Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain (27 page)

He grinned.
“Now there is a thought.”

She smacked
him, and he stepped back, chuckling.

Bane spread his
hands towards her and gestured, murmuring a command to the shadows
that trickled from his fingertips. Mirra shivered and gulped as a
gleaming black gown with a sequined halter top clothed her. Her
hair reformed into an up-swept style with curly bangs framing her
face, and a diamond-studded choker replaced her healer’s necklet
and the golden rune pendant.

He smiled, his
eyes roaming over her. “Beautiful. I should do this more
often.”

She glanced
down at herself. “Oh, am I plain otherwise?”

“No.”

“But you like
me better like this?”

“Who would
not?”

She tilted her
head. “Healers consider it imprudent to attract the unwelcome
attention of strange men, especially one who is married.”

“When we are
alone, then.”

“I would prefer
that you like me the way I am, not dressed up in fancy
clothes.”

Bane nodded. “I
do, of course.”

“That is not
what you just said.”

“What is the
harm in thinking you are beautiful when you wear a lovely
dress?”

“Because it
implies that I am not when I do not,” she said.

“That is not
what I meant.”

“Then what did
you mean?”

Mithran came to
Bane’s side and clasped his shoulder. “Son, quit while you’re
ahead, you’re not going to win this argument.”

Mirra turned to
him. “So you agree with him?”

“May I not
compliment my wife?” Bane asked.

She faced him
again. “Certainly, when I am myself.”

“You are still
yourself.”

“Bane…” Mithran
shook his head. “You’re digging a deeper hole, lad.”

“I did not
think healers were concerned with what they look like,” Bane
said.

“We are not,”
she replied.

“Then why does
what I think trouble you?”

“You are my
husband.”

“You wore a
pretty dress on our wedding day.”

“That was a
wedding gown.”

“But its
purpose was to make you more beautiful, not so?”

She huffed. “It
was a special occasion.”

“So is
this.”

“We are just
going to an alehouse. I hardly think it qualifies.”

“All the other
women will be wearing pretty clothes. Do you want to be the only
one in a plain white dress?”

“No. That is
not the point.”

Bane threw up
his hands. “Fine, I should not have said you were beautiful wearing
it. You are always beautiful.”

“But more so in
a gown like this?”

Mithran said,
“Let’s call it a draw, shall we?”

“It is not a
competition,” she stated.

Bane stepped
closer to his petite wife. “When we get back, a spanking will be in
order, I think, for arguing with your husband.”

She raised her
chin. “You and what army?”

“Perhaps I
shall employ the services of Nomard and Dramon.”

She giggled,
casting a bright-eyed glance at Mithran, who eyed her, then Bane,
and asked, “You two aren’t serious, are you?”

Bane clapped
his father on the shoulder with a white-toothed grin. “Had you
going there, did we?”

Mithran sighed
and shook his head. “I should have known.”

“Yes, you
should. When have you ever known Mirra and me to argue?”

“There’s a
first time for everything.”

“Over a
dress?”

Mirra feigned a
pout. “You think me so petty, Mithran?”

“It sounded
serious.”

“It would not
have worked if we had been laughing.”

Mithran smiled.
“I guess so.”

Bane turned to
Mirra and scooped her up, making her squeak in surprise. “When we
get back, I still think a spanking is in order.”

“I shall see to
it that you get one, then,” she retorted.

Bane laughed
and Moved to a busy street outside an establishment with a bright,
blinking sign above its door. Flying vehicles hummed overhead and
strangely-dressed people hurried past in the illumination of
numerous street lamps and the sparkling façades of light-covered
buildings. Mirra clutched her stomach when he placed her on her
feet, gulping, and he supported her with a hand on her elbow,
leaning close to murmur, “Sorry.”

Mirra shook her
head and straightened, gazing around in fascination. Bane clothed
himself in an illusion of a smart black suit over a white silk
shirt and a sleek grey cravat with a diamond pin. He made his hair
short and his brows level, and gave himself a healthy tan.

She glanced up
at him with a smile. “I prefer the real you.”

“I still prefer
you in a pretty dress.”

“You should
have wed a princess then.”

He snorted and
rolled his eyes. “Let us go and meet these jokers before I spank
you right here.”

“That might
cause a stir.”

“Probably not
as much as you might think.”

Bane led her
through a silver-studded black door into the dim interior with
flashing lights he had viewed in the Eye. Patrons packed it, but
stepped aside at his approach, sensing his power. As he had
suspected, many were droges, with a smattering of demons, and the
humans had souls as corrupt at their dead fellows. The demons eyed
him warily and retreated, but the droges seemed unafraid. Clearly
they were used to the company of dark gods, so Tolrar, Scryon and
Jerriss had spent a lot of time socialising. The number of droges
indicated that the three former rulers had been generous in their
rewards, most likely so the damned could provide them with the type
of vile entertainment they enjoyed and corrupt more humans. The
droges had to be souls that had been condemned before Pretarin had
fallen, since tainted and even corrupt spirits were now able to fly
to the White City.

Throbbing music
blared at a deafening volume, making Mirra wince and plug her ears.
Pungent smoke mingled with the stench of musky perfume and old
sweat. Bane took her hand and made his way to the table where
Nomard and Dramon sat in an area surrounded by staggered sound
barriers, reducing the music’s volume. The demon gods looked up at
his approach and grinned, leant back in their chairs and swapped a
glance. Bane settled in the soft black velvet-covered chair
opposite, and Mirra took the seat beside him.

“So,” the man
Bane assumed was Nomard said, “to what do we owe the honour of a
visit from the local dark god, ruler of this domain?”

“I have a
proposition for you two.” Bane stopped a passing waiter and ordered
ale for himself and a fruit drink for Mirra.

As the waiter
left, Nomard leant forward. “We’re listening.”

“Sport. Lots of
it, in return for your oath of fealty to me.”

“Fealty, huh?”
Nomard sniggered. “What makes you think you can trust us?”

“I do not. But
if you break it, you will forego a lot of fun.”

Dramon said,
“Tell us about the fun.”

“I go to rescue
a light goddess from a powerful dark god. You could play a part in
it. You would have a purpose, and probably get to destroy a lot of
demons and black mages.”

“We could do
that here,” Nomard pointed out.

“To say nothing
of getting our heads kicked in by a dark god,” Dramon remarked.

“I have no
intention of confronting him,” Bane said. “It would be a smash and
grab mission. Besides, you two are all but indestructible, are you
not?”

“It still
hurts,” Nomard grumbled.

“I am not
asking you to fight a dark god.” Bane sat back as the drinks
arrived, and picked up his tankard. “Right now, you two are just
about as bored as you can get, not so?”

The demon gods
swapped another glance. “There’s not much that interests us,”
Dramon said.

“Because you
have seen and done it all, right? But have you ever been on a
quest, with a purpose?”

“Why would we
wish to save a light goddess?”

“You do not
have to. That is my quest. Your purpose will be to help me
succeed.”

Dramon grunted.
“We’re not fond of your kind. But you’re no ordinary dark god, are
you?”

“No. I am
tar’merin.”

“Ah.” Nomard
nodded. “That explains a lot.”

“So, what do
you say?”

“We’ll have to
think about it.”

Dramon quaffed
his ale. “I think you’re just trying to stop us inciting the demons
against the people in this world.”

“That is part
of the reason,” Bane admitted, “but I would welcome your aid on
this quest.”

“Had your butt
kicked by a few dark gods, have you?”

“I defeated
them all.”

“Truly?”
Dramon’s truculent visage furrowed with puzzlement. “But you’re
just a mortal god.”

Bane shrugged
and sipped his ale. “A powerful one.”

“Hmmm.”

Nomard leered
at Mirra. “Who’s the pretty lady?”

“My wife.”

Nomard rose to
his feet with a screech of chair legs on smooth floor and held out
his hand. Mirra hesitated, glancing at Bane, who nodded. She placed
her hand in Nomard’s, and he bowed over it with a mocking grin. “An
honour, brave lady.”

Mirra forced a
somewhat brittle smile and retrieved her hand as soon as he
released it.

He flopped back
onto his chair, making it creak, and turned to his brother. “I
don’t know about you, old bean, but a quest sounds like just the
ticket.”

“It sounds like
a good way to get us out of the realm gate to me,” Dramon
replied.

“I understand
your suspicion,” Bane said, “but you will accompany us aboard a
ship, so we cannot abandon you in the God Realm.”

“What do your
light god friends have to say about this little arrangement you
want to make with us?” Nomard enquired.

“They do not
know about it yet.”

“Ha! They’ll
never agree.”

“They will. You
two are no threat to them.”

“We do things
they don’t like, though,” Dramon said. “They definitely don’t
approve of us. Although being in your company must have inured them
to some horrors, I imagine.”

“Only Kayos
will accompany us on the quest.”

“You do realise
that thwarting your little quest will be just as much fun for us as
helping you, don’t you?” Nomard asked.

Bane nodded. “I
do, but let us be clear. Make one move against me or any of my
companions, and I will destroy your demon hounds.”

“Nasty,” Dramon
commented.

“I know they
are the only things you value, and I must be certain you will not
harm any of my companions.”

“Or you,”
Nomard said.

“You would
regret attacking me.”

“But you have a
pretty wife, just as mortal as you.”

“You see,” Bane
remarked, “this is where negotiations are going to break down.”

“You started
with the threats.”

“You two are
less trustworthy than a fegid dragon.”

Nomard inclined
his head. “So are you.”

“This is why
minions of the darkness never band together.”

Dramon raised
his brows. “You’ve only just figured that out? How young are
you?”

“I knew it
before.”

A young man in
a sparkling silver jacket and skin-tight black leather trousers
lurched up to their table and grinned at Mirra, raking her with
avaricious eyes. “Hey, gorgeous, wanna dance?”

She shook her
head. “No, thank you.”

“Aw, c’mon,
just one, I….”

Bane glanced at
the youth, whose face went blank. He wandered away, looking a
little dazed.

Nomard watched
him with a smile. “Neat trick. Wish we could do that.”

“I can show you
more neat tricks if you come on this quest,” Bane said.

Dramon leant on
the table and banged his tankard down. “How about we cut out the
threats, then?”

“All right. All
threats are off the table.”

The demon gods
swapped another glance, and Nomard nodded. “We’ll consider it.”

“I still think
you just don’t want us to start a demon war,” Dramon remarked.

“I do not care
if you do,” Bane said. “I am leaving this domain soon, and you two
are no danger to the light goddess. Doubtless she will be grieved
to see her people slaughtered, but they have machines that can
defeat demons. In time, they may even learn to destroy them.
Perhaps I will teach them how before I leave. The war you want to
start will be long and devastating, and you might lose. Once I have
created the wards that will seal off the Underworld, no more demons
will be able to rise.”

Nomard grunted.
“You’re going to ward the domain?”

“Yes. I have
cast four dark gods into the Land of the Dead, and intend to keep
them below.”

“We could have
a lot of fun stopping you.”

“You will fail,
and you will have more fun on the quest.”

“What makes you
so confident?” Dramon demanded. “You’re just a mortal god. I could
crush you with one blow.”

“And I will
wager I could destroy you if I wished, and I can definitely destroy
your hounds. Also, I have three light gods on my side.”

Nomard growled,
“Here we go with the threats again.”

“You started it
this time.”

“True.” Nomard
chuckled. “We minions of the darkness tend to be evil.”

Bane leant
forward. “How many dark gods would offer a pair of jokers like you
employment?”

“Most don’t
need our help.”

“I do not need
it. I only wish to save myself some effort and get you to leave
this domain.”

The brothers
glanced at each other again, and Dramon asked, “What about this
oath you want?”

“What about
it?”

“If we have to
swear one to you, you must also swear one to us.”

“Fair enough,”
Bane said.

“So if we need
your help, you have to give it.”

“Why would you
need my help?”

Nomard
shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps this dark god you want to steal from
will try to destroy us, or our hounds.”