Demon Lord VI - Son of Chaos (33 page)

Bane appeared before her, his brow furrowed in a deep frown.
She sobbed with relief as the shackles on her wrists and ankles
parted, fell into his arms and clung to his neck. He swept her up,
and her stomach heaved as he headed for the wall, muttering,
“
Tojackar
.”

Once again she
experienced the sickening sensation of passing through solid
matter, much like walking through water, only worse.

Nikira buried
her face in his hair and inhaled his strange, warm odour, which
bore no resemblance to normal body odour but was more like the
scent of sun-heated stone. He carried her through three more walls
while she gritted her teeth and swallowed hard. Cool wind brushed
her skin, and she glanced down at the city that passed below. They
flew away from the Great Gate, which stood open, and headed towards
the place where they had left the refugees.

Bane landed
with a slight jolt and put her down, supporting her as she reeled,
then she bent and retched. The refugees sat in disconsolate groups,
talked and played games in the dust. Some rested or slept, others
munched the dry rations that had been left for them. Several looked
up with glad cries, from which she deduced that they were no longer
invisible.

Bane headed
towards them, leaving her to follow, and Mirra ran to embrace him.
Mithran and Grem greeted him with smiles and firm shoulder clasps,
Sarrin and the others bowed their heads to him. Mirra took his
hand, and he smiled at her, then at the rest of the group.

“
How do you fare?”

Sarrin nodded.
“Well enough, Lord.”

“
Good. If you have need of anything, you have only to
pray.”

“
Thank you, Lord.”

“
Commander Nikira will be joining you. Her people were going to
execute her.”

Sarrin looked
at Nikira. “You are welcome, Commander.”

“
Thank you,” Nikira mumbled, dismayed by Bane’s decision, but
not daring to object.

Mirra smiled
up at him. “Will you stay for a little while?”

“
We have tea,” Sarrin said.

“
A short time only; I have much to do.”

Mirra led him
to a tent with a silver groundsheet spread before it, and the group
settled upon it while the rest of the refugees looked on. Nikira
wondered if it bothered him to be the object of so many intent
eyes. Ethra demanded to know what had happened in the domain, which
they could not see from the camp, and Bane related the tale in his
usual curt manner. Sarrin brewed tea and handed him a cup. He
barely glanced at Nikira, and she sensed that he was angry with
her, probably because of her attempted seduction. Bane omitted to
mention the destruction of the Dorilan Dome in his tale, and when
he had finished his narrative, Ethra stared at him in dismay.

“
You can’t fight three dark gods!”

“
I can, one at a time.”

“
You’ll be hurt!”

He inclined
his head. “Probably, but it must be done.”

“
You’re doing this to save our goddess?” Nikira
asked.

“
Yes.”

“
Thank you, Lord.”

Ethra glared
at her. “If he’s hurt, it’s all your fault!”

Nikira nodded.
“I know.”

“
I am doing it for Sherinias, Ethra,” Bane said.

“
But if it wasn’t for her -”

“
Enough.”

In the short
silence that followed, Nikira plucked up her courage. “Why did you
destroy the dome outside the Gate, Lord?”

He glanced at
her, raising his brows. “I did not. When a realm gate closes the
wards are activated. The death of those within it is
regrettable.”

“
But you could have warned them, told them to flee.”

“
I did, through you. They ignored the warning.”

“
If you had gone to them yourself...”

“
They would not have believed me.”

Ethra said,
“You shouldn’t question Bane, Nikira, and it was your goddess who
closed the Gate.”

Nikira nodded,
lowering her eyes, and Sarrin pressed a cup of hot tea into her
hand. “Here, dear, drink this. You have been through a terrible
ordeal.”

“
Thank you.” She sipped it. “It’s just that now the people
think you’re all dra’voren, Lord.”

Bane shrugged.
“They are fools. They must go into the domain now.”

“
They will not. In fact, more may flee. They think you’re going
to destroy our world.”

“
There is nothing I can do about that. They will survive
outside.”

Nikira
shivered and wrapped her hands around the hot cup. “What’s going to
happen to me now?”

“
You will go to Drevarin’s domain.”

She cast Bane
a shy glance. “Thank you for rescuing me, Lord.”

“
After what you did, you didn’t deserve to be saved by him,”
Ethra averred, her dark eyes glittering.

“
I know. What do they think happened to me?”

Bane sipped
his tea. “You vanished.”

“
Perhaps I could stay in Bayona. If they don’t know what
happened to me, they might not look for me.”

“
If they find you, they will kill you.”

“
How will I manage in a strange domain? I can’t speak their
language.”

“
Drevarin will gift all of you with his people’s language when
you enter his domain.”

Nikira’s heart
sank as Bane handed his cup to Sarrin and rose.

“
I must go.”

Ethra jumped
up, her expression forlorn, but he ignored her plaintive look.
Mirra stood to embrace him, and he bent to kiss her, stroking her
hair. Taking her hand, he pressed it to his cheek and closed his
eyes, and she bit her lip. Then he turned and marched off,
vanishing after a few paces. Nikira gazed after him, wishing he
would stay, or take her with him, anything but leave her with these
people with whom she could not communicate when he was absent.

Nikira sensed
that sweeping changes were in store for her domain, and the thought
of Bane fighting three dark gods, even one at a time, horrified
her. The possible consequences if he lost made her shudder, and did
not bear thinking about. Her only comfort was her faith in him, and
she clung to it and the belief that he would prevail. He had to, or
her domain, her people and everyone with him, save the light gods,
would perish.

The tale continues in book VII,
When
Angels Fall
.

****

About the
author

T. C.
Southwell was born in Sri Lanka and her family moved to the
Seychelles when she was a baby. She spent her formative years
exploring the islands – mostly alone. Naturally, her imagination
flourished and she developed a keen love of other worlds. The
family travelled through Europe and Africa and, after the death of
her father, settled in South Africa. T. C. Southwell has written
over forty novels and five screenplays. Her hobbies include
motorcycling, horse riding and art, and she earns a living in the
IT industry.

All
illustrations and cover designs by the author.

Visit the
Demon Lord blog: http://www.demon-lord-book.blogspot.com

Acknowledgements

Mike Baum and
Janet Longman, former employers, for their support, encouragement,
and help. My mother, without whose financial support I could not
have dedicated myself to writing for ten years. Isabel Cooke,
former agent, whose encouragement and enthusiasm led to many more
books being written, including this one. Suzanne Stephan, former
agent, who has helped me so much over the past six years, and
Vanessa Finaughty, good friend and business partner, for her
support, encouragement and editing skills.