Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain (16 page)

“It was my
privilege,” Drevarin replied.

Sherinias
smiled at Kayos. “Father!”

“Daughter, your
presence gladdens my heart.”

“Mine sings
with joy at your awakening, Father.”

“What has
happened while I slept?” Kayos asked. Drevarin told him, and at the
end of the account the Grey God nodded and said, “You did
well.”

“What happened
to Bane? Surely this was not Tolrar’s doing?”

“No indeed,
Tolrar was no match for him.” Kayos related his side of the story
while Drevarin and Sherinias listened raptly.

Drevarin said,
“That was the greatest heroism, to touch a beast god and bring him
here.”

“I had no
choice. He was going to kill my son.”

“A momentous
victory, My Lord.”

“It would have
been a horrendous disaster, if not for these ingenious people and
their machines.”

Bane groaned
and frowned.

“He wakes,”
Kayos said. “Tell everyone to move away from him, Drevarin. His
last memory is of a beast god’s jaws closing upon him.”

The Grey God
withdrew his light shield, allowing Sherinias and Drevarin to
become visible again, and Drevarin said, “Mirra, Sarrin, come
away.”

Mirra shot him
a confused look. “Why?”

“You will find
out soon enough.”

Mirra joined
the group in the corner, Sarrin and Ethra following. Bane’s eyelids
fluttered and his neck muscles tensed, turning his head from side
to side. He drew in a great gasp, then his eyes flicked open and
his head jerked up. A wall of force hurled Drevarin against the
wall, banging his head on it. Sherinias hit it beside him with a
yelp, and the people were thrust against the bulkhead with grunts
of surprise. Bane sat up and raised his hands, scanning the room.
The shredder room window misted as Kayos became visible. Mirra
inclined her head to him, and the rest of the group bowed.

Bane grimaced
and rubbed his face. “Sorry.”

Kayos smiled.
“I was expecting it.”

“How did I get
here?”

While Kayos
explained, Bane examined his torn, blood-soaked shirt, pulling it
open to reveal the faint new scars on his belly. Mirra sat beside
him and took his hand, and he clasped it, raising it to his lips
with a smile. He said to Drevarin, “You have my gratitude,
again.”

The young light
god waved it away, a trifle embarrassed.

Bane inclined
his head to Kayos. “And you, Father.” Bane plucked at his ruined
shirt. “I seem to be in need of a bath. Water will make a pleasant
change from blood.”

The Demon Lord
rose, swaying a little, and Kayos vanished again as Drevarin
stepped forward to offer his support. Bane grasped his shoulder,
leaning on him as he walked to the door, which opened to reveal
Sarjan talking to two contechs. He turned when they emerged, raking
Bane with a disbelieving and somewhat suspicious glance.

“The Demon Lord
requires a bath,” Drevarin announced.

Bane’s brows
rose. “Could you sound a little more pompous, Drevarin?”

“I could
try.”

“Do not.”

Sarjan glanced
from one to the other. “We... we don’t have baths; we have
auto-washers.”

“Then I need a
private room,” Bane said.

Sarjan nodded
and led them along two corridors and down a short flight of steps
to a door that opened when he touched the panel beside it. “This is
one of my crewmen’s quarters. He’s dead.”

Bane released
Drevarin and took Mirra’s hand. As the door closed behind them,
Sarjan turned to Drevarin and asked, “Is he all right?”

“He is weak, a
result of blood loss. Kayos and I could restore his strength, but,
since there is no longer any threat, he will probably prefer to
regain it by himself.” He cocked his head. “You are concerned about
his health?”

“Well... I’m
starting to think Nikira might be right.”

“Have you
considered Sherinias’ offer?”

Sarjan nodded.
“But if I do as she asks, I’ll be ridiculed, even ostracised.
They’ll call me a nut, and probably throw me in jail, or worse,
I’ll become a target for fanatics. I could be killed.”

“She would
protect you. As her emissary, you would be untouchable. You would
have power.”

“How?”

Drevarin
smiled. “She controls the Oracle, which controls the domain. If
someone tries to kill you, all you need do is pray to her and he
will be struck dead.”

“A man with a
light gun could pick me off without my ever knowing about it.”

“One command
from Sherinias to the Oracle, and you would have an air shield that
will stop projectiles and bend light. If you chose to be her
messenger, and sent her words to the people, you would gain much
status in her eyes. She needs someone to be her mouthpiece. She
will not be able to descend amongst her people for two hundred
years.”

“Why not?”
Sarjan asked.

“She is a
child. She does not have the power.”

“But she has
the power to protect me?”

“Yes.”

The commander
looked puzzled. “But she said -”

“She would
appear to the people, yes; with our help. But we will be leaving
soon, and then she will be alone, with you as her helper.”

“All of
you?”

“Yes. I must
return to my domain, although I shall visit. Kayos and Bane are on
a journey, which they must continue. So you see, you would be very
important to her, and her rewards would be great. She might even
grant you an extended lifespan.”

“What about
Nikira?” Sarjan asked. “She believes in all of you.”

“Nikira has
chosen to worship Bane.”

“I see.” He
hesitated. “It’s a tall order to expect people to believe that any
of you are gods.”

“Because we
look like you?”

“Yes. Creators
are made from light, not flesh and blood.”

Drevarin
nodded. “Actually, we are not made from it, but we do contain it.
All legends tend to exaggerate the most unusual aspects of their
subjects. We are not the same as you, but you were made in our
image, so you are similar. There are as many kinds of gods as there
are beings, some of whom spring from them, others who create
them.”

“So you’re
saying that gods are pretty much like us, but they have
powers?”

“No. You might
say that of Bane, but even he is vastly superior to you. Our flesh
is nothing like yours. We are not made from the same stuff, but we
possess a similar blueprint.”

“Would you…
allow us to examine you?”

Drevarin
laughed. “I think not.”

“It would go a
long way to convincing a lot of people of what you are.”

“You and your
examinations. You wish to study everything and demystify it, do you
not?”

“It’s how we’ve
come as far as we have,” Sarjan said.

“You are indeed
clever, and a credit to your creator. But my blood cannot exist
outside my body, and my flesh cannot be cut from me. Your machines
cannot see within me, and I cannot change that.”

“Could you...
tell us what you’re made from?”

“You would not
understand.” Drevarin set off along the corridor.

Sarjan fell
into step beside him. “Where’s the invisible man?”

“Around.”

“He’s like you,
too?”

“You could say
that.”

Sarjan pondered
for a moment. “You know, it’s going to be hard to convince people
that there are gods. Religion was outlawed centuries ago, because
it caused so much trouble. People chose to worship different gods,
and fought each other, trying to make their god supreme, I
guess.”

“And has your
world improved since then?”

The commander
pulled a face. “For a while it did, but then people started
fighting over other things, like land and resources.”

Drevarin
stopped. “You say you do not believe in gods, but you have legends
about creators. What do your legends say creators are?”

“Highly evolved
beings who created the world.”

“Ah.
Interesting.” Drevarin continued down the corridor. “I suppose it
does not matter what you call us, as long as you believe we are
real. Sherinias, of course, will expect you to have faith in her,
as is her right. You could look at it as showing respect to a
highly evolved being capable of creating a world.”

“Could
she?”

“Not as yet,
but when she is old enough she will have the power, yes.”

In the dead
crewman’s drab grey quarters, Bane turned to Mirra as the door shut
and drew her into his arms. She clung to him for several minutes,
then raised her head to smile up at him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you
more.” He led her over to the grey-striped brown sofa and sat on it
with a sigh, drawing her down beside him. A low table stood in
front of it and a bed occupied a corner at the back of the room,
beside a door that led into a tiny bathroom.

“How badly were
you hurt this time?” she asked.

“I am still
here.”

“How many more
times must you risk your life?”

He brushed a
lock of hair from her brow. “What would you have me do?”

“I long to go
home, with all my heart.”

“Then we will
go.”

“But
Ashynaria... You still have to save her.”

“I warned you
that this would be a dangerous venture,” he said, “and it has
proven worse than I feared. The ways of gods are brutal. I, too,
wish for nothing more than to return to our peaceful life.”

“Do you know
how long we have been travelling now?”

“I have lost
track of time.”

“As have I, but
it seems like an eternity.”

“Yes.” He
stroked her hair. “There have been too many side tracks, too many
goddesses to save and dark gods to vanquish. There seems no end to
it, and then there is still the return trip. When Kayos said it
would take a year, I do not think he realised that there would be
so many delays.”

“No. For him
there were none, because he could not save anyone, and had only to
keep himself safe. But for you, there will be many, it seems. At
least this battle is over.”

“I have only to
close the dark realm’s gate and create wards to seal Tolrar and his
cronies below, and we can leave.”

“First you must
rest.”

Bane nodded and
glanced down at his blood-stained shirt. “And bathe.” He hesitated.
“I must ask you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“We have many
dangers still to face, I am certain. Should there come a time when
your identity may place you in danger, do not reveal it. I will do
all the lying necessary, and Grem and Mithran will, too. I will
speak to them. Just keep silent, is all I ask. You know I will not
allow harm to come to you, but if I fall you will be alone until I
can return…”

She placed her
fingers on his lips. “Hush. I am not afraid to die. I will be
reborn. All you will have to do is wait.”

He took her
hand and kissed it. “You will not remember me. No, I will not allow
it.”

“You are far
more important than me. You will not be reborn, so you must not
die.”

“Then you must
do as I ask.”

“I will,” she
said. “But if you cannot save me without sacrificing yourself, do
not. I will return to you in a new incarnation and fall in love
with you again. Eighteen years, even twenty, is nothing to
you.”

“Untrue. The
two years I waited to wed you were an eternity.”

“Yet you made
me wait, and it was even more of an eternity for me.”

He smiled,
playing with a lock of her hair. “You were a child.”

“I was
seventeen!”

“A child.”

“We could have
spent those two years together, but instead, after only a few
months we are parted for much of the time, and even when we are
not, you have your power, and...”

“And?”

She shook her
head. “It does not matter.”

“Of course it
matters. Tell me.”

“We cannot be
together.”

“Ah. We will, I
promise,” he said. “I will save no more light gods except
Ashynaria. No more detours; no more delays. We will be home within
a year.”

“No. You cannot
allow light gods to suffer and die, and all their people, if you
can save them.”

“Light gods
will always suffer and die. They do so right now, all over the
accursed God Realm. In many domains, they are enslaved and
slaughtered. I cannot save them all.”

“But you must
save those you can,” she said.

“You cannot
have it both ways. Either you want us to return home, or you want
me to save light gods. Which is it?”

“I want you to
save those we encounter on our way to Ashynaria, and return home as
quickly as we can.”

“Very
well.”

She looked up
at him. “And I still want your promise.”

“You want me to
let you die.”

“If you must,
in order to live, yes. Promise me.”

“You do not
know what you ask of me,” he said.

“It is the only
way we can one day be together and have a family. Once you are no
longer mortal, that will be lost.”

“I would go mad
with grief.”

“I will return
to you in a new life.”

He kissed the
top of her head. “I will consider it. Now I must bathe and
sleep.”

Bane rose and
went into the washroom. A flare of blue light came from it as he
created a tub of hot water, and she joined him as he stripped off
and stepped into it.

A persistent
buzzing woke Bane, and he sat up and rubbed his face. After his
bath, Mirra had left to find something to eat, and he had lain down
on the bed. His hair was still damp, so he had not slept for long.
The rest had revived him a little, but he remained weak and a bit
shaky. His torn, bloody clothes were on the chair beside the bed,
and he could not create new apparel without power.

The buzzing
came from the cabin door, and he rose and donned his trousers,
which were only a little blood-stained, before waving a hand at the
door. It opened to reveal Nikira, twisting a lock of hair. She
lowered her hand and composed her apprehensive expression, raising
her chin. Her eyes roamed over him, lingering on the rune scars for
a moment before she averted them. Her uniform looked freshly
laundered, and the rent in the midriff from her close encounter
with the executioner’s blade was repaired with what appeared to be
a strip of adhesive tape. Her hair was brushed in a becoming style,
and a faint scent of soap told him that she had bathed, too.