Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain (13 page)

Drevarin said,
“Arise and be at ease. No harm will come to you.”

An elderly
light priestess stepped forward. “Lord Drevarin, I am overjoyed to
see you again.” She hesitated. “Where is Lord Bane?”

“He is busy,
Sarrin. I offered to assist.”

“Thank you,
Lord.” Sarrin bowed to Sherinias. “Lady Sherinias, we are honoured
to meet you.”

The young
goddess smiled. “It gladdens my heart to meet mortals who honour my
brother and treat him as he deserves.”

“He saved us
all.”

A blonde girl
in a white dress approached, flanked by a middle-aged man and a
younger grey-eyed warrior, who chivvied people from her path.

“Is he all
right?” she asked Drevarin.

“Yes, My
Lady.”

Sherinias said,
“You must be my brother’s wife. I was somewhat surprised to learn
that he has a wife, but also pleased. You must indeed be a special
person to have won his heart, and it brings me joy to meet you, My
Lady.”

“I am likewise
delighted to meet you, Lady Sherinias.” Mirra inclined her head,
then introduced the middle-aged man beside her, who bore a
resemblance to Bane.

Sherinias’
smile widened as Mithran bowed low, his ears reddening. “His flesh
father. How wonderful! He is indeed a youth. I am pleased. He takes
after you a little.”

“He looks more
like his mother, Lady,” Mithran replied.

Mirra
introduced the grey-eyed warrior, and Sherinias turned her smile
upon the handsome man, who bowed. “So Bane has a mortal friend,
too. My brother never ceases to surprise me.”

Drevarin
glanced up as the ships arrived and strafed the semi-transparent
dome, which brightened where the blue fire struck. The people
tensed at the futile bombardment, but soon relaxed, turned to each
other with murmurs of wonder and cast Drevarin grateful smiles.

Bane Moved to
the light realm again. Sweat beaded his brow and blood oozed from a
cut in his shoulder and another on his chest where Tolrar’s dagger
had slipped past his guard. The dark god was cunning, but not much
of a fighter. Bane unleashed another torrent of black fire with his
free hand, which burnt away part of Tolrar’s droge shell and made
him writhe and howl as the light attacked him.

Bane drew off
the shadows that formed him, gripped his left wrist and blocked the
swings of his sword, which were, for the most part, ineffectual.
Either Tolrar still thought he could win, or his beast god friend
was awake. Bane’s breath came in harsh gasps as he strived to hold
onto Tolrar and keep the dagger and sword at bay, fatigue taking
its toll. When fully fit, he was a match for a droge, but his
mortality became a disadvantage the longer he struggled and the
more tired he became.

Each time Bane
seemed on the brink of triumphing, Tolrar dipped into his
surprisingly large reserves of power and Moved. This time, however,
he appeared to be too weak. He growled as his form shrivelled,
eaten away by the light, unable to regenerate it as long as Bane
drew off his power. He tried to wrench free, and the dagger sliced
into Bane’s forearm, making him grimace and twist Tolrar’s arm
until it bent.

Bane countered
another slash of the dark god’s sword, but Tolrar’s strokes had
lost their power, and he dwindled. He cast away his weapon and
reached for Bane’s throat with long clawed fingers, and the Demon
Lord seized Tolrar’s arm. Tolrar roared, dragging Bane around as he
strived to break free, for perhaps without the burden of his foe,
he could still have Moved.

Bane increased
his Gather, all seven runes flaring yellow under his shirt. Tolrar
shrank, his roar becoming faint and torn. The last shreds of his
shadow form clung to his ruddy soul, too tenuous for Bane to hold,
and he spread his hands to take control of the remnants. All he had
to do was crush Tolrar’s soul and he would be destroyed, yet he
hesitated. After the ordeal of destroying Torvaran, he had no wish
to gain more foul memories. Closing his hands, he released the
soul, and it shot down through the clouds, drawn back to the dark
realm.

The Demon Lord
panted clouds of steam, aching in the aftermath of using the dark
power and still filled with that which he had Gathered from Tolrar.
His wounds hurt, but he had escaped with fewer injuries than ever
before. His muscles throbbed and jumped after the strain they had
been under during the battle. He bowed his head and closed his
eyes, letting the tension seep out of him. A frisson of dark power
made him look up and spin around as the jaws of the beast god
closed upon him. Its lower teeth tore into his belly and its top
jaw smashed down on his head. Darkness blotted everything out.

Kayos stared at
the monstrous beast, his heart gripped by cold dread. It swung Bane
high and smashed him onto the ground with a sickening crunch of
breaking bones. For an instant the Grey God was frozen with horror,
then he leapt at the beast god and seized its tail, making it lash
and hiss. Its sibilant words reached him, filled with hatred and
fury at the defeat of its friend, swearing vengeance. Its head
swooped towards him, its neck curving close to its flank as it
sought the invisible enemy that clung to its tail, dragging him
closer. Kayos Moved, seeking the only place where a dark god could
be defeated without Bane.

Senior
Containment Technician Erton fidgeted at his station in Miraculous’
containment room, wishing Commander Sarjan had ordered the contechs
to abandon ship along with the rest of the non-essential
crewmembers. Being a member of the skeleton crew made him uneasy.
He knew what the dra’voren had done to the ship, although the
containment room had escaped unscathed, which made no sense. Surely
the dra’voren should have destroyed it first, since it posed a
threat to him?

The ship had
landed, and the generators idled, barely audible, while rescue
crews searched the ravaged decks for survivors, engineers repaired
the generator and damage control teams extinguished fires. Erton
saw no point in a containment crew remaining on station. There was
no chance of capturing any dra’voren when the ship was so badly
damaged. The events of the past few hours gave him much to discuss
with his two fellow contechs, who watched a vidscreen that showed
rescue teams pulling survivors from the wreckage.

“Did you see
what happened when that other dra’voren arrived?” the junior
contech enquired.

Erton nodded.
Just about everyone must have seen it on the internal monitors,
since most had been watching the first dra’voren destroying the
ship, and he had been no exception. “Bloody amazing. He almost
shoved that bastard right through the wall.”

“I’ve heard
that he’s like us, but if he is, how the hell can he be so
strong?”

As the other
contech opened his mouth to comment, several alarms went off at
once, making them jump. Erton looked at his scanner screen, where a
vast black form filled the shredder room.

“Shit!
Dra’voren!”

Erton smacked
the stunner button, and a thud shivered the floor. He activated the
generators with shaking hands, his stomach knotted. If the
generators did not react fast enough, the dra’voren might wake, and
it was so large he was unsure of how effective the stunner had
been, or would be, should he have to use it again. If he
miscalculated the necessity, it could vanish in a blink, and now it
knew about the ship. He scowled at the data screen’s readouts while
the generators’ faint hum rose in pitch and increased in volume as
they came online. The other two contechs gaped at the huge
reptilian creature that filled the shredder room. In fact, it
overflowed it, Erton noticed when he glanced at the scanner screen
again. It only had three legs, and parts of its torso, neck and
tail were missing.

Its head was
squashed against its flank, as if it had been trying to reach its
tail when it had arrived, and it was now packed into the room. He
could only surmise that the missing bits were embedded in the
walls, roof and floor, or protruded from the hull and into the
surrounding rooms, although not into the containment room. Whatever
had sent it must have dematerialised it, as the trap did.

With one
generator offline, the reliability of the other three was
compromised, for they were designed to work in unison. Since the
ship was landed and visible, three would be sufficient for a shred,
but only just. Erton tore his eyes from his data screen, where
readouts tracked the slow rise of the generators’ power, and stared
through the shredder room window. Glossy black scales pressed
against the armoured glass, each one edged with crimson.

The mid-rank
contech muttered, “What the hell is that?”

“Some sort of
giant lizard?” Erton hazarded.

“It’s a
dra’voren?”

He nodded.
“According to the scanners.”

“How the hell
did it get in there?”

“I don’t know,
unless that mortal dra’voren sent it.”

“Could he do
that?”

Erton shook his
head. “How should I know?”

Commander
Sarjan strode in, followed by three officers, and approached Erton.
“What triggered the alarms?”

The senior
contech nodded at the window. “That.”

Sarjan’s eyes
widened. “Where did that come from?”

“No idea,
sir.”

“Well don’t
just sit there, shred it.”

“Yes sir.”
Erton tapped keys and read the information that scrolled up the
screen. “Power output is only at eighty-nine percent.”

“Do it.”

“Sir.
Lodestones activated. Shredding.”

The generators’
hum changed to a deep throb, and several minutes passed without any
apparent effect. Erton made minor adjustments, trying to boost the
power in the shredder room, but once a shred had been initiated,
the output could not be increased significantly. He wondered if the
dra’voren was too large to be shredded, and whether its bulk
prevented the light guns from spinning. Then, to his relief,
flickers of blue light appeared along the top of the window.

On Erton’s
scanner screen, grey areas streaked the creature’s solid black
bulk. The shred was taking a long time, and he feared the dra’voren
might wake before it was destroyed. Glancing at the clock, he
pushed the stunner button again, and another shudder ran through
the floor. The blue light at the top of the window grew brighter as
it ate away at the monster, shredding its form while the lodestones
drew off its power. A tense silence filled the room as the beast
dwindled until the window was filled with blue brilliance, and
Sarjan donned his dark goggles. On the scanner screen, the
blackness dwindled to remnants, and when it was a solid green,
Erton switched off the light guns.

“Shred
complete.”

Sarjan stared
through the window as the blue light died away, his brows drawing
together. A man lay on the far side of the room in an awkward
huddle, his crimson-lined black cloak soaking up the pool of blood
that spread from him. His legs were bent at odd angles, and jet
hair hid his face.

Realisation hit
Sarjan like a bucket of ice water. “It’s the mortal dra’voren.”

His second in
command, Ferid, went to a console. “I’ll call a squad. We’ve only
got light guns.”

“No.” Sarjan
swung around. “I gave my word.”

“He’s a
dra’voren!”

“It doesn’t
matter. I don’t break my word, to anyone.”

“Need I remind
you about what happened to Commander Nikira?”

“Need I remind
you that he saved us from the one who was destroying the ship?”

Ferid frowned.
“What do you intend to do with him then, Commander? He’s badly
injured. He won’t survive without our help. Hell, he might be dead
already.”

“He hasn’t
harmed us, and I swore an oath.”

“You didn’t
swear to help him.”

“What if he is
what he said? What if he’s good?”

“A good
dra’voren?” Ferid asked in a disbelieving tone.

“He said he’s
not a dra’voren. Damn it, he saved us! He helped us shred three
dra’voren, and gave us a droge and a fiend to study.”

“He probably
did it to gain our trust.”

Sarjan leant
closer. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have him as a
friend than an enemy.”

“I’d rather
have him dead, Commander.”

“What if he
doesn’t die? I swore not to kill him.”

“Then he can’t
complain.”

Sarjan shook
his head. “He saved the ship because I asked him to. I owe him. We
all do. If not for him, we’d all be dead and the ship
destroyed.”

“And if we save
him, he may still kill us all.”

“I don’t think
so.”

Sarjan went to
the shredder room door and tapped in the unlock code. The door slid
open, and he hesitated on the threshold, reviewing his decision as
he gazed at the unconscious man who had filled him with such dread
before. He was harmless now, but what would he do when he woke?
Would he be grateful they had saved him or scorn Sarjan for keeping
his word, as a dra’voren would? If he was dead, would the other
dra’voren return and destroy the ship? What had happened to Tolrar?
Had Bane lost the battle, and where had the monster that had
arrived with him come from? Putting aside his misgivings, he
approached Bane, crouched beside him and felt for a pulse in his
neck. He glanced back at the officers who stood in the doorway.

“He’s alive.
Get a medical team in here, on the double.”

“All the teams
are busy with our men,” Ferid said.

“We can spare
one. Now, Ferid.”

“Yes sir.”

Ferid passed
the order on to the senior contech, who opened a com-link with the
hospital to request a medical team. Sarjan gazed down at Bane
again, wondering if he had made the right decision. Evidently the
dra’voren was badly injured, for the blood that seeped through his
shirt now spread from the edges of his cloak.