Free Deathwing by William King, David Pringle, Neil Jones

establish
     themselves
     in a hostile
     world.
    He was gratified as
     the
     web of psychic contact
     expanded
     with each
     new brood
     member.
     He
     felt
     cold
     satisfaction
     at
     the destruction
     of
     the
     tribes
     and
     the
     knowledge
     that
     soon
     a
     new
     industrial
     base
     would
     be
     built.
     The
     ship
     would
     be repaired. New worlds to conquer
     would be within reach.
    For a bleak moment, despair
     filled Two Heads
     Talking. He saw the
     Stealer planning
     to spread
     to and
     infect
     new
     worlds. And
     he could
     do nothing
     to stop
     this
     old, invincible entity.
     He almost gave
     in.
    He could
     see
     no way out.
     Death loomed, and
     that
     thought
     gave
     him pause.
     He knew what he must do. Part of
     him
     gave way before the
     Patriarch's assault;
     another
     part willed his spirit towards
     oblivion.
    He
     stood
     once
     more
     in
     the
     cold
     place,
     sensed
     far-off
     the
     spirit
     of
     the
     Emperor,
     bright
     and
     shining
     as
     a
     star.
     Near
     at hand
     were the
     angry
     ghosts.
     The Patriarch was a hungry,
     ominous
     presence,
     determined to enslave
     him.
     Somewhere
     in the
     distance,
     he could
     hear the
     thunderous
     pinions
     of Deathwing coming to claim him.
    Too
     late,
     the
     Patriarch
     realised
     what
     he
     was
     doing
     and
     tried
     to
     break
     the
     link.
     Two
     Heads
     Talking focused
     all
     his hatred,
     anger
     and
     fear
     and
     held
     the
     link
     open,
     a task
     made
     easier
     by
     their
     earlier
     intimate
     contact.
     The
     Patriarch struggled
     frantically, but
     could
     not
     free himself.
    The wingbeats
     came closer, drowning
     the
     Librarian
     in
     a
     roar
     that
     might
     have
     been
     a
     hurricane
     or
     his
     own
     last
     breath.
    From the
     middle of a vortex
     of
     agony,
     he
     was
     borne
     up
     into
     darkness.
     The
     maelstrom
     sucked
     in
     the
     Patriarch.
     It
     died, slain by the
     Librarian's death
     agony.
    Briefly
    ,
     Two
     Heads
     Talking
     felt
     his
     foe
     vanish,
     felt
     the
     sense
     of
     loss
     from
     its
     brood.
     As
     the
     Librarian's
     spirit
     rose higher, he reached
     out
     and touched
     the
     minds of his comrades,
     bidding
     than
     farewell,
     telling
     them
     what
     they
     must
     do. Then
     Two Heads
     Talking knew no more.
     
* * *
     
    Cloud Runner felt the presence
     as
     he
     stared
     into
     the
     fire.
     He
     looked
     up
     and
     saw
     Two
     Heads
     Talking standing
     before him. The Librarian looked pale. His face was
     distorted
     by
     agony,
     his
     body
     gashed
     by
     dreadful
     wounds.
     He
     knew
     that this
     was a spirit vision,
     that
     the
     old Shaman was dead.
    For
     a
     moment,
     he
     thought
     he
     heard
     the
     sound
     of
     titanic
     wingbeats
     and
     saw
     the
     mightiest of thunderbirds
     soaring toward
     the
     moon.
     The presence
     vanished,
     leaving
     Cloud
     Runner
     feeling
     cold
     and
     alone.
     He
     shivered
     in
     the
     sudden chill. He knew he had
     been touched
     by Deathwing's passing.
    He looked toward the others
     and
     knew that
     they
     had
     seen
     the
     same thing.
     He raised a hand
     in a gesture
     of
     farewell
     and then
     swept
     it down as
     a signal for the
     Marines
     to advance.
    Filled with determination, the
     white-armoured Terminators marched toward the distant
     city.
     
     
* * *

Chapter V
     
     
    Cloud
     Runner
     sat enthroned
     and
     looked
     down
     upon
     his
     visitors.
     His
     people
     were
     drawn
     up
     in
     long
     ranks,
     forming
     a corridor along
     which the
     Marines advanced
     warily. They
     were led by a Captain and
     a
     Librarian.
     From
     the
     doorway,
     the huge
     armoured
     form
     of
     a