Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain (30 page)

A hand touched
her shoulder, and pale light engulfed her, then she stood beside
her cloud couch in the gazebo once more. Kayos sank onto his couch,
and she sat on hers, wondering where Bane was.

“Thank you,
Father.”

“Thank Bane. He
would have saved you. I just made it a little easier. He has had
enough trials and tribulations without being forced to fight demons
to rescue you. Also, he could not use the dark power so close to
you. He might have killed you.”

She suppressed
a shiver. “I shall, when I see him again.”

Kayos reclined
and summoned a cup of ambrosia. “I advise you to stay away from his
boots.”

She smiled. “Of
course, Father.”

“Now you
understand why you cannot go to the mid realm alone. Until Bane
creates the wards, it is a dangerous place for you. Demons will try
to capture you, either on the orders of one of the dark gods, or
because they want to hand you over to one of them when they emerge
from the Land of the Dead, and thus curry favour. They can take you
to the Underworld using a Fetch, and until you have the power to
Move, they can hold you prisoner and torment you until Bane or I
come to your rescue. That is why the Oracle will not take you to
the mid realm.”

Sarmalin
strolled along a broad silvery road that led into Airedene, Sacred
City of Angels, her folded wings bouncing on her back. She could
have flown, or used a Channel, but the walk was pleasant and she
was in no hurry. White clouds bounded the shining highway, one of
many that crossed the depths of Deryniar, deep in one of the
wildest regions of the God Realm. The floating city drifted high
above a dusty orange plain, a gift from Ordur, who had created it.
The Elder God sometimes visited his special children, but mostly he
roamed the God Realm, ordered wild regions and explored newly
formed areas. At the city’s centre, a shining tower housed the
Circle of Light, twelve high-ranking archangels who discussed and
ordered the doings of angels all over the God Realm.

The roads
radiated from the city’s hub, where diamond spires pierced the
clouds. From above, the citadel resembled a giant, glittering
flower, its lustrous boulevards splitting into narrower lanes that
wound between shining houses where angels dwelt. Hazy, distant
mountain ranges bounded the plain on all sides, penned the city in
and protected it somewhat from the vast storms that swept through
on occasion.

Two yellow suns
shone in the sky today, filling its misty reaches with soft golden
light. Yesterday there had been four, two yellow, one green and one
blue, which had shed a strange aquamarine light and turned the
clouds a peculiar shade of pale yellowish-green. Today was a far
prettier day, the calm air scented by the exotic blossoms that grew
in angels’ gardens and numerous shady parks. Thus it was in this
area of the God Realm, each day different, some swept by wild
storms, others calm and balmy, a few ravaged by fire and ice. It
made the otherwise boring existence of angels a little more
interesting.

Pillars of
white fire wandered the surrounding God Realm, guardians that
warded against dark creatures and gods. There had been a time, ages
ago, when the pillars had moved to and fro at speed, destroying the
darkness, but these days they drifted aimlessly, since few foes
approached the Sacred City anymore.

The seer’s home
was tucked away in a glowing alley paved with diamond, the
surrounding buildings made from alabaster and marble, some with
crystal roofs. Everything in Airedene shone with soft radiance,
even when there were no suns in the sky. Sarmalin inclined her head
to friends, her smile a fixture even though sorrow filled her
heart. The seer, Ezmaral, was her only contact with her long-lost
husband, imprisoned these past five hundred years in a dark realm
far from Airedene. She missed him still, as did their daughter, and
wished there was a way to free him from the dark god who had
mutilated, tortured and imprisoned him. Perhaps Majelin had been
foolish to try to save a light god from the monster who had
attacked him, but she did not blame him, any more than she blamed
the light god he had tried to save. Lord Pretarin had perished, and
Majelin had paid a high price for his bravery.

Entering the
radiant residence, she paused, waiting for Ezmaral to sense her
presence and welcome her. The elderly angel sat in his usual spot,
basking in the sunlight that poured through the transparent roof,
his snowy wings outstretched. His long white hair framed a serene,
fine-featured face whose slightly darkened skin – a strange,
greyish-golden hue – told of his vast age, well over ten thousand
years. Despite his elderliness, he remained otherwise untouched by
time, his well-muscled torso draped in a swathe of air-cloth from
one shoulder, belted at his hips with braided gold. He opened dark
green eyes and smiled at her, gesturing to the gilded chair on the
other side of the delicate crystal table in front of him. She sank
onto it, raising her wings. He drew the silver bowl that rested on
the table closer, poured water into it from a pitcher and set it
down with a clink.

“There is much
afoot in that domain now,” he said.

“What has
happened?”

“There is a
strange rumour of a dark god accompanied by three light gods, one
of them a Grey God.”

Sarmalin stared
at him, surprised. “How can a dark god be powerful enough to
enslave a Grey God, as well as two other light gods?”

“That is a good
question, which the Circle is pondering, even now. Many strange
things have been happening there. The humans try to fight the dark
god, a futile endeavour, but they are godless and ignorant.
Strangely, he has not punished them, and the Grey God has awakened
Pretarin’s daughter.”

“Who is the
Grey God?”

He leant across
the table and lowered his voice as if afraid of being overheard.
“Kayos.”

She
straightened in surprise. “That is not possible, surely? Kayos is
far too powerful to be enslaved.”

“That is what I
thought,” he agreed, leaning back. “Yet, there it is. There is only
one other explanation, but it is so outlandish that I fear the
Circle will not even consider it.”

“What is
that?”

“That the one
whose company he keeps is not a true dark god. He is
tar’merin.”

Sarmalin’s
heart pounded. “Could it be?”

“It is
extremely unlikely, but then, so is Kayos being enslaved.”

“But if it is
true, Majelin has hope.”

Ezmaral
hesitated. “Even if the dark god is tar’merin, who will tell him of
Majelin’s plight? And even if someone did, there is no certainty
that he would help. To him, the suffering of an angel is
inconsequential.”

“Someone will,
and he will save Majelin.”

“You sound
certain.”

“I am.”

Ezmaral
inclined his head. “Would you like news of your husband now?”

“Yes,
please.”

The elder angel
turned to the bowl and gazed into it. “He remains as ever, but I
fear that he is in grave danger now that the dark gods whose
plaything he was have been cast down. He is at the mercy of the
demons, and they have none.”

“Neither do
dark gods, yet Majelin has survived all these centuries. I believe
fate has brought this tar’merin to that domain to restore the
balance.”

“I hope you are
right, my dear.”

“The light
protects its most precious children.” She rose. “Thank you for the
seeing.”

Ezmaral smiled
as Sarmalin swept out, her head high and her heart buoyant with
fresh hope.

Bane stood
beside Drevarin on a mountainside that gave a view of Darjahan,
capital of Bayona, and the landscape for leagues around it. Low
grey clouds made the outlook dismal, and a cold breeze rippled his
cloak. In the distance, forks of lightning flickered to the ground
from a black storm, too far away for the thunder to reach them. The
scent of rain on hot rocks rode the wind, mingled with the faint
pungency of sulphur. The mid realm’s worsening weather and frequent
seismic activity was the result of the masses of shadows and light
in it, along with humanity’s abuse.

Since the dark
gods who had ruled the domain had not been bent on destroying it,
the dark power had merely infused everything, dispersing throughout
air, earth and water. That made it difficult for Bane to send
below, and he had decided not to bother. It would seep back of its
own accord over the centuries, and he did not believe this world
was destined to last all that long anyway. Even though the Sources
and world gates were now closed, the two powers warred in unnatural
storms that laid waste to vast tracts of land, and the oceans
sometimes rose to flood coastal towns. One such storm, accompanied
by violent earth tremors, had swept through Darjahan just days
before, wreaking havoc. That was why he and Drevarin were here, to
see the resulting devastation.

Weird rock
formations rose from the ravaged ground, where lava had erupted in
geysers and flash-cooled in the ice storm. Part of the city’s
residential area had sunk into a depression and been engulfed by
lava, and ravines snaked across fields and agricultural land. A
forest’s trees leant drunkenly, some dying, their roots undermined.
A few of the city’s glass towers had gaping holes in them where
windows had shattered, and other buildings had collapsed
altogether.

The light god
turned to him. “I have often wondered what it would be like to
fight a dark god.”

Bane smiled. “I
would not recommend it.”

“But if I was
attacked, what would be the best thing for me to do?”

“Flee, or go
into your shield sphere.”

“I have been
thinking,” Drevarin said, “with you to teach me, perhaps I can
learn to defend myself better, even fight back.”

“You would be
dead in minutes if you tried it with a dark god.”

“Nevertheless,
I am curious. I would like to see what happens.”

“You want to
fight me?” Bane enquired, amused.

“Why not? I
think it would be an interesting experience. Do you not also want
to know how well a light god could defend himself?”

“I would never
attack one. When one attacked me, he did not survive long. Or, at
least, I think he died. I am unsure.”

“What fool
attacked you?” Drevarin asked.

“An ignorant
child, who thought the light could kill me because I am mortal. It
would have worked, too, except I cast out the dark power, which
killed him, I think.”

“Huh. Still, I
would like to see what happens. Perhaps you can teach me how to use
the light to fight back. If I could use it the way you use the
shadows…”

Bane shook his
head. “The light is creation and life, although I used it to defeat
a dark god once.”

“How did you do
that?”

“A light
goddess channelled it through me.”

“So why would
it not work for me, if it worked for you?”

“I do not
know.”

Drevarin
created a shining shield and thumped Bane on the shoulder with it
in a flash of blue fire. “Come on.”

“See, you are
already thinking of defence, not attack, and if you got close
enough to a dark god to hit him with your shield, you would already
be dead.”

The light god
pondered the shield. “So I should form it into a weapon, like a
sword?”

“Can you?”

Drevarin
frowned at the shield, and it reformed into a glowing lance. “How
about that?”

“Better, but
again, if you got close enough to your foe, he would kill you
before you had a chance to use it. The white power protects. It
does not destroy.”

“But you
destroyed with it.”

“I used it as I
do the shadows.”

“Show me.”

Bane turned and
directed a blast of black fire at a rock, turning it into a pool of
lava.

Drevarin gazed
at it. “If I did that, it would do no harm. Yet I can destroy
shadows.”

“Light is
stronger than darkness, but only if the shadows are not commanded.”
Bane gestured, causing a black shield to shoot up from the ground.
“Try to destroy that.”

Drevarin raised
a hand, and a snaking filament of light shot from it and struck the
shield, mantling it in blue fire. When the fire died, the shield
remained. He contemplated it. “So if I did that to a dark
god…?”

“It would
tickle him a little.”

“But it worked
for you.”

“I did not use
it like that,” Bane said. “I formed it into a stream, as I do the
darkness. Perhaps it was because I know how to use the darkness to
destroy; that is what it wants to do, while the light is a harmless
healer.”

“So if you
could use the light, you could destroy dark gods with it.”

“Yes.”

“But you
cannot.”

“It does not
obey me, and it burns me.”

Drevarin
nodded. “Because you are mortal.” He reformed the shield and
thumped Bane with it again. “Come on; show me how to defend myself.
In fact, we should do it in the city.”

“Why?”

“They do not
believe in gods, but perhaps they would if they saw some.”

“They would
dismiss us as weird beings with powers.”

“Perhaps not
all of them,” Drevarin said.

“So you want to
give them a show, a dark god fighting a light god?”

“It would be
impressive, do you not think?”

Bane smiled.
“Until I accidentally blew your head off. Mind you, that
would
be impressive.”

“What if we
both used shields?”

Bane considered
the young god, a little curious despite his reservations. He would
certainly not find another light god with the courage to challenge
him. “I suppose that would be safe enough.”

Drevarin
chuckled. “A dark god, afraid to fight me.”

The darkness
within Bane surged at Drevarin’s words, hating them, and he quelled
it. Even a mock fight between them would test his command of the
shadows, probably more than Sherinias’ impertinence had, but he was
confident he could control it. He formed a black shield in his
hand, red motes sparkling within it, and Drevarin stepped back,
raising his, then lunged, striking Bane’s shield in a blinding
explosion of blue fire and a sizzling thunderclap.