Chapter Five
Earth Demon
In the pale, watery light of another gloomy dawn, the army broke camp. Mirra surveyed the abbey’s ruins as she walked past with Benton, glad she now wore a healer’s gown again. Bane rode far ahead on the dragon, a small figure in the distance, but daunting even so. Men came to her for healing, displaying burns and scrapes they had received while demolishing the abbey. Every time she healed someone, her power dwindled, and there was no sun to renew it, but she could not refuse.
A hot, humid day developed, dull but sweaty. By the afternoon, Mirra longed to bathe in a cool stream or pool. She walked on the outskirts of the armed horde in the hopes of catching a breeze that might come by. Benton accompanied her, for the army had no formation or ranks. It straggled along in clusters of gossiping men, trolls, rock howlers and goblins, each speaking their own tongue.
Bane’s was the only solitary figure, far ahead atop the dragon. Swathes of close-cropped lawn bordered the road, which cut through a picturesque forest of tall ghost wood trees whose striped grey bark and pale leaves had earned them their name. Blue and white fen flowers grew amongst the golden leaves that carpeted the forest floor, along with patches of moss and ferns. Since it was easier to walk on the road and verge than amongst the trees, the army had become drawn out into a column that spanned about five leagues.
A blackened patch came into view in the grass ahead, and Mirra wondered what had caused it. Perhaps someone had camped there, but it was too big for a campfire site, and besides, it was out in the open. Benton saw it and called out to another soldier, pointing. Mirra was perplexed, for it seemed to be growing. She stopped, her blood chilling.
A brown form rose from the blackened area, twisting and expanding. It developed a head, and six long arms. Benton shouted to his companions, then he was beside her, dragging her away. Mirra needed no urging. She ran as fast as she could, her breath catching. The earth demon shook free of the soil and acquired legs, coming after them. Benton yelled and tugged at her arm, but she could run no faster. Men scattered and fled into the forest, shouting. It ignored them, intent on its prey.
Mirra risked a peek back, and found the demon gaining. Her throat closed, which robbed her of much-needed air and weakened her already rubbery legs. Benton raced wild-eyed beside her, pulling her along, and she was surprised he had not abandoned her. The demon closed the gap. Its long legs swallowed the ground in great strides, and the thudding footfalls hammered her heart. Something struck her in the back, and she sprawled, her arm torn from Benton’s grip. She cried out and rolled over as the monstrosity loomed over her.
Like the fire demon, it radiated the same evil power Bane used. The waves of foul magic made her gut clench, as did its gruesome mud visage. Obsidian eyes glittered, and mud-muscles rippled on its arms and chest. One of its arms descended with a sickening thud, and Mirra’s leg snapped like a rotten twig. She tried to scramble to her feet as the bone knitted, but another fist fell, smashing her pelvis. She was paralysed as the healing took place, and yet another blow struck her belly. Her skin shimmered as her power rushed to repair pulped organs, weakening her.
A movement caught her eye, and she cried out as Benton rammed his sword into the demon’s side. A negligent flick of the fiend’s fist sent him crashing onto the grass, where he lay still.
As the demon swung back to her, Mirra raised her arms in a futile bid to defend herself. Terror coursed through her in a flood of icy realisation that she was moments from death. Her shocked mind scrambled for a means of survival, and a name sprang to her lips in a despairing cry.
“Bane!”
Mirra screamed as the demon’s fist descended again, her cry cut off in a grunt as the air was pulverised from her. Her ribcage snapped, and she thought her heart would be crushed. Her breath stopped as her power rushed to heal the damage, and her vision grew dim. She drew a shallow breath as her lungs healed, and the demon raised its fists.
A dark figure appeared beside the fiend. The Demon Lord raised an arm, and a bolt of black fire spat from his fingers to strike the demon. As it staggered sideways, Bane stepped in front of it.
“Do not tell me, Yalnebar, let me guess,” he said with profound scorn. “My father sent you to kill the healer.”
The earth demon shook its head as if to clear it, bits of mud crumbling from its chest. It placed a hand on the wound and straightened. “That is right, Bane.” It spoke in a deep, gritty voice.
“We had an agreement. Since when does my father break his word? I told him I would kill her when I found another, and still he sends you, cloaked against my sight.”
Yalnebar shook its head. “He said she had to die; that she is dangerous.”
Bane snorted, his dark eyes glaring. “A mere human girl? Next he will be jumping at shadows.”
“Do not insult the Black Lord,” the demon rumbled.
“Tell him to stop sending flunkies. He knows none of you are a match for me. Mealle has already tried, and Yangarra learnt the hard way. If he wants the girl killed, he must give me a better reason than that he thinks she is dangerous. I do not find her dangerous. I find her amusing, so why should I kill her now? I intend to send her below, as a gift for him.”
“You set yourself against the Black Lord, Bane, you will pay.”
The Demon Lord’s lip curled. “I do his dirty work. I am breaking the wards to set him free. I am not setting myself against my father. I have agreed to kill her, but when I choose!” Yalnebar opened its cavernous mouth to answer, and Bane made a vicious gesture. “Begone!”
The demon collapsed into a pile of earth, and Bane turned to Mirra as the blackness drained from his eyes, leaving them bloodshot again. His pallor had increased, and lines of anger bracketed his mouth and furrowed his brow.
“I take it you will live?”
Mirra nodded, her breath catching.
Bane’s eyes flicked away. “I doubt the same can be said for your gallant knight.”
Mirra turned, remembering Benton’s heroic assault. She struggled to her feet, weakened by the shock of her injuries and the sudden draining of her power to heal them. As she tottered over to the soldier’s crumpled form, she prayed that he still lived.
Bane watched her with a cynical smile. “I am amazed that he thought he could fight a demon. He was either very brave, or very stupid. I opt for stupid. No one is that brave.”
Mirra knelt and laid her hands on Benton. Her power flowed weakly, for the demon’s attack had all but drained her of that which the golden pearl had bestowed. Benton had several broken ribs and a shattered arm, as well as deep bruising that would have killed him without her help. It took several minutes before he groaned and opened his eyes. Seeing Bane standing over him, he scrambled away and lurched to his feet, retreating, rather unsteadily, to a safe distance.
Bane snorted. “Is it not amazing how they actually think they are safe at a distance?” He shook his head. “What fools.”
Mirra stood up, swaying. “Thank you for saving me again.”
He glared at her. “Had you not called, I would have been spared the trouble. I begin to wonder if you are worth it, girl. My father will be angry. Seeing you dragged from the cesspit was amusing, but perhaps I should find other diversions. You should be glad if I let you die. I only keep you alive to watch you suffer.”
She bowed her head. “I do not want to die.”
“All the more reason to kill you. Your nuisance value is outweighing your amusing abilities.” He paused. “And you have given me a headache.” She touched his arm, flinching at the evil within him, and he jerked away. “Do not touch me! You take far too many liberties.”
“I can help you. I can stop the pain.”
“I do not need your damned help!” He strode away, yelling for Mord.
That evening, Mord brought Mirra to Bane’s tent as usual, and she settled on the floor. Bane studied a map, and barely acknowledged her presence. She gazed at him, fascinated by the fierce perfection of his profil
e and the way his eyes shone like jewels in the lamplight.
He looked at her, his brows gathering. “What are you staring at?”
She lowered her eyes. “I am sorry.”
“I think the next demon can have you. You are starting to annoy me.”
“No! Please, Bane?”
He put aside the map with a sigh. “Why did you call out to me today?”
“Because I knew you could help me.”
“What made you think I would?”
She smiled. “You did before.”
“You must be the stupidest female in the world. You actually think you can predict me? Mostly I was annoyed at that damned Yalnebar for sneaking out of the Underworld, so well cloaked I did not sense him. Mealle, I perceived, but the earth demon was well concealed. My father had a hand in it.”
“Will your father be angry?”
Bane gave a bark of laughter. “He will be livid. But, you see, there is little he can do about it, and I am interested to see how far he will go with this. He needs me to break the wards. If I do not, he will stay down there forever.” His eyes glinted. “And he has another problem, too. In order for me to break the wards, he had to make me as powerful as he is. But I do not wish to disobey him. I must find out what the problem is, tonight.”
Mirra nodded, then her eyes widened when he drew his dagger and leant closer. She flinched as he sliced her cheek, a drop of blood escaping before the cut healed.
He smiled. “I thought so. Your powers are waning. You have not seen the sun for a while, have you? Yet you still heal those stupid men, and soon you will have nothing left for yourself.”
“I must help them while I can. It is my calling.”
“How idiotic. And when your powers are gone? What then?”
“Then I will suffer and die, just like them.”
His smile broadened. “Good. Perhaps you will be more amusing then.”
“Then you will not kill me?”
“You should be begging for death, girl. When your powers are gone, you will be at my mercy, and I have none.”
She shook her head. “I think you do.”
“You are wrong,” he retorted, his smile vanishing. “Next you will be telling me that you like me.”
“I do. I want to help you, Bane. You suffer so. No one should suffer like that.” She spoke with soft sincerity.
Bane frowned. “After all I have done to you? How can you like someone who revels in your suffering? And I do, you know. Your stupidity amazes me. You may even become boring. Beware that day, for then I shall enjoy watching the next demon kill you. Already you are pathetic and repulsive, a weak mewling thing.” He turned back to the map, unrolling it again, and Mirra lay down.
Demon Lord Page 22