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Yrliet had suggested, in her cryptic way, that the flora and fauna of Janus changed as a defense against corruption. Now Evanelia wondered if the Lilaethan — whatever it was — could influence non-living aspects of the planet to respond in similar ways.
From the moment she arrived, a stifling, stagnant blanket of humidity had enveloped the planet. During her brief visit to Dargonus, she’d sent for tailors and had them prepare clothing befitting both a Rogue Trader’s status and the various environments she might encounter throughout the protectorate. Even wearing the lightest, flimsiest silks of the bunch, with the most lightweight armored jacket she could sensibly wear into combat, she was miserably hot and sweaty.
To make matters worse, the weather was accompanied by a jittery, restless feeling she couldn’t identify that buzzed beneath her skin. Not quite an itch, but just as unpleasant: a gnawing need for… She wasn’t sure what. Everything, but not anything. An unrelenting need to fulfill a million wants so specific she didn’t even recognize them. It flitted somewhere between thirst, hunger, boredom, raw libido, addiction, rage, destructive impulse… Though she could never name exactly what it was she craved, she wanted it like a dying man in a desert needed water. And when she couldn’t (or wouldn’t) fulfill it, it grated at her mind and made her testy. It was like the irritability of a missed meal amplified a thousandfold.
By the end of the day, all she wanted to do was peel everything off and lie in a bath.
She made a note to herself to ask Yrliet about the Lilaethan and its capabilities once she had settled in on the ship. For now, though, she didn’t need answers about how or why things were happening. She was simply relieved that after nearly two weeks of heat and the awful feeling of Slaanesh’s influence, it had finally lifted. It was finally beginning to rain.
As they left the palace, she paused in her tracks and tipped her head to the sky, closing her eyes with a pleased sigh as a few stray droplets kissed her face. She could feel the air cooling already.
“Lord Captain?”
She opened her eyes and met Abelard’s questioning look.
“Is everything alright?”
“Perfectly fine.” Better than fine. Deciding that she wasn’t ready to go back to the shuttle yet, she shirked off her protective-weave coat and handed it to him along with her rifle. “I need a few moments before I return to the shuttle. Wait for me there. I’ll be there shortly, I’m not going far.”
She half-expected the seneschal to protest or take issue with her decision to eschew armor. But apparently a stroll in the rain on the palace grounds fell within the accepted range of Rogue Trader whims: he accepted her coat with a nod, and barely a hint of judgment. “I will ready the shuttle for departure and hold until you arrive.”
“Thank you, Abelard.”
She set off for the gardens where she’d first spoken to Yrliet, as the rain began to fall in earnest. She heard a roll of thunder somewhere in the distance, and she couldn’t help a giddy grin in response. Eugenia-6 never had many thunderstorms.
The rain intensified quickly from a pleasant sprinkle to a deluge of enormous, fat water droplets. Evanelia picked up her pace to an almost-jog and decided to duck beneath a gazebo before she got completely drenched. She would return to the shuttle when the rain lessened. For now, she stood at the edge of the gazebo and let her mind wander, savoring the cooling breeze against her wet skin, the sounds of the rain now coming down in sheets, the lovely gardens… It really was a beautiful planet when she could think clearly and it wasn’t trying to kill her.
She did not hear anyone approach, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Heinrix’s voice, sharp with accusation. “Lord Captain.”
She spun around, heart pounding. Sure enough, there he stood: his cape dripping water onto the tiled floor, his hair wet and sticking to his forehead in a faintly ridiculous way, his scowl almost as thunderous as the sky.
He didn’t wait for her to respond. “I need an explanation. What are you doing?” A muscle in his temple twitched with indignation. “No, that’s not even the right question — do you realize what you are doing?”
“I have been hot and sticky and miserable every day for almost a fortnight, van Calox, and now I am enjoying a well-earned reprieve from the damned heat. Don’t tell me a biomancer such as yourself believes in folk wisdom about ‘catching cold’ in the rain.”
“That is not what I am asking about and you are perfectly aware of that.”
“Am I?”
He drew closer, his scowl deepening. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Lord Captain, or suggest that I might be naive enough to overlook yours,” he snapped. “Do you realize that leaving an Imperial world in the hands of xenos is a violation of every principle and law of the Imperium? You are helping to create a hotbed of heresy on your own planet!”
The feeling that had lessened when they broke Slaanesh’s grip on the palace was returning ever so slightly. Her heartbeat, which had just begun to settle, started rising. She drew herself to her full height — though with Heinrix’s promixity, she was keenly aware that he still dwarfed her. “My planet was nearly overtaken by the Ruinous Powers, under the watchful eye of a human governor,” she said pointedly. “As little regard as you have for the Aeldari, you must admit that they loathe Chaos almost as much as you do. If that loathing and some diplomacy is sufficient to broker a truce, to direct their resources and energy at our common enemy instead of at my planet, I am more than satisfied to take advantage of that. Would you have me choose a war on two fronts?”
“I’d have you see the danger of turning your back on xenos for even a second.” His steely composure slipped, outright exasperation breaking through. “No, not just turning your back — inviting them into your retinue. Your inner circle.”
Ah, yes. There’s that Ordo Xenos open-mindedness. “Yrliet is interesting,” she said, as evenly as she could manage, “and thus far peaceful towards us. I wish to better understand her way of thinking, her people’s philosophy of temperance.”
“Your new companion is a member of a dangerous breed of xenos notorious for their duplicity and cunning. It would be a mistake to place any trust in her facade of compliance and amenability.”
His words provoked a sudden ache in her chest, like he’d pushed down on a bruise she’d managed to ignore. Her eyes narrowed as she rounded on him. They were now almost close enough to violate the rules of propriety. “You asked me not to insult your intelligence,” she spat. “I might ask the same of you. Do you think I delude myself that I have the undying loyalty and devotion of every person in my retinue?” She felt her lips curl into a sneer, her voice rising. “An unsanctioned psyker whose grief over my predecessor is threatening to tear her apart, a fabulist pirate queen, and an Inquisition spy?”
Heinrix recoiled as though she had slapped him. His defenses faltered, and for an instant — though perhaps it was just a flash of lightning making her see things — she thought she saw unguarded hurt on his face.
She averted her gaze with a pang of regret and turned away from him, coming to lean against the railing of the gazebo again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I am well aware that some of my companions have secrets and agendas at odds with my own,” she said, in a more restrained voice. “No matter…” No matter how much affection I may have for them. Her resolve wavered, and she found she couldn’t finish the thought aloud. Instead, she carried on. “I invite people to my retinue because I believe they have something to contribute, not because I have deluded myself into thinking they can be wholly trusted.”
For a long moment, she heard nothing but the rain and a distant roll of thunder. Then, moving so quietly she barely noticed it, she felt him come to stand beside her. She stared down at her hands as his settled on the railing in her peripheral vision.
“My presence in your retinue is not only for the purposes of surveillance. I genuinely do not wish to see you come to any harm.” As if it had a mind of its own, his hand inched closer to hers. “And I will do everything to…”
His pinky had scarcely brushed hers when he retracted his hand suddenly. For a moment, his hand hesitated awkwardly in the space between them — then his fingers flexed and curled into a fist, and he withdrew his hand to rest on the pommel of his sword.
Evanelia raised her eyes to look at him curiously as he cleared his throat and took a step back, but his eyes remained stubbornly averted.
“Thank you, Rogue Trader. I see no reason to detain you any longer.” He bowed stiffly and, after a flicker of hesitation, turned to leave.
She swallowed. When did that lump form in my throat?
She heard the distinctive splash of his boots crossing the threshold from covered gazebo into the rain, and made a split-second decision to call after him. “Why must your concern for me be wrapped in layers of rebukes and recriminations?”
He stopped and moved back slightly under the awning. He met her gaze briefly before he averted his eyes again. She saw in his face the look of a man trapped, knowing that no matter what he chose it would lead to pain.
“How else can I get through to you and make you listen without resorting to even harsher measures?”
Her clever tongue failed her, as it always seemed to do around Heinrix. She opened her mouth to retort, then closed it, and remained silent. He waited a moment to see if she would say anything. She thought he looked disappointed when she didn’t. Then he bowed again and left.