emperor's foes—

—what dost thou say—

—Interrogator Evangeline?

202.M41

"Interrogator Evangeline?"

The tall hooded figure gave a start. A vision of long, straight blonde hair, framing delicate, aristocratic, feminine cheeks and lips, stared back from the glass; beyond, the vastness of space stretched, itself mirrored in the sparkling blackness of the floor-length hooded gown she wore.

She turned at the sound of the man's hoarse voice and smiled. "Lord Chamberlain Massyngberde. Always a pleasure." She swept her right hand to her heart and dipped her head, her left hand grasping her gown and tugging it into a curtsy, just high enough to clear the soft slipper-shoes on her feet.

"Greetings to you, Interrogator Evangeline." The white-robed Massyngberde swept his hand to his breast in turn as the door behind him slid shut automatically. In his left hand he bore the staff of his office, a deep brown sceptre taller than he who bore it, delicately inscribed with Imperial prayers in gold and topped with a perfectly spherical ruby. Massyngberde was slightly stooped, and so the sceptre doubled handily as a walking stick; he often said in ironic jest that the weight of his office had bedraggled him, so it was only fair that the symbol of his authority should do its part to bear him up. His long hair and beard were full and white, with a hint of silver-grey undertones the only remnant of his once wine-red hair; a cowl covered his head as well, an Inquisitorial "I" stitched in red-and-gold wire prominent upon the brow. "I apologize for startling you."

"Not at all, Lord Chamberlain," Evangeline replied. She fished her right hand into a hidden seam on her left pectoral, drawing forth a gold pocket-watch and clicking it open; it glinted dully in the low light. "It seems I have quite lost track of time."

"That tends to happen aboard void-faring ships, if you are not accustomed to it."

Evangeline spared a smile for Massyngberde as she pocketed the watch. "Of course, that makes your life more difficult; I'm sure you don't need me misplacing things you'll undoubtedly have to find later."

"Ah, how very sweet of you, Interrogator, to be concerned for the health of this humble servant," Massyngberde replied as he made his way to Evangeline's side.

"I was, perhaps, slightly more concerned for the effect it might have on our noble master," Evangeline murmured slyly.

Massyngberde puffed air through his lips, as close as he might come to snorting without harming his dignity. "Hence my presence here. He was growing only mildly concerned that perhaps you had become sidetracked in preparing for our celebrations."

"Quite," Evangeline replied softly. She turned back to the window.

"Memories?" Massyngberde asked, his voice a whisper.

"Aye," she replied, as softly. "Memories of many things."

"Your investiture among them, no doubt," Massyngberde returned, slightly pointedly.

Evangeline's thoughts flashed briefly back at that...

On the authority of Lord Inquisitor Feldspar, a summary of the conclave's initial findings regarding the Thousand Sons incursion on Rex Codalaron went out among the close-knit ranks of the Ordos Kurion in 201. Included among the preliminary reports was Evangeline's story, from her destructive appearance to the recommendation to sanction her and invest her as McCann's dedicated pupil.

It was not, as might be inferred, solely within Lord Feldspar's power to immediately grant Evangeline the status of Inquisitorial aspirant, though his will carried strongly even against the contra-current of his underlings. Most of the Inquisitors who formed the Conclave were Ordo Hereticus, and so spoke directly to their superior to offer him counsel when they suggested "slay her".

However, as those who supported Evangeline's induction were both Ordo Malleus and senior Inquisitors at that, greater weight fell to the final decision by the Governing Council of the Ordos Kurion—as stated succinctly by Inquisitor Ferracci. In the end, the Master of the Hereticus and the Master of the Malleus brought their bi-partisan agreement before the Grandmaster, who acknowledged their recommendation to co-operate in Evangeline's initial scrutiny and training, as well as other quid pro quo arrangements to make things go smoothly.

Chamberlain Massyngberde knew the "public" details of Evangeline's acceptance to the Ordos, but he also knew much of the rest—such as her amnesia and her instinctual homage to the Emperor—for McCann had often consulted his most trusted advisor on various moral and spiritual matters, particularly charging Massyngberde with overseeing Evangeline's spiritual growth in the Imperial Creed. In this way McCann could train her in the psyker's arts without the conflict of interest or paranoia of worrying that he might miss signs of corruption—or equally bad, coddling her to the point that her soul's strength was less than her mind's.

It was these intimate ties that Massyngberde had with both McCann and Evangeline that saw him fit to act as a witness for Evangeline's investiture; as McCann's confidante, and now as Evangeline's, Massyngberde knew all but the very deepest secrets of both, and now—as he had years before—he assisted the Ordos in absorbing the trust of a new member...

Emmanuel Massyngberde was over one-hundred-fifty years old. He served as a valet and confidante to Valentyne Rowe, paterfamilias of the Rowe Family. When Valentyne was implicated in a treasonous plot and murdered, his son Ezekiel took the reigns and the house was thrown from uproar into desperation.

Collaborating with a brave interrogator who had infiltrated the staff to gather evidence on the plot, Massyngberde aided the Inquisition in exposing the hidden cult with whom Ezekiel had colluded in his treachery.

With House Rowe shown to be too corrupt or incompetent to remain standing, it was dissolved and its assets were disbursed. Massyngberde himself was recruited as a companion to the brave interrogator, to serve the Inquisition with his loyalty and his perceptive mind in its dealings with other noble houses.

And who was the interrogator who had saved the honour of House Rowe though its dissolution? That man was Sebastiano Urquart, who later became Inquisitor Urquart of the Ordo Hereticus, taking—in later years—as his prized pupil Alactus McCann.

Urquart and Massyngberde served together for many years, the latter becoming the confidante of the former. Massyngberde was Urquart's moral compass; as Urquart matured and became an Inquisitor in his own right, his youthful zeal cooled into pragmatism, and Massyngberde carried Urquart through doubt and temptation, as much a confessor as any cleric. Indeed, it would be correct to say that Inquisitor Urquart played Devil's Advocate, and Massyngberde showed which way led to what Urquart called "the straight road."

It was Massyngberde who noticed the young Alactus McCann and suggested Urquart take the young man on as a pupil. McCann, much like Massyngberde, discovered corruption and made the choice to do what was just, not what was easy. He survived the ordeal—which revealed his psychic potential—and his strength of will saw him pronounced fit to join the Holy Ordos.

Years later, upon McCann's elevation to Inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus, Urquart transferred much of his household—including Massyngberde's services—to his now-former pupil. Though no one spoke of it, they knew that Urquart's time in service to the Holy Inquisition was drawing to a close; Urquart died some years later in the middle of a quiet investigation. Though never proven, it was widely suspected that some faction within the Ordo Hereticus brought about Urquart's assassination for political gain.

Though Massyngberde grieved for the death of the one man whom he could call friend, and though his vitality dimmed thenceforth, he maintained his quiet strength and continued his service to the Emperor though McCann.

Diligent without being onerous, pious without being preachy, attentive to detail without being demanding, and patient and steady without being immovable, Massyngberde's quiet resolve always allowed him to talk his way out of any situation that didn't involve bullets or las-blasts already shrieking through the air...

Evangeline considered the story of Massyngberde's past, recounted to her by Inquisitor McCann, as she pondered his remark about her investiture. "That and more, Lord Chamberlain," she replied at length. "I was pondering the past; the choices we made; fate..."

"There is only service to the Emperor; the Emperor Protects," Massyngberde intoned.

"Well, in the time we have taken here, we likely could have completed tonight's service to the Emperor and had time for an additional Throne Grace," Evangeline replied sardonically.

Massyngberde shook his head and sighed. "Dearest Interrogator, how you vex me. With your disregard for the sanctity of the Most Holy, how ever can you hope to achieve the greatness that is concomitant with service to the Holy Ordos?" He turned and headed for the door, Evangeline walking along beside him.

"Are they indeed the Most Holy Ordos?" she replied, quietly sarcastic, as they entered the dimly-lit hall. "If Witchfinder Tobias is indicative of the piety I might find among my most lauded peers and betters, I might wonder more why fewer among Men retire to the cloister. A lifetime among that kind of piety seems preferable."

Massyngberde turned slightly as he walked; from beneath Evangeline's hood he could discern a smirk that was slightly less acidic than the tone of her voice.

He replied, softly, "Indeed, often the righteous become self-righteous in pursuit of their goal. It has been my honour to serve honourable men all my life, and better still to serve as the adjunct to their devotion before the Throne. If that is impious, I shall stand before the Emperor's feet ere long and repent."

"I thank you, kind Chamberlain, for the attention you have paid me in instructing me in the way of the Imperial Creed," Evangeline said. "I know I have vexed you with my ignorant, heathen ways—though perhaps less so than my incurably profane attitude—but still and all, I know in my heart that the Emperor has laid His hand upon my heart, and that is the hand of fate; no mortal man may dare gainsay the Emperor's Will, nor his Divine Plan, and woe betide he who, in judging himself the superior in grace, finds himself stumbling."

Massingberde's eyebrows rose. "You quote the scripture well."

Evangeline smiled wolfishly. "I have a good teacher."

"Well, dear Interrogator, you shall have plenty to consider this night at Candlemass." Massingberde halted a moment, closing his eyes. "It is my favourite among all of the Imperial High Holy Days, and no less is its dignity for the plainer way we celebrate it aboard a moving ship. Indeed, as I pause here, I hear the throb and rumble of this ship—its engines, its air recyclers—and I feel the Emperor's beating heart. And more than that, even in this darkness, I feel—as if far off, and faint, but clear—the Ray of Hope."

Evangeline too had halted beside Massyngberde; now she closed her eyes as well. "I feel it too, always in the quiet times, the still times. But, Lord Chamberlain, why then the darkness, and the profusion of candles thereafter? We know the Emperor's Light and His Grace are with us."

Massyngberde opened his eyes and sighed gently, not in frustration but with paternal patience. "You are a rare creature, dear one. You have felt the touch of the Emperor directly, and so you have a personal connection to the Most High, which cannot be sullied by the ways of Men—unless you allow it, or allow yourself to become the very self-righteous thing you hate. This lesson I cannot force you to learn, so I shall give you only this instruction: Observe without judgment our celebration tonight. Open your eyes and your ears, but feel with your heart most of all, and know humility."

Evangeline touched her hand to her heart. "Aye."

Evangeline and Massyngberde proceeded in silence until they reached the Proprietary Chapel. Smaller than the Auditorium Chapel—which serviced the full complement of ship's crew—the Proprietary Chapel was reserved for McCann's closest household retainers; some fifty congregants could fill the two rows of pews, each pew holding five people and paired to either side of the short nave.

However, given the intimate and reflective nature of the evening, McCann had elected—as was his custom—to hold the private mass in the Side Chapel. Both the Auditorium and Proprietary chapels had smaller attached rooms, which were available for even smaller or quieter services; the latter held about twenty people.

Hoods drawn, faces covered and eyes averted in humility, Evangeline and Massyngberde slowly and reverently entered the Proprietary Chapel, whose automated door was framed by a mural depicting two twining columns, topped with a triumphal arch, the peak of which showed a lighthouse—a stylized Astronomicon—and a crown—signifying imperium.

Within, the two paused, allowing the door to close, their eyes to adjust, and their minds to focus on their devotion. As the chapel was relatively shallow, this doubled as a mental separation of "outside" and "inside" normally provided by a narthex.

When they had their bearing—aided by candles ranged beside the pews in wrought-iron holders at head height—they walked slowly up the nave; Evangeline genuflected, while Massyngberde lowered his head. On rising, they moved carefully to their left, around the perimeter of the chapel until they came to a small door, set in the side wall.

Evangeline rapped softly but firmly thrice. A spy-slot slid back, and a man's voice spoke: "In the name of our master, who desires entry?"

"Evangeline, humble servant of our master, and of the Master of Mankind," she replied.

"Enter." The slot closed, and the door opened.

Evangeline entered, nodding to Ansketil Jarman, a bonded merchant in McCann's service. She made way for Massyngberde behind her, and noted who else was present.

Seated at a long table in the middle of the room were Bruno Zeman, the sneak-thief, on the left side closest to the door; Doblain the duellist seated opposite him; three more hooded retainers Evangeline had not yet met, with an empty seat off to the right of the table; Clara Vikström, the Sister Dialogous, seated in the penultimate seat on the table's left; and across from Sister Clara, lit up to Evangeline's psychic senses, were Vinnija Pretkalniņa the Blind Seer, and McCann himself, seated next to the empty high seat and with an empty seat across from him.

Evangeline trailed Massyngberde, who took his place at the high seat, to the left of which was a lectern with a large tome atop it; Evangeline sat across from McCann. Jarman took his place as well.

"Master, are all your servants present to hear the words of the Master of Mankind, and to receive his grace?" Massyngberde asked.

"All those so called are present," McCann replied.

"With ready minds and humble hearts," the rest chorused.

Vinnija reached out a hand towards Evangeline. "It is pleasant to see you again, Interrogator. I have looked forward to this night with much anticipation."

Evangeline smiled. Though Vinnija had no mortal eyes, her soul-bond with the Emperor granted her clarity beyond the pale. "Well met, Seer."

"Though Fate's many paths have already been trod, we only can see the one path. I beg of you, Interrogator, please allow me to perform a sacred Reading."

Evangeline's head rose fractionally. "A Reading?"

Massyngberde sighed, this time in irritation. "Master, I shall live another hundred years before I understand why you permit this to continue. Year after year, you encourage Vinnija to read the Tarot—on Candlemass, of all times..."

"Vinnija's visions have never been in doubt, Emmanuel..."

"I have never doubted them, my lord! If I had the slightest compunction about any of the psyker's arts, I'm sure I would have been gratified to depart your service in penitence long ago. On the other hand, the... regularity with which Vinnija performs her readings on high holy days... It seems trite to me. And it is my solemn charge to see to the health of your household, body and mind, and further to the right growth of Lady Evangeline's understanding of the Imperial Creed."

"Emmanuel, Vinnija serves the Immortal Emperor with the same reverence and humility you or I or any other of us do. He speaks through her, having deemed her a worthy conduit for a fraction of His wisdom. If we are to serve with humility and have faith, we cannot dismiss anyone who serves, however differently."

Evangeline rose from her seat and moved to Massyngberde's side, embracing him. "Lord Chamberlain, you have done so much for me since I joined our Master's household. I know I have much still to learn of the Creed. Perhaps it is well that I receive a Reading now; after all, if my poor heathen mind cannot reconcile what I am told, I always have you to explain it to me."

"Cheeky," Doblain drawled.

Massyngberde "humphed." "Very well."

Evangeline regained her seat. "What must I do, Seer?"

Vinnija drew forth a packet from her robes, opening it with care and drawing out the cards. They were large enough to roughly cover a person's hand, crimson-backed, with a large central cream-coloured diamond and a repeating motif of thumbnail-sized diamonds, plus a fine silver border. To Evangeline's eyes, the cards shone with psychic potential.

"Ask a question, and the Emperor shall answer," Vinnija replied, holding the deck of cards in her hands.

Evangeline thought for a moment. "What is Service to the Emperor?"

"Ah, now that is a good question on which to reflect..." Massyngberde rose and lifted his right hand; all present bowed their heads. "I invoke the Grace of our Lord Emperor, that He may watch over us."

"The Emperor Protects," came the refrain.

Massyngberde moved to the lectern; Evangeline raised her head and eyes very slightly, and noticed for the first time an icon of the Emperor just behind Massyngberde and McCann. The image of the Master of Mankind was in shadow, but Evangeline sensed more than saw His presence. Very clever; He watches over us, and stands observing his two greatest servants here. Massyngberde is wisdom, McCann is authority. I wonder what part the Emperor is? Duty, perhaps.

Evangeline lowered her head again as Massyngberde began to read.

The epistle Massyngberde read was a warning against Pride: Only the Humble may serve the Emperor correctly, for only the Emperor knew all that would be. Thus, it warns, no one may gainsay Him, at the risk of their soul. He explained at the start—for the benefit of those with less formal indoctrination, like Evangeline, Doblain, and Bruno Zeman—that this instructive letter was one of the Sigilite Epistles: Attributed to the legendary Malcador, who was the Emperor's Regent ten thousand years ago, it specifies how to avoid falling into Heresy specifically by doing away with Pride, one of several injunctions.

"Having heard the Sigilite's wisdom, may we who are gathered here today carry this message in our hearts as we go forth to battle with the Great Enemy."

The assembly raised their heads. Evangeline began to clap softly, and was joined by the others after a few moments, though only McCann put something like feeling into it. "Forgive me if that was impolite," Evangeline said, "but I thought that was well-done."

"I suppose I cannot take offence at your goodwill, Interrogator," Massyngberde grunted as he sat, "certainly not if our noble Master sees fit to follow suit."

McCann grinned.

"I suppose we need not wallow in gravity," Sister Clara put in, her voice somewhat thin and querulous. "This is meant to be a celebration of Light, after all."

"Speaking of light," Massyngberde added, "Interrogator, would you do the honour of lighting the Master Candle? So that we may see the face of the Emperor."

Evangeline rose and moved next to the lectern, where was located a wrought-iron candleholder of the same make as those in the main chapel. She found a match, struck it, and lit the candle. Placing her hand over her heart, she bowed as the face of the Emperor caught the light, before returning to her seat.

While Evangeline had made her obeisance before the Emperor's icon, Vinnija had placed the Tarot deck on the table. Now, Vinnija addressed Evangeline directly: "Focus on the Tarot, on your question, and put your faith in the Master of Mankind. Address your question through the Tarot to Him-on-Earth."

Evangeline focused her will on the Tarot, conscious of those around her and of their watchful gazes. She relaxed, allowing the mantras of the Scholastica Psykana to work their way through her mind.

The card-back patterns of the Tarot began to shine faintly, as though catching the candlelight. "The Tarot hears you," Vinnija explained. "It has received your thoughts. Now, Lord our Emperor, hear our question: What is Service to You?"

Vinnija placed her hand delicately on the top of the deck, allowing her fingertips to slide gently down. Then, deftly, she cut the deck, taking the top cards—no more than a dozen—and putting them beside the parent deck. "I have Cut Out the extraneous influences, represented by these cards here. I have found this method provides clarity, limiting the possibilities without ignoring important factors.

"This is very important to understand: The temptation is immense, once the Reading is complete, to look at those cards and see what you might have 'missed.' This way madness lies, for then you admit you refuse to believe in the grace of the Emperor and your own strength.

"As this is your first reading, I shall use the Spread called Imperator. This will, I hope, provide a very simple Reading, showing cause and effect while still allowing room for interpretation.

"Understand, Interrogator, that the Tarot responds to ever-shifting possibilities, and that it will show truths without clarity to those lacking both the skill and the faith to understand and interpret those truths. So, let us see.

"The first card—that to my left—tells us about the past; how your situation came to be." Vinnija turns the top card; it lands right-side up. A red-robed human, with a cog symbol on its hood and a mechanical arm above its shoulder. "The Tech-Priest, number six of Adeptio; upright. Your service to the Emperor began as a way to atone for the sins of the past... a past that included some misuse of technology."

Evangeline shuddered violently. "This is true, then?" Vinnija asked, concerned.

"Very," Evangeline replied hoarsely.

Vinnija sat still for several moments. Once Evangeline was composed once again, Vinnija continued: "The second card—the middle—represent the present nature of your situation." She again turned a card, which landed right-side up. A robed human of noble bearing, with a curious third eye in the middle of his forehead. "The Navigator, number eight of Executeria; upright. The powerful psyker who can guide the Emperor's mighty ships by reference to the Ray of Hope. This represents leadership, authority, the power to make important decisions."

Evangeline smiled. "Perhaps I am assured to become an Inquisitor. After all, I have good teachers."

Vinnija permitted a brief smile, before focusing again on the Tarot. "The third and final card in this Reading—to the right—suggests a solution to a problem, or a possible outcome to the situation. Since this card 'rules' the future, and our fate is in the hands of the Emperor, this card is called the 'Imperator.' "

"The Commander."

"Precisely." Vinnija turns the card; it appears upside-down, such that Evangeline sees it clearly. She recoils in disgust, her gorge rising. It appears to be nothing so much as an agglomeration of void-faring ships smashed together with asteroids.

"The Space Hulk, Number Sixteen of the Major Arcanum..." Vinnija murmured. "Reversed. Goodness me, that's interesting." Vinnija looked askance at McCann, who nodded. "Space Hulks are ghost ships, mangled and fused by the fury of the Immaterium. They appear without warning, and bring calamity. Thus, this represents sudden or unexpected events.

"Interestingly, this shows the reverse, which can signify following the old ways—the status quo, the opposite of change—as well as learning by rote and following procedure."

"That seems applicable to me," Evangeline replied thoughtfully. "I have much to learn, much of which will simply require memorization, and much of which will govern my conduct as an agent of the Inquisition."

"However..." Vinnija looked up and stared directly at Evangeline. The seer's eyes burned so intensely with psychic power that they glowed as if with blue flame. "I think, more likely, that your service will end in bondage, for the Hulk represents imprisonment, or entrapment, as those who seek their fortune often find themselves lost forever."

The words reverberated in the small room, echoing in the minds of the listeners.

"...Still," Evangeline replied, gathering her wits, "I can imagine far worse fates. I serve the Emperor, and He is my shield."

"The Emperor Protects," Vinnija murmured, to be echoed by the others.

"Past sins... a leader, an authority... and a trap..." McCann muttered.

"But that is still not all." Vinnija held up the Tarot. "Interrogator Evangeline, with your patience I shall perform one last Reading—a Divination. Let this guide you on your path." She fanned the cards and held them out.

Evangeline closed her eyes; the cards glowed with psychic power, silver-blue. One shone brighter than the others; Evangeline reached forward, and gently choose that one. She opened her eyes and turned the card over, and saw, upright, a compass-star, the four large and four small points, topped by a double-headed Imperial Eagle, the chest of which bore a lidless eye.

"I... I see it clearly!" Vinnija gasped. "The Astronomican, Number Seventeen of the Major Arcanum, upright! The Ray of Hope!" Vinnija wept. "Such joy! Such hope for you, Interrogator! You shall always be guided!"

Evangeline held the card close. "What do you divine, Seer?"

"In Darkness, Follow the Light of Terra."

Chapter Six: End