Klueger made his way through Mhurghast’s dungeon. Every room he entered, he did so with a feeling of dread. Would this be the place where he would find Magda, killed by some murderous device? How far had Bernger managed to lead her? How great was the extent of these deathly halls?
There could be no other escape now. Klueger had realised that the moment the daemon abandoned Thilo’s body. He had no proof of the Mardagg’s destruction that he could offer that would satisfy Grand Lector Sieghard. The castle would burn, along with all inside it. The only chance for life was the escape route guarded by the count’s traps.
When he saw that the body of Baron von Woernhoer and the decayed husk of his killer had been moved, Klueger’s anxiety swelled. Bernger and Magda had got this far. That was to be expected, since they knew the secret of the other rooms. What lay ahead of them would be the unknown. A deadly unknown.
Klueger slowly rounded the corner to the other part of the landing. He found the note left by Bernger. His eyes roved across the pencilled words and their final warning. He looked across the fifth chamber, but to his relief there wasn’t any trace of pulped bodies, only the splinters from the pole. Bernger had been right, then. He and Magda had won clear of this trap at least.
The witch hunter sprinted across the trapped corridor, calling out numbers as he ran. He reached the other side only a few seconds before the walls crashed together behind him. Their dolorous reverberation pounded through his ears. It was why he didn’t hear the footsteps that approached him from around the corner that led to the next room.
‘I knew I would find you,’ Magda called. He looked up to see her walking towards him. The expression on her face was cold, vacant. Only the eyes were vibrant. Klueger could see the rage smouldering in them.
‘Praise Sigmar you’re safe!’ he cried out, relief flooding through him. But even as he said the words, he knew something was wrong. There was a smell. A charnel reek that grew in intensity.
‘No one is safe,’ Magda said. As she spoke, her voice began to collapse inwards, deepening into a bestial snarl that reverberated not in Klueger’s ears but in the depths of his soul.
‘She gave herself to me, that I might thank you on behalf of her mother,’ rasped the Mardagg’s voice inside Klueger’s spirit.
The enraged eyes turned bright crimson as tears of blood spilled down Magda’s cheeks. The Mardagg raised one of her hands and reached out for Klueger. The pale skin cracked, blood spurting from torn veins as the fingers lengthened into bony claws.
‘Revenge.’ The word echoed through the dungeons of Mhurghast long after the witch hunter’s screams fell into silence.