Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain (4 page)

Sherinias’ eyes
widened even more, and she cast Kayos a horrified look. “Father,
you must not put yourself in danger.”

“I will be all
right. Bane will protect me.”

“You trust him
very much.”

Kayos glanced
at Bane, who gazed into his Eye again. “I do.”

She gulped and
looked down at her hands. “You are all risking yourselves for me.
I... Perhaps I could help. If I find them, they will not know about
-”

“No.” Kayos
frowned at her. “You will do exactly as I say, Sherinias. This is
dangerous, and I will not allow you to make it worse. They must not
know that any of us know about them, else they will come here when
we are unprepared, invisible, and try to capture one of us.”

“They could do
that anyway,” Bane said.

“But it is
unlikely that they will. They will be making plans, creating a
flesh beast, or several. As long as they do not know that we are
aware of their presence, they will be in no hurry, for if we knew,
we would surely flee. That is why they have not cast their Eyes
upon us, nor will they.”

“We are
invisible, anyway.”

“And we must
remain so, for now. An Eye would still give them our location, but
they must know where we are.” Kayos turned to Sherinias. “When the
time comes, you will go to your birthing chamber and stay there
until it is safe to come out.”

“Yes,
Father.”

Bane looked up
with a frown. “Why is it that there are no more vehicles flying
over us, yet I can still hear humming?”

Kayos cocked
his head, and Drevarin nodded and said, “I hear it too. Perhaps it
is one of those invisible ships passing by.”

“Why would it
be in here, and why would it be invisible? Unless...” Bane leapt
up. “Move!”

Drevarin
vanished, and Kayos rose and swept up Sherinias, disappearing a
moment later. Bane Moved closer to the source of the humming,
recalling Nikira’s description of the location of a stealth ship’s
trap.

In the stealth
ship Miraculous’ dimly lighted observation room, Commander Sarjan
cursed and leant over the shoulder of his senior observation
technician, glaring at the scanner screen.

“Where the hell
did he go?”

“Don’t know,
sir,” the obstech muttered.

“Well find
him!”

“He must be out
of scanner range, sir.”

Sarjan
straightened. The three-man observation crew peered at their
screens, monitoring data and images from various sensors. Sarjan
glanced at the live feed monitor, which showed an empty gazebo in
Cloud World’s pale, billowing landscape.

“Initiate a
full scan.” He keyed a com-unit, contacting the pilot. “Turn the
ship, we’ve lost the dra’voren.”

“Sir…” The
obstech glanced up. “What if he’s sensed us?”

“Impossible.”

“He’s been
aboard one of our ships. He knows how they work.”

“He still can’t
see us.”

“There he is!”
The obstech pointed at a black figure on the edge of his screen.
“He’s closer, almost under us.”

“How the hell
did he get there?” Sarjan contacted the bridge again. “Pilot, take
us back a hundred and fifty yards.”

“Yes sir.”

Sarjan gazed at
the figure on the scanner screen, waiting for it to enter the
crosshairs that showed the target area of the translocation
generators. As the crosshairs neared it, the figure vanished again,
and Sarjan swore.

“He knows we’re
here,” the obstech said.

“Let’s not jump
to any conclusions.” Sarjan keyed the com-link once more. “Pilot,
continue to reverse until I tell you to stop.”

“Yes sir.”

“There he is!”
the obstech cried. “He moved closer again.”

Sarjan’s heart
sank. If the dra’voren could sense the ship, they were in grave
danger. All the reports he had read in preparation for this mission
had spoken of this dra’voren’s strangeness, and clearly he
possessed still more oddities they did not know about.

Kayos
rematerialised outside Sherinias’ birthing chamber and put the girl
down. She gazed at him with deep trepidation, biting her lip, and
he patted her shoulder.

“Be brave,
Daughter. Go inside and wait for me. Do not emerge, no matter what.
If you need me, call me. I must go back and help Bane.”

“Is he in
danger, Father?”

“No, of course
not.”

“Why would the
mortals send an invisible ship to harm us?”

“Not us; Bane.
He is the only one they can see with their magic. They think he is
evil.”

She frowned.
“That must happen to him a lot.”

“Yes. Go inside
now. You will be safe there.”

Sherinias went
to the door, and the wards flickered as she approached them. As
soon as she vanished inside, Kayos Moved again.

Commander
Arboran sat on his ergonomic black contoured chair on the bridge of
the battleship Valiant and gazed at the Great Gate on the main
screen. The ancient gate dwarfed the warship with its majestic
grandeur. Archaeologists had marvelled at it for centuries, as had
anyone who had seen it, or a picture of it. Sarlan City’s blue glow
illuminated the inside of it, now facing outwards as it stood open,
the pale light of Cloud World gilding the dusty ground in front of
it. Arboran had seen the images of its closing, when beams of white
fire had struck the ground not far from it, destroying the Dorilan
Dome. The fleet of warships he commanded was well out of range,
however, and the weapons seemed to be designed to protect the gate
only when it was closed, since they were inactive while it was
open.

The gate defied
all the laws of physics and logic, too massive to be supported by
any form of hinge and too heavy to close, making those who had
studied it wonder why it had been made. Yet it did close, and that
was the reason he had been ordered to destroy it. His battleship
was one of five that hovered in front of the giant gate, along with
seven destroyers stationed at various altitudes around them.

Twenty years of
military service had earned Arboran the gold braid on the sleeves
and collar of his cobalt uniform, but this was the first time he
had been ordered to attack a gate. He was pretty sure it would not
fight back. The atmosphere in the sleek, console-lined bridge was
one of hushed industry tinged with tension. Officers monitored the
scrolling data on the displays or gazed out through the main
screen. Valiant was one of the newest battleships in the fleet,
commissioned just two years ago. The pilot sat at a central
console, holding the ship steady.

“The stealth
ship is inside, sir,” the coms officer informed Arboran.

“Prepare the
first volley,” Arboran ordered. “Signal the other ships to commence
firing upon my order. Arm the missiles.”

“Yes sir.” The
weapon systems officer ran his hands over his console. “Missiles
armed.”

Arboran hated
what he was about to do. The Great Gate predated civilisation, and
should be preserved for prosperity. It saddened him that his
children and grandchildren would only see images of it. After the
missiles from five battleships and seven destroyers had pulverised
it, only rubble would remain.

Arboran said,
“Fire.”

The weapon
systems officer touched his control panel, and a dull thud sent a
shiver through the floor as four missiles fired in unison. A moment
later the projectiles came into view on the main screen, tongues of
hot blue fire propelling them, each leaving a trail of white smoke.
Others joined them from all around, fired by the other warships,
and drew together as they homed in on their target.

The weapon
systems officer intoned, “Range to target, seven hundred yards,
five hundred, three hundred, one hundred…”

The multiple
flashes of yellow brilliance as forty-eight missiles struck the
gate in quick succession forced Arboran to look away. A moment
later, the shockwave hit the ship, along with the explosions’
massive, thunderous rumble. Valiant reared like a mettlesome steed,
and alarms beeped as the pilot’s hands flew over his console,
adjusting stabilisers and generators to counter the shockwave.

The ship surged
backwards, the soft hum of its engines becoming a deep growl as it
fought to maintain its position. Arboran gripped the arms of his
chair, staring at the main screen as the flare died away. His mouth
fell open when the Great Gate emerged from the flames, its pale,
carved inner surface pitted and blackened, but intact. The bridge
officers gaped at it too, and some flung him astonished glances.
That number of missiles should have utterly destroyed a stone
structure, even one as massive as the Great Gate.

Arboran said,
“Prepare a second volley.”

“Yes sir.” The
weapon systems officer tapped keys on this console.

“Signal the
fleet,” Arboran ordered the coms-op.

“Yes sir.”

The pilot
pointed at the screen. “Look!”

Arboran
blinked, hardly able to believe his eyes. Some of the ancient
symbols carved into the stone around the gate were filling with
soft white light, brightening and dimming in a sequence that ran
around its frame from left to right. Sometimes only one lighted,
while others brightened in clusters, as if forming words in a
sentence. Archaeologists had studied the odd carvings extensively,
but had been unable to decipher the strange language, if indeed it
was a language at all. They had also been unable even to formulate
a theory about them, so mysterious were they, and what was
happening now was impossible. Stone did not give off light.

“It’s closing!”
an officer shouted.

The gate moved
with regal torpor, light glinting on it as it swung towards the
doorway.

“Arm the
missiles,” Arboran ordered.

“Missiles
armed.”

“Fire!”

A battery of
dull booms heralded a second volley of missiles that came into view
ahead of the ship a moment later, streaking towards its target.
Other projectiles joined Valiant’s salvo from the rest of the
fleet, drawing together as they neared the gate. The sequence of
lighted symbols around the portal ended, and flashes of white light
appeared on either side of the gate, no more than sparkles of
fire.

“It’s the
weapons,” another officer stated. “They’re activating again.”

“We’re out of
range,” Arboran said.

A second series
of brilliant yellow flashes filled the main screen, and Arboran
closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the flares had turned
orange. The ship reared once more as the second shockwave hit it,
and the explosion’s mighty rumble made it shudder. The pilot
struggled to keep the vessel on an even keel as it yawed and
heeled. Arboran stared at the screen, waiting for the fire and
smoke to clear.

When it did,
cold dread clutched his heart. A few chunks had been blown out of
the edge of the gate, but the damage was negligible. The gate was
half closed, and the sparkles of white fire around it became pulses
of light that shot towards them in a rising trajectory. No longer
merely webbing the gate with lines of fire, they struck out towards
the ships. Untargeted, yet deadly, they strafed the entire area in
front of the gate with bolts of white power.

“Pilot, get us
out of here!” Arboran ordered.

Valiant listed
as it swung away. Some of the other warships came into view on the
screen, most performing a similar manoeuvre. They were too late,
Arboran knew deep in his gut. The white pulses had no maximum
range; there was no way to escape them.

“Take us down!
Emergency dive!”

“Sir -”

“Do it!”

The ship’s bow
dropped as it plummeted towards the ground, and the rising lances
of light. It seemed like suicide, but there was a slight chance it
would pass through the deadly barrage without being hit. It was
their only hope. Arboran keyed a selector on his console, finding a
live feed image of the city. Vast explosions blossomed from it in
lines of destruction that matched the trajectory of the pulses of
fire.

“What have we
done?” he whispered.

White light
blinded him as a massive explosion tore through the ship. Searing
heat engulfed him, and the screams of dying men reached him just
before blackness slammed down.

Bane glanced
around as thunderous explosions came from the gate hall, and black
smoke billowed out of it. He scowled. “Infernal idiots.”

A moment later,
the realm gate’s distant chiming reached him, its tones faster than
normal, indicating warning and urgency.

Kayos appeared
beside him and frowned at the gate hall. “They are attacking the
realm gate?”

“It would
appear so.”

“They will pay
for that.”

“You want me to
-?”

“No, do not
concern yourself,” Kayos said. “The domain’s defences have been
triggered. The gate will close, and everything outside it will be
destroyed.”

“Everything?”

“Well,
certainly whatever is attacking it, and large portions of that
city.”

“The
refugees?”

Kayos shook his
head. “They are beyond the mountain. They will be fine. Where is
this invisible ship of yours?”

Bane raised his
eyebrows. “It is not mine.”

“Well, you are
the one chasing it.”

“I have not
caught it yet, but it is somewhere over there.” He gestured.
“Moving away. They are trying to get me into their trap.”

A second
battery of explosions and cloud of smoke came from the gate hall,
and Kayos gazed at it again. “What makes these mortals imagine they
can attack a realm gate and live to tell the tale?”

“Stupidity?”

“Indeed.” Kayos
chuckled. “This must be the first time mortals have attacked a
realm gate. I have not heard of it before.”

“Is this why
you told me that I could not breach one?”