Bane gazed up at the ward, searching for traps. There seemed to be none, but he hunted for them all the same. The ward hung innocuously under the cave roof, its solid symbol carved into the rock above it. He frowned, unable to find a trap. Surely the mage who had set it had not relied solely upon the dragon to protect it? The beast was daunting, but not enough to deter him. He reached up and ran a hand through the blue fire, which brightened at his proximity and stung his fingers, but he was still unable to sense the trap.
Of course, the best traps were undetectable, like the one that had injured him at the standing stones, and that experience made him wary. Each ward was stronger than the last, and each trap had proven more dangerous. Since the wards had to be broken in the opposite order of their creation, it stood to reason that this one would be worse than the last. Slipping a little on the golden-copper scales that littered the floor, he wandered about, searching the walls, but still found nothing.
Annoyed, he stopped under the glowing blue pentagram again. He would just have to take the risk, since the ward had to be broken, whether or not he could find the trap. His frown deepened. Had the healer not been there to rub green gel into the wounds on his back, he might have bled to death at the standing stones. He shrugged it off, telling himself that he would have managed somehow. This time he was alone, however, with no help at hand should he be injured. Angrily he thrust the thought aside. He did not need anyone’s help, least of all the simpering witch’s.
Senses alert, he raised his hand and summoned his power. It surged through him with the usual ill feeling as he drew it from his flesh and bones, channelling it into his hand. Focussing on the ward, he unleashed it in a concentrated stream that struck the glowing lines and engulfed them in a shadowy fist. The ward shimmered, its lines wavering and pulsing.
The ward’s strength surprised Bane, and he was forced to increase his power several times before it dimmed under the barrage. The glowing lines weakened and separated, then drew back together with amazing tenacity. It shattered with a brilliant blue flash and a hissing crack, its light vanishing in a shower of bright sparkles and fading gleams. Bane paused, blinking spots from his eyes as he waited for the trap to reveal itself. The cave remained still, except for the steady drip of water further in.
Bane raised his arm again and smote the carved pentagram with a burst of black power. The symbol shattered, showering him with bits of rock and dust, then a deep rumble echoed deep within the cave. He turned to run as the floor shuddered, but within three strides he realised he would not make it to the entrance. The cave’s roof crazed with cracks that shot through the stone, spraying dust and splinters, accompanied by sharp reports. The giant rocks above him hung poised for an instant before they plunged downward with a mighty roar. Bane flung up his arms and shouted a single word of power. The dark magic surged through him as the rocks hammered him to the floor.
Demon Lord Page 55