When Angels Fall (Demon Lord) (29 page)

“
I think they have learnt an important lesson today.”

“The demons will not return for some time.
We never will. The battle for this world is over. Let fate prevail. You should leave, Demon Lord.”

“I intend to.
What about the dark angels?”

“As far as we know, only three remain. My brethren are hunting them.”

Bane nodded. “I am grateful for your aid, and that of your comrades.”

“
I only fulfil my oath, and as for the others, this is their purpose. No thanks are required.”

“Where is Sarmalin?”

“She is at home, safe. I forbade her to come.”

The Demon Lord smiled. “I know what that is like.”

“What?”

“Forbidding spouses to put themselves in danger.”

“Yours too?”

“Indeed.”

“I doubt your lady wife will succeed in keeping you out of peril,” Majelin said, “but now you have me to help when you require it. Perhaps she will find that comforting.”

“
It might help.”

“
In order to fight for the light, we must step into the darkness.”

“And some of us carry it in our bones.”

Majelin inclined his head. “Farewell, Demon Lord.” He turned away.

“Majelin.”

He swung back. “Yes?”

“Call me Bane. I
would prefer it.”

“As you wish.”

The archangel vanished, and Bane surveyed the city. Fires burnt in numerous buildings, sending up columns of smoke. A blazing structure collapsed with a crash and gritty rumble, strewing rubble and glass into the street. Crashed vehicles littered the roads amid piles of demon dust. A few people wandered in the devastation, their expressions shocked or vacant, and some called out for friends or relatives. The stench of sulphur mixed with acrid smoke from burning chemicals, and the soft roar of the infernos underscored the survivors’ cries.

Darjahan had been all but destroyed. It would take years, possibly decades, to rebuild it, and he doubted the
people would have the resources to build stealth ships. The demons had effectively ended the human threat to their playground. Only the churches would be bastions of safety and purity. There had never been much hope for this world; now there was none.

Chapter
Fourteen

Arkonen’s Curse

Bane Moved to the gazebo, where Sherinias sat on her couch, gazing into her Eye with a forlorn air. Drevarin reclined on his, looking grim. Mirra jumped up and hurried over to Bane, raking him with worried eyes.

“Are you all right?”

He nodded. “Just some scratches.”

Mirra
hissed and muttered as she examined his wounds, and Drevarin came over to heal them. The young light god struggled a little, even though Bane leashed his power as much as he could. When it was done, Mirra led him to the spare couch and sat beside him. Bane waved an Eye into being and viewed the ruined city. Only a few tall towers still stood, and those had cracked walls and smashed windows. Some leant, on the brink of falling. A number of flying vehicles now rode the skies, searching for survivors, probably, while uniformed men herded dishevelled people to shelters and loaded injured onto air cars to be ferried to hospitals. He wondered what the unbelievers would make of this latest tragedy. It certainly would not infuse them with any faith in Sherinias. Now they knew their world was rife with demons, and there was little they could do about it.

Perhaps they would use their scanners to identify demons and, at the very least,
lessen their ability to torment people. They might invent weapons capable of defeating demons and mount an ongoing resistance, and there was a slight chance more would find faith and be redeemed. More likely, the world would become a battleground for a low-grade guerrilla war with demons and droges. He was sure of who was responsible for this latest disaster, too, but accusing the demon gods would do no good. They would deny it, and he had no proof, even if that would do him any good. All he could do was ensure they left with him.

While demons hated their gods, they were susceptible to their influence.
Doubtless Dramon and Nomard had found the conflict highly entertaining, especially the archangels’ intervention and Bane’s attempt to fight back. They had ended the conflict for now, but had done little by way of harming demons. Bane had banished hundreds and defeated scores, but had only destroyed several dozen. While casting down dark gods was satisfying, fighting demons was futile. There were just too many of them.

Sherinias sniffed and wiped her cheeks, and he wondered where Kayos was; probably avoiding the stricken girl, so she could not cry all over him. Bane was glad Mirra was less inclined to give in to tears.
He noticed the girl shooting him surreptitious glances through her lashes, and knew it boded ill. He had a fair idea of what question was burning in her mind. It only remained to be seen if she found the courage to air it.

Her voice was soft and timid. “My Lord…”

“No, I am not going to restore the cities, Sherinias.”

“It would mean much to me, and -”

“Why not ask your Oracle to do it?”

She pulled a face. “It does not work like that. If I asked it to remake those cities, it would destroy the ruins and create buildings of crystal, alabaster, jade and obsidian. The Oracle cannot replicate man-made structures. They are too complex, but at the same time, too crude. All the people would die, too, in the flux that would ensue.”

“Do you have any idea how tiring it is for me to remake the past?”

She shook her head. “I am sure it saps you, My Lord. Perhaps just a few…
?”

“You are
a creator.”

“Again, it does not work like that. I can only create such things as buildings in a dreaming, although we generally do not. Besides, this domain is already created, so to dream now would, again, kill most of the people.”

Bane sighed. “It is too tiring. I have done enough.”

“You have, My Lord. No one will argue with that. Perhaps just one city?”

Drevarin remarked, “It might convince these people that we are here to help them.”

“
I am sure they blame us for the demons and the destruction,” Bane said. “They will see it as just another show of power.”

“What if you went to the leader first, and extracted some promises in return for the city’s restoration?”

“Then he would see me as a blackmailer. And protestations of innocence about the destruction will just make them roll their eyes and click their tongues in disbelief. I know humans. I am one.”

Sherinias bowed her head. “The
devastation will prevent them from being able to fight demons -”

“I am well aware of that. It is why the bloody demons did it in the first place!”

Mirra’s hand tightened on his, and he flung her an exasperated glance and asked, “What, you too? Really? If I go down there, they will probably try to shoot holes in me.”

Sherinias said, “I will order the Oracle to protect you, My Lord.”

“Enough!”

“What about part of the city
?” Mirra suggested. “Just as much as you can do without it tiring you too much.”

Bane jumped up and swung to face them. “All
three of you now? Those people do not deserve more help than they have already had, and they have had plenty!”

“They did not deserve this. It was not their fault Pretarin was killed and their domain fell into disarray and darkness.”

“No, but even if I restored all the cities – which I will not – it will not change the ultimate fate of this world.”

“Do not do it for them
. Do it for your sister.”

Bane snorted and ran a hand through his hair, feeling beleaguered. “No.”

“It does not use the darkness, does it, My Lord?” Sherinias asked.

“No.”

“It is a gift of your mortality; the ability to command all matter, move mountains, if you wished. Your power is truly a wonder, My Lord.”

“Do not think to appeal to my dark side, My Lady; that is perilous.”

“Dark side?”

“Pride.”

“What about sympathy?” Mirra asked. “You have done similar things before, to save villages, goddesses and people.”

“Not on this scale.”

“It would make Sherinias happy, and give her something pleasant to view in her Eye after we leave.”

“The demons will just destroy it again.”

“Perhaps not.” Mirra rose and took his hand. “They will not know you have left, will they?”

“No.”

She lowered her eyes to his chest. “You know what gives me more joy than anything, and fills your father with pride?”

“Let me guess; restoring cities?”

“Seeing you do good.”

“I have done enough good! I am all tapped out of good! I have done enough good to fill five lifetimes!”

She nodded and looked up at him. “You have.” A smile curved her lips. “Do you remember the day at the lake, when you asked me to marry you?”

“Of course.”

“I think that city would look much better as it was, Bane.”

“Oh, really.” He frowned at her. “Ah. I see. Now you have a request, and you are not joking.”

“Yes. Just as much as does not overly tire you.”

“I should not have made that promise.”

“I have not asked for that much,” she protested.

“If I had known you would be asking me to restore entire cities, I would have restricted you as I did my father.”

“No you would not.”

Bane met Sherinias’ hopeful, pleading eyes, then Drevarin’s sparkling, amused ones. He looked down at Mirra again and cupped her cheek.
“
Whatever brings you joy, I shall endeavour to provide. This is within my power. I do not do this for Sherinias, or those stupid people. I do this for you.”

She blinked, her expression solemn.
Bane swung away, strode out of the gazebo, and Moved.

Mirra turned to Drevarin and Sherinias. “Did I ask too much of him?”

“My Lady,” Drevarin said, “he will only do as much as his love for you requires of him. It would only be too much if he did not love you with all of his heart.”

“He does not need to prove it.”

“He is not. He is doing it because it will bring you joy.”

Sherinias looked vague for a moment. “I have asked the Oracle to shield him. Oddly, it is reluctant, but it will obey.”

Drevarin rose to his feet. “We should go to the ship, so the others can watch this too. It will be spectacular.”

Mirra nodded, still a little stunned. She had not expected Bane to
cite one of his wedding vows as his reason for doing this. Her request had seemed harmless, easily refused, but now she felt as if she had forced him.

Drevarin approached her. “You did not truly understand the import of his wedding vows, did you?”

“Apparently not, although Lyriasharin did explain them somewhat.”

He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Do not make yourself uneasy, My Lady. You specified that he should not make himself overly tired, and so he will not.”

Sherinias bowed her head to Mirra. “Thank you, My Lady.”

Drevarin’s hand tightened, and then they stood in Retribution’s mess hall. The god and goddess went to their couches, and Drevarin beckoned to the groups of people who sat at two tables. “Come, join us. You are about to witness a most amazing event.
Ethra, run and fetch Sarjan and Nikira.”

Mithran rose and came over, his brow furrowed. “What’s happened? Where’s Bane?”

“He is all right,” Mirra assured him.

Drevarin indicated that she should sit beside him, and the others
went to stand behind him as he waved an Eye into being. Sherinias did the same on her couch, her eyes sparkling.

“Demons destroyed many
human cities,” Drevarin explained to Mithran and the others, “but now you are about to witness a true miracle. The Demon Lord will restore Darjahan.”

Mithran’s jaw dropped. “
He can do that?”

“
Oh yes.” The light god indicated the Eye. “Observe.”

Bane
rematerialised in the centre of the city, which, ironically enough, turned out to be the Great Hall’s square. He stood atop the hall once more and viewed the ruins. The demons had done a good job. The hall’s walls were cracked and collapsed in places, parts of its domed roof sagged, and many of its ornamental pillars leant, while others were broken. Even the streets were cratered where air cars had crashed and exploded. The pools of grey sludge had dried to black dirt, and mounds of demon dust blocked roads, especially that from the giants, which formed hillocks of sulphurous soil. The rain had stopped, but the moisture would turn the dust to rock if it remained. Demon dust built mighty walls. He remained visible. Few would spot him on his lofty perch, and he sensed the air shield around him.

M
ore buildings were succumbing to structural weakness as fires ate away at their guts. Even as he watched, a partially collapsed building crumbled in a cloud of dust, ash and sparks. Rescuers poked through the rubble, and weeping groups were herded into flying vehicles to be taken to safety. He wondered how they would react to what was to come. Mirra’s request pleased him, oddly enough. She asked for far too little. He spent too much time saving others, and neglecting his wife. If this made her happy, it pleased him too, and not much did these days. He wanted to make up for the trials and tribulations she had suffered, and a few days of rest did not seem sufficient by his measure.

Gods measured things differently, he was discovering. Perhaps he was more of a god than he had thought, for it took far more to please him.
World-shattering events were insignificant to him, but fulfilling his wife’s wish was important. The demon battle had not taxed him much, and he carried little dark power, which suited him. He only needed enough to return to the light realm when this was done, and he did not want its mockery to be too strong. It sneered, deep in his mind, but he ignored it and closed his eyes.

Millions of tainted souls became visible, and he stretched forth his senses. Never had he tried to encompass so much with his mind
. It seemed to expand, pushing at its established boundaries. He needed more power than he had ever used before, and perhaps exercising his inborn abilities would enhance them. That could only be a good thing. Most of the city seeped into his ken: bricks and mortar, cement, glass and steel, ceramic, wood, tar, and the strange material these people called plastic. Even cloth was known to him, along with carpet, copper wires and coloured paint; everything that had been used to build the city. Once, it had all been the same; the cosmic dust that had formed this world, and stemmed from chaos.

Bane spread his arms and opened his hands, reaching out further, delving into the depths of what was and what had been. Restoring a ship’s corridor had been trifling compared to this. There was no possibility of a mistake in this. His command would reorder the city’s matter into what it had once been, but in order to do that, he had to understand it. Most of it was simpler than the ship’s construction, but vaster, denser, and more inert.
He saw time as just another force, which had been present when this city had been destroyed, and, while he was not actually reversing time, he was looking back into the past to reform it.