Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain

by Southwell, T C

  “Imagine you are a bird?”

  Bane smiled. “Should I flap my arms?”

  “You really are a brick.” Drevarin looked down again as the roof of a building became close enough to make out the speckles in the concrete, took hold of Bane’s arm and Moved. They rematerialised atop the roof, and Bane tugged his tunic straight.

  Drevarin eyed him, clearly puzzled. “This should come to you instinctively. How can it not?”

  “My inborn powers were partly blocked until recently.”

  “And you also know you can simply use the dark power to Move or fly. There is no instigation to change without some form of danger or reward.”

  “My reward will be not making Mirra sick when I carry her.”

  “Is that the only advantage natural flight will give you?”

  “No,” Bane said. “I suppose if I was unable to use the dark power, as has happened in the past, and fell, I would need the ability to fly.”

  “There you go, then.”

  “Except that necessity does not apply right now.”

  Drevarin shook his head. “You do not want to wait until it is a life and death situation, Bane. That will have dire consequences if you fail.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Have you ever dreamt of flying?”

  “No.”

  The light god sighed. “Perhaps you should imagine you cannot use the dark power, then your inborn ability will come to the fore to save you.”

  “I have already been injured falling.”

  “But was that after you gained your full natural powers?” Drevarin asked.

  “No.”

  “Then let us try this.” The light god sprang at Bane, seized his arm and pushed him off the roof. The street rushed up at them, and Drevarin released Bane and vanished. Bane twisted in the air, getting his legs under him, but the speed with which he would hit the ground was too great to survive, and there was not enough time to Gather enough dark power to fly or Move. He knew Drevarin would not let him die, but he had to make himself believe he would if this was going to work. He banished the knowledge of Drevarin’s aid and allowed himself to experience gut-wrenching dread as he fell, an instant from impact. The rune scars under his wrist guards and on his nape tingled, then the street vanished and he stood atop the building once more.

  Drevarin released Bane’s shoulder, frowning. “That was disappointing. I was sure pushing you off a roof would do the trick.”

  “It was certainly a novel idea. Few would have done that.”

  “True. I am a good friend. Pity it did not work, though.”

  Bane rubbed his wrist, where the runes still tingled under the guard.

  “Do the frathess runes pain you?” Drevarin asked.

  “The what?”

  “Frathess: binding. They are what leashed your natural powers.”

  “I knew that, but I did not know what they were called.”

  “Kayos could have told you.”

  “He does not know about them,” Bane said.

  “Of course he does, as I do. Nothing else could bind a mortal god’s innate abilities.”

  “Huh. I wonder why he never told me.”

  Drevarin shrugged. “It would have done no good for you to know what they are called.”

  “True. Well, apparently they still bind some of my powers. And to answer your earlier question, yes, they tingle a little.”

  “Then you almost broke free of them. Next time, you will.”

  “Not today.” Bane surveyed the ruined towers, blockades of flying traffic and the people who emerged from their shelters in babbling crowds. “I think we have caused enough mayhem and frightened the populous sufficiently for one day. We should get back.”

  “Indeed. It will give them food for thought, though.” Drevarin clasped Bane’s shoulder again, and the city vanished.

  Bane gazed across the peaceful vale at Sarrin and Ethra, who picked wild flowers in the distance. Mirra lay beside him on a picnic blanket close to a pretty lake. A natural forest surrounded the tiny bastion of wilderness, one of the few truly wild places left in this domain, unspoilt due to its remote location in a steep-sided crater deep in the hills. Drevarin had brought them a few hours ago, and they had shared a pleasant repast of cheese, wine and fresh bread in the sun. Mithran, Artan and Grem had declined the invitation to join the outing, preferring to spend their time in a pub.

  Since casting out the dark power after the mock battle with Drevarin four days ago, Bane had spent almost all his time with Mirra, picnicking, swimming in the crater’s lake and strolling in the forests. The others sometimes accompanied them, or they visited alehouses as a group and enjoyed many merry hours together. When he and Mirra were alone, they relaxed and talked, enjoying each other’s company, as they had done at their home in Myrthran, and at times he almost forgot they were no longer there.

  There had been no sign of Nomard and Dramon, who, Bane guessed, were lying low, biding their time while they waited to see if he would keep his side of the bargain. Doubtless they amused themselves at the expense of a few humans, but as long as their entertainment did not cause trouble he would leave them alone. He had no wish to get into a confrontation with them and jeopardise the deal.

  The lake shimmered, water fowl called and splashed, insects buzzed and frogs croaked in the rushes. A stream cascaded down one side of the crater with a distant hiss and gurgled over a stony bed into the lake. He and Mirra now resided in a formerly abandoned house on the outskirts of a town several leagues away. He had used the blue power to make it habitable and provide all the necessary comforts, hiding it with illusions of trees and shrubbery. He had done the same to another close by for his father and friends, while the rest of the refugees had found lodgings in the town.

  Everyone enjoyed the return to normality after so much time in the God Realm, aboard ships and in the light realm. Although this world was different from the ones they came from, the discrepancies were barely noticeable in rural areas, aside from the polluted land and the inability to speak to the locals unless Bane was nearby. Drevarin had acquired a flying vehicle for them to use, which he had found abandoned somewhere, Bane surmised. It came in handy for travelling to and from the village to buy food, and Mirra had settled down to domestic bliss again with an air of satisfaction. She needed a break after the hardships even more than he did, and he was glad she had this opportunity.

  Soon after he had chosen the little town as their dwelling place, Bane had strolled around it and created warning wards that signalled his presence to any demons and creatures of darkness that approached it, warning them off. The demons that resided in the town had left shortly after he had taken up residence, making it the most peaceful place in the domain. As yet, the scientists in Bayona had not noticed the town’s tranquillity, and Bane suspected that its residents kept quiet about it to avoid investigation that might bring an end to their peace. A few droges remained, but he was disinclined to take up the power again to rescind their forms when he encountered them, and they did nothing to attract his attention. Evidently word of his dislike for them had spread and, after his battle with the demons in the torture chamber, every droge and demon knew that a new dark god ruled the domain.

  Tomorrow, he would Gather enough power to visit Kayos, Drevarin and Sherinias aboard Retribution, where they once again resided in the mess hall. Perhaps Mirra, Mithran and Grem would accompany him.

  Bane made the most of the precious leisure time. In a few more days he would create the wards, and then they would continue their journey to Ashynaria’s domain. He wondered how many more adversities he would have to face before they reached it, hoping for none but expecting some. He had had more than enough of fighting dark gods and their minions, and looked forward to spending a few relaxing days in Drevarin’s domain. Although Sherinias’ world was bearable now, and safe, it lacked the wild beauty of a domain like Myrthran. Its few remaining attractions would not survive for much longer, and, without some miraculous
intervention, it was doomed to fall to the darkness. For now, he was just glad of the chance to rest, even in a dark domain.

  ***

  About the Author

  T. C. Southwell was born in Sri Lanka and her family moved to the Seychelles when she was a baby. She spent her formative years exploring the islands – mostly alone. Naturally, her imagination flourished and she developed a keen love of other worlds. The family travelled through Europe and Africa and, after the death of her father, settled in South Africa. T. C. Southwell has written over thirty novels and five screenplays. Her hobbies include motorcycling, horse riding and art.

  All illustrations and cover designs by the author.

  Visit the Demon Lord Blog: http://www.demon-lord-book.blogspot.com

  Email the author: demonlord07@hotmail.com

  Acknowledgements

  Mike Baum and Janet Longman, former employers, for their support, encouragement, and help. My mother, without whose financial support I could not have dedicated myself to writing for ten years. Isabel Cooke, former agent, whose encouragement and enthusiasm led to many more books being written, including this one. Suzanne Stephan, former agent, who has helped me so much over the past six years, and Vanessa Finaughty, good friend and business partner, for her support, encouragement and editing skills.