Demon Lord IV - Lord of Shadows

by T C Southwell

  "Be not afraid. I bring you a warning, a message from the great god Kayos. A dark god is amongst you, who saved you, and was hurt. Vorkon seeks him, and Kayos will save him. Flee this place now, hide yourselves well. Be not here when Vorkon rises, for he will slay you. Flee!"

  The angel vanished, and after a moment of stunned silence, the people began to babble again in excitement and fear, turning to each other to share their wonder. Shevra glanced at the doctor, who stood a few paces from the tent. He looked at her, his expression dumbfounded. She flung him a triumphant smile and ducked back into the tent. Moments later he entered it, hurrying to the cot to stare down at Bane.

  "Him? She was talking about him?"

  "Of course," Shevra said.

  "But he is just a human being."

  "A mortal god."

  "That is not possible."

  She lifted Bane's head and trickled the medicine between his lips, but most of it ran out again. The doctor ran a hand through his hair.

  "Perhaps you should not give him that."

  "Why not?"

  "If he's a god... who knows?"

  "He's still a man, as you said, no different from you. Well, perhaps a little different."

  The doctor looked flummoxed. "But how could a god... He was hit on the head with a stone!"

  "He wasn't looking, nor was he expecting to be attacked by the people he had just saved." She lowered Bane's head onto the pillow. "He is a god. Look at him."

  "All right, I believe you. But you should go now, with the others."

  She shook her head. "I'm not leaving him."

  "You heard what that..."

  "Angel."

  "Yes, she said we must flee."

  "And I'm sure she meant it, so you should go. But I'm staying here. Another god is coming to save him, so he can save me too."

  The doctor hesitated, irresolute. "Then I'm staying too, he's my patient."

  "A minute ago you told me he was dying and walked off."

  "He is."

  Shevra frowned. "He won't. I have a right to stay. I prayed to him and he came. I've stayed with him from the moment he was hurt, and protected him from the soldiers. You did nothing."

  "There was nothing I could do. If there had been, I would have done it."

  "So what use are you?"

  "I might be able to help."

  "A god? I doubt that."

  He sat on the edge of the cot, staring at Bane. "No one has ever seen a mortal god, or any other for that matter. We take so much on faith... I've heard that Drayshina sometimes visits churches, but I never really believed it. I thought it was just visions, superstitions. Now I see one, and he's just a man. You have to admit, it's hard to believe."

  "He destroyed the foul horde. Believe me, he's not just a man."

  "But he is, physically, or he appears to be. And even if this other god can save him, he might need tending until he's fully recovered."

  "I can tend to him."

  The doctor glanced around, listening to the silence outside. "Everyone has gone."

  "Only a fool would ignore the warning of an angel."

  "Like us."

  "Yes."

  Shevra tensed as she sensed a power enter the tent. The air seemed to thrum with it, and shifting silvery sparkles danced around them. The warm, benign power filled her with joy and awe. Blue fire flared around Bane, and he rose from the cot as if someone had scooped him up in their arms. Fearing that he would be lost to her, she cried out and grabbed his hand. The doctor lunged for her and caught hold of her shawl, then a blinding white light and tingling warmth engulfed them.

  Shevra sprawled on a cold stone floor, and levered herself up, blinking spots from her eyes. Nearby, the doctor was similarly occupied, looking dazed and confused. A cry of joy made her turn. A girl in a white gown ran to kneel beside a cot where Bane lay, taking his limp hand and pressing it to her tear-stained cheek. Shevra glanced around at a bare cell lighted by a brilliant, tiny white flame that hovered near the ceiling. A window let in dull red light, and a crude table and chair stood next to the wall. A grey-clad man sat beside Bane, and Shevra stared at his strange, shimmering clothes and silver eyes.

  "A Grey God," she whispered.

  The god frowned at her. "Why is it that Bane collects so many admirers?"

  The doctor gaped at him, dumbstruck.

  Shevra gulped. "Are you Kayos?"

  "Yes. Now be quiet, I must heal him."

  The doctor struggled to his feet. "He has a depressed skull fracture."

  Kayos shot him a scathing look. "It does not matter what it is called."

  "But there may be bleeding on the brain, and swelling."

  Shevra rose and grabbed his arm, dragging him away. "Leave him be, he knows what he's doing."

  "Yes, of course." He still looked dazed. "He's a real god, isn't he?"

  "They both are, but Kayos isn't mortal."

  Kayos leant over Bane and placed his hands on the swelling, closing his eyes. Blue fire flared where his hands touched the Demon Lord, and Shevra held her breath as a soft golden glow appeared under his palms, growing brighter. It sank into Bane's head, then a flare of blue pushed Kayos' hands back, holding the golden glow at bay. The girl who held Bane's hand bit her lip, staring down at him with anguished eyes. Kayos frowned, and the golden light brightened further.

  Patrin whispered, "What's he doing?"

  "Healing him."

  "I know that. But what's causing the blue light?"

  "Kayos is a light god, Bane is dark. The two powers are incompatible."

  "Why would a -"

  Shevra raised a finger to her lips. "Hush."

  Kayos pressed his hands to Bane's temple. The golden light was now deep under Bane's skin, rimmed with blue fire. Clearly Kayos was struggling, forcing back the dark power that lurked just under Bane's skin, but slowly he was succeeding. After several more minutes, he raised his hands and sat back to study his handiwork. The swelling and cut had vanished.

  Patrin muttered, "That's incredible."

  The girl stroked Bane's hair, and Shevra noticed the two older men, one standing against the wall, frowning, then other kneeling beside the cot.

  Kayos turned to her. "Who are you?"

  Shevra knelt. "Shevra, Great One. A fire dancer."

  Patrin stared down at her, then followed her example and fell to one knee, bowing his head. "I'm Patrin, a doctor. I was tending to... your friend."

  "A doctor," Kayos mused. "You could not have helped him."

  "I tried, My Lord."

  Kayos looked down at Bane. "He went there to help your people, against his very nature. Who called him?"

  "I did, My Lord," Sherva admitted.

  "How did you learn his name?"

  "He told me, after he saved the people of my village."

  Kayos sighed. "Syrin's meddling again. If he does not awaken soon, it will jeopardise all our plans. Foolish child."

  Vorkon glared around at the encampment. His entourage of demons and black mages surrounded him, the latter still looking queasy from their Move. He spied the canvas tent that he had seen in the Eye, and strode over to it, burning it away with a blast of fire. His gaze swept the empty cot, which still bore the indentation of Bane's body.

  "He was here!"

  The mages retreated from his ire. "Perhaps he recovered, My Lord?"

  "No. His injury was dire. His mortal body has failed him yet again. I saw him in the Eye, only a moment ago, unconscious. In the time that it took to dismiss the Eye and come here, he could not have recovered and Moved." He paused, considering. "Someone took him, and it could only have been the light god, which means that he is now in one of the temples, and vulnerable."

  He turned to the group of warlocks. "Each of you will take a slave and go to a temple. Send the slave to snuff out the white fire. Be cautious. Do not alert the light god to your presence, and do not confront him. He can kill you. He will sense that you have snuffed out the white flame, and flee, but once a
ll the temples are powerless, he will have nowhere to run."

  "But what if the tar'merin has recovered? Since they are in league, the light god will heal him."

  "That is why we must be swift." Vorkon turned to a group of earth demons. "Bring me eight humans."

  Five demons sank into the ground, and the mages glanced at each other with ill-concealed dismay. Vorkon knew from experience that Moving was bad enough when solo, but taking another person would require twice as much power and cause twice as much illness. Each of the mages was doubtless hoping that one of the others would have the courage to point this out to him, and that he would come up with a different plan, but none dared, and he had no other plan to offer. He had no sympathy for them. They were his servants and would do as he commanded, or die.

  Now he regretted that he had been so engrossed in Drayshina's torture when he had sensed the use of the dark power that he had not immediately sought its source. Had he done so, he would have reached the tar'merin before the light god could, and slain him. His failure rankled, and he longed to lash out at someone. Slaying his minions would gain him nothing, however, so he leashed his anger, saving it for the day when he would find the traitor and vent it upon him. He would pay for all the trouble that he had caused.

  The light god was bold indeed to snatch the tar'merin from under Vorkon's nose, and had put himself in grave danger. Vorkon knew little about light gods. His education had been solely in the dark arts, but he suspected, from the light god's odd garb, that he was one of the elder gods. Capturing him would be a great achievement, and he looked forward to it.

  The demons returned with eight screaming, struggling people, and Vorkon sent a command rune into each one, silencing them. Once the shadow rune had entered their minds, they would obey any command the mages gave them.

  Kayos paced around, stopping to gaze down at Bane, then pace again. Shevra watched his liquid movements. The aura of power that surrounded him fascinated her. She knew the legend of the Grey Gods, and that he had immense power, but could not understand his urgency for Bane to wake. Surely they were safe from Vorkon here, on hallowed ground? Kayos did not seem to think so, however, and that worried her. The fair-haired girl sat beside Bane and stroked his cheek, looking despondent. The Grey God stopped and waved a hand, and a flat, glowing oval object shimmered into being before him. Shevra crept closer to peer at it. It showed only swirling darkness, and Kayos dismissed it with a curt gesture.

  "Vorkon blocks my Eye, but he will seek me all the more now. He will try to slay Bane before he wakes, and capture me."

  "Surely we're safe here, Lord?" Shevra asked.

  He turned to her. "Only for as long as it remains hallowed. If he sends a mortal to snuff out the white flame, we will be in danger."

  "A black mage?"

  "No, one such could not approach the flame. It would strike him down. But if he brings another..."

  "Then we must protect it."

  The warrior who leant against the wall straightened. "I'll do it."

  Kayos nodded. "The mortal will be under a geas. You will have to kill him. Or her."

  "I understand."

  "I'll help you," Patrin volunteered. "I'll find a weapon."

  "You will not find any swords here," Kayos said.

  "I'll find something." The warrior headed for the door.

  Kayos sighed and rubbed his brow. "You had better tell the priestesses what has happened, perhaps they can help. And about me, they are unaware of my presence."

  "Yes, My Lord."

  The warrior slipped out, and Kayos sat beside Bane, leaning forward to grip his collar and shake him. "Wake up, Bane."

  Shevra crept closer and knelt beside the cot, gazing at Bane's peaceful face. "Do our lives depend only upon him, My Lord?"

  "This entire domain does."

  "But you -"

  "I cannot fight a dark god."

  Despite the room's warmth, Shevra pulled her shawl tighter, suppressing a shiver. "It's my fault that he was struck down. I called upon him for help, but I didn't intend for him to be hurt."

  "Do not blame yourself, child."

  "But if I hadn't prayed to him..."

  "You would be dead, along with all those who were with you."

  Her eyes filled with tears. "I would give my life gladly, Lord, to undo what has happened."

  "No one can undo the past, and you did nothing wrong. It was an unfortunate accident. A twist of fate, nothing more."

  "Why did he save us, Lord?"

  "He fights for the light, even though his power is dark."

  "Then he'll free us from the darkness that swallows our land, and make the sun shine again? I've never seen the sun, Lord."

  "When he wakes up, he will, and one day you shall see it, child." His eyes flicked over her. "Go and ask for food and a bath, make sure Patrin gets what he needs as well."

  Tygon woke with a snort, opening his eyes. He lay on the frozen ground, his hands and feet numb, his teeth chattering. The last thing he remembered was raising the ward, and he realised that he must have passed out again from exhaustion. Why had Bane not dragged him into the shelter and kept him warm as he had done before? Dread shivered his insides as he struggled to sit up, his stiff limbs protesting.

  The ward towered over him, two hundred feet high, or a hundred and ninety at least, since it would have settled back a bit. He remembered his triumph as it had risen the last few feet, just before he had blacked out. The rim of blue fire blazed, holding the ward aloft, as it would until it was activated. He rolled over and got to his hands and knees, his limbs shaking with weakness and cold. Crawling into the lee of the wall, he fumbled in the pack for some water. Bane was nowhere to be seen, and cold dread tightened on his heart. Had Bane abandoned him, or left to do something else and fallen foul of Vorkon?

  Sipping the freezing water, he gazed around, his heart pounding. A glance at the glowing clouds found them to be brightest just above the horizon, so the sun was on its way down. He had been unconscious for only a few hours. He shivered. The prospect of spending a night alone in the pitch black cold sent chills through him. He wanted to scream for help, but no one would hear him. How would he survive the night, with nothing to warm him? There was no fire, and no wood to make one.

  Perhaps he could warm the stone as Bane had done. He had not tried it before. Laying his hand on the rock, he channelled the blue power into it, letting it flow out of him with as little effort as possible, since he was already so tired. Several minutes passed with no warmth from the stone, then, as he was about to give up, he detected the faintest rise in temperature. It was working, but with far more effort on his part than it had taken on Bane's. Perhaps too much. He needed warmth, though. Without it he would die.

  Shrea looked up from the fire that she had built in the cave, glad that she had brought oil soaked wood in anticipation of her need for warmth when she had learnt of her destination. The sixth ward was chiselled into the cave wall a few paces away, blue powder packed into its grooves, ready for activation. The ward was linked to a smooth grey stone at the bottom of the well of water at the back of the cave, warmed by the heat of the earth and reeking of sulphur. The stone would have to be shattered before the ward could be broken, if anyone ever tried. First, however, they would have to retrieve the stone, and the well appeared to be deep. Now she waited, tending her fire and heating tea from her supplies. Only when the seventh ward had been activated could she activate the sixth.

  The sound that had made her look up came again. A scuffling and scraping, like rocks breaking and falling. She stood up, pulling her coat around her and glancing at the ward. Rocks did occasionally break off the mountain and fall of their own accord, loosened by the changes in temperature and the ceaseless, eroding wind that whistled through the crags. It could also be something or someone climbing the steep slopes, however. Perhaps a mountain goat, if she was lucky, but if it was one of Vorkon's minions, he must not discover the ward. It seemed unlikely that one such would be out he
re on this remote, bleak mountain, but she could not afford to take any chances.

  Vorkon would have instructed his minions to seek out blue mages, and perhaps one had sensed her presence. Her powers of illusion were weak, but sufficient to cover the ward with a glamour. She whispered the spell, accompanied by the complex, fluid hand movements that aided its casting. The glamour formed, covering the ward with an illusion of stone. Satisfied that it was hidden, she crept to the cave entrance and peered out into the freezing wind and sleeting black snow.

  Further down the slope, a huge, earthen form moved across the rocks, its six long arms gripping the crags and hauling it up as it climbed towards the cave. She drew back with a gasp, her breath steaming in the cold air. Terror chilled her heart. It was heading straight for the cave, and there was nowhere to hide within it. If it trapped her here, she stood little chance against it, but outside she might have a slight hope of eluding it, or perhaps defeating it, although she was already tired.

  If she fled, she would also draw it away from the ward, which was vital. The prospect of an earth demon chasing her down the treacherous slope made her heart pound, and she considered praying for help. The Demon Lord could destroy it in a moment, but she did not want to summon him unless it was absolutely necessary. At least she could if she had to, and that thought calmed her. Having a dark god as an ally was special indeed.

  Her mind made up, she went back and stamped out the fire, pushed her bag of supplies into a cranny, then returned to the entrance. The demon was making good progress. What was it doing way out here? Perhaps it was not one of Vorkon's, in which case it might not even attack her. But that seemed doubtful.

  As far a she knew, demons did not spend time in the wilderness for amusement; they either sported in the cities and towns, or stayed in the Darkworld. There was nothing to amuse them out here. Even if it was Vorkon's, it might be looking for Bane, not blue mages. Bolstered by this hope, she slipped out into the frigid wind and crept downwards, angling away from the demon. She moved as quietly as she could, keeping any available crags between herself and it.