Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain (5 page)

“Partly,
although the retaliation would have been far worse if the gate had
been closed when they attacked it. The weapons were dormant, so
their reaction was slow.”

“We must Move,”
Bane said, pointing ahead. “Over there.” When they rematerialised,
he looked up. “I think it must be right above us now. I have been
tracking it by its hum, and it is loudest here.”

“What do you
intend to do?”

“This ship can
defeat a dark god, so if I take it to the mid realm and instruct
them to hunt the dra’voren there, it might save me a few
battles.”

“Good
idea.”

Bane whipped
around as a bang, followed by a muted hissing roar, came from
behind them. A shiny metal cylinder shot towards them, a fierce
tongue of fire sprouting from its tail. In reflex, he flung a bolt
of dark power at it, and the cylinder exploded. The concussion
lifted him off his feet and hurled him into the clouds, where he
landed with a grunt, agony lancing from his chest. He lay winded,
and moments later Kayos arrived beside him and knelt. Bane
struggled to suck in air, grimacing.

“How badly are
you hurt?” Kayos demanded.

Bane shook his
head and raised a hand to clasp his chest. Another bang and hissing
roar came from the same direction as the first, and Kayos looked
around. A second cylinder flew at them, and the Grey God raised his
hand in a sweeping gesture. A shield of white fire shot up from the
ground, curving over them as he crouched over Bane. The explosion’s
thunderous boom hammered at Bane’s ears, and the shield flared as
it absorbed the concussion.

Bane drew in a
breath and struggled to sit up. “We must Move.”

“We are safe
-”

“The trap.”

The shield sank
back into the earth, and Kayos hauled Bane to his feet, supporting
him when he staggered.

Bane pointed.
“Over there.”

Kayos nodded
and released him. Bane Moved to the place he had indicated, and
Kayos appeared a few feet away, striding over to him. “Are you all
right?”

Bane nodded.
“Just winded and bruised. I should have used a shield.”

“You did not
know it would explode.”

“Sometimes
attack is not the best form of defence.”

“Occasionally.
Where is the ship now?”

Bane glanced
up. “Above us, moving away again.”

“Time to put an
end to this. Are you recovered?”

“Well enough.
We will be safe inside, at least. Will you make us invisible?”

“Certainly.”

Bane spoke the
harsh word that allowed him to pass through solid matter and rose
on a column of black fire, Kayos following. The ship’s hull slowed
the Demon Lord, then he shot up through several decks, hoping this
ship’s layout was the same as Retribution’s. Keeping track of the
number of decks and the types of rooms he passed through, Bane
found his way to the bridge, but there was no one there wearing a
commander’s gold-trimmed uniform. He glanced at Kayos, who
shrugged, then followed when Bane sank back through the floor,
descending several decks to the observation room, where a lanky,
hatchet-faced man in a cobalt uniform with gold braid on the collar
and cuffs bent over a minion. The commander studied one of the
glowing squares with bloodshot brown eyes, lines of weariness and
worry scoring his brow.

“He’s not
reappearing, Commander,” the crewman muttered.

“We injured him
with that missile. He was on the ground.”

Bane strolled
closer, Kayos behind him.

The crewman
shook his head. “Well he’s not there anymore.”

“Then where the
hell is he?”

Bane nodded to
Kayos, who released him from the light shield, remaining
cloaked.

“Right behind
you,” Bane said.

The commander
spun around, his mouth dropped open and his eyes bulged as they
swept over Bane. He made a grab for the black weapon in a holster
on his belt, and Bane gestured. It vanished, and the commander
stumbled back. The Demon Lord frowned at the other three men, who
sat frozen, gaping at him.

“Your weapons
cannot harm me, but they will annoy me, so do not try to use them.”
Bane approached the commander, whose retreat was foiled by one of
the many consoles that filled the dim room. “Have you a name?”

“S-Sarjan.”

“Well,
Commander Sarjan, your little jaunt is at an end. Your weapon did
indeed knock the wind out of me.” Bane rubbed his chest. “An
interesting experience, but one I do not care to repeat. I am Bane,
the Demon Lord.”

“You’re a
dra’voren,” Sarjan said in a choked voice.

Bane closed the
gap between them in a swift stride and loomed over Sarjan, who
leant away, going grey with shock. Bane murmured, “No, I am not. If
I was, you would all be dead now.” He cocked his head. “You like
defeating dra’voren, do you not, Sarjan?” The commander nodded, and
Bane turned away. “You will obey me.”

Sarjan
straightened. “I can’t do that.”

“If you refuse,
I shall just make you do as I wish. You have no choice. You and
your crew are at my mercy now.”

“We’d rather
die than serve a dra’voren.”

“Heroic
sentiments, and laudable, if I was a one; but I do not have the
patience to try to convince you that I am not. You will not find
the task I set you too distasteful.”

Sarjan glowered
at him. “What do you want?”

“There are
three dark gods, and possibly a beast god, in your world.”

“Impossible.”

“Not at all.
They amuse themselves amongst your people, disguised as powerful
individuals such as kings, nobles or priests. Their idea of fun
includes torture, the black arts and barbaric rituals involving
human sacrifices and orgies. They murder and rape, pillage and
destroy. Do you know of anyone who does such things?”

Sarjan’s eyes
narrowed. “The president of Vockroy; he’s been invading small
countries for years.”

“And before
that, I will wager there was another country that did the
same.”

Sarjan nodded.
“Armalon, but it was defeated by the Coalition of the Federated
Union, of which Vockroy was a member. Then Parsimon was elected,
and they started doing it themselves.”

“So, Parsimon
is one. I will wager a man’s weight in gold on it. I was awaiting
news of who they are, so I could cast them down and trap them below
with wards, when you so rudely attacked us.” Bane glanced around at
the observation crew, whose members tensed as his gaze swept over
them. “All these dictators are the same man, or dra’voren, adopting
new disguises to find his amusement amongst your people. Next time,
he could choose your country. Wars are most satisfying, especially
when much blood is shed.”

“You’re
lying.”

“I could be,
but do your instruments?”

“No.”

“And I will
wager you have no ships like this one in your world,” Bane
said.

“Why would we?
The dra’voren are out in the Wastes.”

“The three who
dwell in your world are not. It is their playground. They have
chosen sport instead of destruction, as many do. It is still a lot
of fun, with the added boon of offering a constant source of
amusement, instead of having to find new domains to destroy.
Entering a domain is hard, unless the realm gate is open, as yours
has been for centuries.” Bane’s eyes flicked over him. “I was not
going to bother to save your people from them, but your newly born
goddess is my adopted sister, and I cannot allow dark gods to
enslave her.”

“So you want us
to destroy your competition, then you can rule our world
yourself.”

“I have no
interest in ruling idiots like you, or anyone else for that matter.
When this world is safe, and the gate closed, I shall leave.”

Sarjan eyed
him, and Bane wondered if he would show such bravery if he had the
option of fleeing. “There are no such things as gods. They’re just
a myth.”

Bane shrugged.
“I do not care what you think, but you will defeat the dra’voren in
your world, voluntarily, or not.”

“We can’t go to
Bayona in this ship.”

“Yes, we can.
Tell your steersman to fly to the world gate.”

“How do I know
you’re telling the truth?” Sarjan demanded.

“When you find
that your powerful dictators are actually dra’voren, you will
know.”

“And if they’re
not?”

“Then my theory
is wrong, but soon I shall have the identity of all of them.”

“We have no
objection to destroying dra’voren, if there are any, but if
Parsimon isn’t one, we’re not going to kill him.”

“Of course
not.” Bane tilted his head. “Are we at the world gate yet?”

Sarjan touched
a device on the console beside him and instructed the man who
appeared in the glowing box to fly to the Golden Gates. Bane had
learnt that the thin square devices were called screens, or
monitors. The scenery on the main screen, mounted on the bulkhead
at the front of the room, moved past.

Bane nodded.
“Good.”

Sarjan licked
his lips, his eyes roaming over Bane, filled with well-disguised
fear. “Where’s Commander Nikira?”

“Safe, with
some other people I rescued. She was not guilty of the crime.”

“Hundreds of
people died in the Dorilan Dome, and many were injured when they
were evicted from Cloud World.”

Bane sat on a
console and flicked his cloak over his shoulders, revealing the
blood-red lining. “Yes, that was regrettable. But no one was killed
when they were cast from the light realm, where they had no right
to be, and your leader was warned that the realm gate would be
closed, but he chose to ignore it. Therefore, the blame for those
people’s deaths lies with him.”

“I heard about
that. Was he supposed to believe the ravings of a deranged
woman?”

“Yes. When an
emissary brings you the words of a god, you believe them. Ah, but
you do not believe in gods.” Bane smiled. “That is as foolish as my
saying that I do not believe in humans, when here you are, right in
front of me. But that is your choice. Attacking a realm gate,
however, was idiotic.”

“Why?”

“Because your
warships triggered this domain’s defences. As you can imagine,
nothing is as devastating as weapons designed to protect an entire
world. Even I would hesitate to activate them, yet your people, in
their arrogance, did just that.”

Sarjan gripped
the console behind him. “You’re lying.”

“Please
yourself. You will find out in good time.”

“Our
ships?”

“Gone, I
suspect, as are large chunks of your city outside. That too, you
can only blame on your leaders. What possessed them to try to
destroy the one thing that keeps your world safe from the terrors
of the God Realm?”

“It blocked us
from our world,” Sarjan said.

“You were not
supposed to be outside, and rest assured, it still does.”

“It wasn’t
destroyed?”

Bane shook his
head. “No. It would take a great deal more than your puny weapons
to destroy a realm gate. It is a challenge I may tackle one day, if
I must, but for now even I would not try it.”

A tinny voice
spoke from the console behind Sarjan. “Commander, we’re at the
Golden Gates.”

Bane glanced up
at the big screen, which showed a pair of glinting, dappled gold
gates. They stood open, and white power poured through them like
mist, but they were undamaged. That, he supposed, was because
Torvaran had entered through the realm gate and opened them from
the inside. A soft swish made him swing around as the door at the
back of the observation room opened.

A dozen
uniformed men dashed in, pointing black tubes at him. He raised a
hand, and a shield formed in it as the men fired their weapons with
a rattling roar. The projectiles ricocheted off the shield and
whined around the room, striking the walls with tinny bangs. Sarjan
and his crew dived behind the consoles, and sparks flew from some
of the instruments as projectiles hit them. Bane gestured, and the
soldiers yelled and dropped their weapons, wringing singed hands.
They shot him terrified looks and sprinted out of the door, which
closed behind them. Bane glared at the commander, who cowered on
the floor, his hands over his head. A heavy, pregnant silence fell,
then Sarjan risked a glance up at him.

“Get up,” Bane
ordered. “You try my patience. The door will not open again, so do
not bother calling any more of your men.”

Sarjan rose to
his feet, clearly shaken and somewhat cowed.

The Demon Lord
looked up at the screen again and gestured to it. “Take the ship
through the gate.”

“That will kill
us all. It’s a thirteen thousand-league drop to Bayona.”

“Do as I
say.”

“Is this how
you plan to kill us?”

Bane snorted.
“Just do it.”

Sarjan turned
and tapped a key on the console behind him, causing the monitor
atop it to fill with an image of a man’s visage. He addressed it.
“Pilot, take us through the Golden Gates.”

“Commander, you
know we can’t do that.”

“Explain why
not.”

“The automatic
pilot will kick in and stop us.”

Sarjan faced
Bane again. “You see? It can’t be done.”

“It can, just
not by you, it seems.” Bane sighed and spread his hands towards the
floor. Shadows flowed from his palms to form twin conduits that
licked over the carpet before sinking into it. Sarjan paled and
clamped a hand over his mouth as the dark power chilled the room.
Bane sent the shadows throughout the ship, took control of it and
strengthened it.

“I have not
tried this before, so you should probably hold onto something,” he
said.

The ship surged
forward, and alarms buzzed and whooped. The officers stared at the
main screen, their faces rigid with astonishment and fear. The
gates loomed ahead, and Bane turned the ship to avoid the nearer
one, which seemed in danger of scraping the hull. The vessel passed
through the portal and hung poised over the abyss, then fell. Men
clung to their consoles as they floated into the air. The engines’
throbbing hum rose to a tortured scream, and the pilot on the
screen dragged himself to his console to throttle them back.