Demon Lord V - God Realm

by T C Southwell

  "Then I shall release you."

  "No! Let me have this, I beg you!"

  "No."

  The ghoul gave a choked cry and lunged at Bane, its hands closing around his throat. Bane jerked up his head and unleashed the force within him. The ghoul flew backwards several yards, to bounce on the springy ground. The brooding sentience around Bane intensified and became hostile, angered by his mistreatment of what was its parent and its child. Bane was not even certain that the two were entirely separate. The ghoul rose to its feet and gave a cry of horror, staring at its hands. They were turning grey and gnarled, the droge form's substance reverting as the dark power seeped out of the former black mage.

  It ran back to Bane and knelt once more in his blood, scooped it up and smeared itself with it, absorbing the dark power. Its droge body reformed, and Bane reached out with his will and touched his surroundings. Sensing his power, the grey land closed around him like a giant fist, seeking to crush him. The walls sank back into the ground, and Bane held it at bay with an effort, darkness nibbling at his mind. He commanded the substance that held him, and it fell away, allowing him to slump forward. He clasped one wrist with a shaking hand, trying to stop the bleeding, which had slowed to an ooze. The ghoul crawled to him and tried to throttle him again. Bane lacked the strength to fight it, and struggled to retain his consciousness as a dark abyss opened in his mind.

  "Burn," he whispered.

  "No!"

  The ghoul's almost human face twisted with despair, and then it screamed as flames engulfed it. They spread from Bane in a fiery circle, consuming the entity within the ground. It writhed as a molten ring scorched through it and raced away into the distance, killing all that it touched, and in its wake the ground turned to stone. Bane rolled onto his back and gasped, his skin sheened with sweat. Turning his head, he gazed with dull eyes at the ancient grey skeleton, its dry bones crumbling to dust, that lay beside him. Bane closed his eyes and allowed the dark abyss to claim him.

  Ethra was almost on the bottom step when the land beneath it turned molten in a flash of flame. The intense heat made her retreat upwards a few steps, where she stopped to stare down. The fire vanished into the wall beneath the steps, to her relief. In its wake, the ground sizzled and smoked, but the heat dissipated rapidly. Ethra wondered if this was a natural phenomenon, or something else. If it was natural, would there be another one and how long before it came? Artan arrived beside her and studied the smoking ground, casting her a look of disbelief.

  "You intend to go down there?"

  "Yes."

  "It's too dangerous. Be sensible."

  She turned to glare at him. "How long do you think we'll survive in here without his help? Without him, we would all have perished in that dark place already. He said he would find another world for us to live in."

  "If he isn't already dead, he soon will be."

  "You don't know that."

  "I'd put money on it."

  She started down the last few steps. "I didn't come this far to give up now."

  Artan glanced back at Sarrin, who looked pale and tired. The old priestess gazed across the grey landscape, which the seething glow above tinged red.

  "She is right."

  "About what?"

  "If we do not find him, we are doomed."

  "The last time I saw him, he wasn't in any shape to help us. After that fall, do you think he's even going to be alive?"

  Sarrin sighed and shrugged. "Gods are amazing beings. If he is alive, he is our best hope."

  Artan snorted, then hastened after Ethra, catching up as she was about to step off the last stair. The stone was hot, but not enough to burn the soles of her shoes, and it made soft clicking, ticking sounds as it cooled. When the rest of the group joined her, she set off away from the cliff. Artan fell into step beside her.

  "How do you intend to find him? This place looks vast, and he could be anywhere in it."

  "Then I'll just keep looking."

  "We'll run out of food and water and starve."

  She shot him a scathing look. "Was there food up there?"

  "We might have found some."

  Ethra snorted. "I think we have just as much chance of finding food here as we did there."

  "And if you're wrong we all die."

  "I said I would go on alone. It was your decision to come with me."

  "This is folly."

  "So you keep saying."

  A shout from behind made Ethra swing around. Sarrin pointed off to the right, her face alight with hope.

  "Look!" she cried again. "It is him!"

  A glimmer of pearly light shone like a beacon in the distance, and Ethra ran towards it with a glad cry. The rocky terrain became more treacherous as she neared the light source, forcing her to slow to a trot lest she twist an ankle in its convolutions. It seemed to take an age to reach him, and when she did, her heart sank. Bane lay on his side in a pool of blood, his face deathly pale. She skirted the blood and knelt beside him as Artan panted up, his expression becoming despairing as he gazed down at Bane.

  "Is he dead?"

  She touched his neck, finding a weak pulse. "No."

  Artan squatted beside her, and, with his help, she rolled Bane onto his back. His wrists were slashed, and oozed blood. Ethra clasped one to stem the flow, and her stomach heaved, forcing her to release him and recoil.

  "What is it?" Artan demanded.

  "To touch him sickens me."

  Sarrin stumbled to a halt beside them, the two soldiers helping her. "It is his blood. Do not touch it."

  "But he's bleeding."

  "I can see that." Sarrin knelt and dug in her pack for a spare robe, handing it to Artan. "Tear strips off this. We will use them to bind his wounds."

  Artan snatched the robe and ripped it up, handing the strips to Sarrin and Ethra. They wound the cloth around Bane's wrists, avoiding contact with his blood, and pulled it tight. The fabric turned red, and they continued to bind the wounds until it stopped. Sarrin sat back, her face grey with fatigue, and brushed a straggle of hair from her brow. Ethra placed her fingers on Bane's neck again to assure herself that he still lived, then looked at Sarrin.

  "Why did touching his blood make me ill?"

  "I think it is full of dark power. I know nothing about mortal dark gods, but I would imagine that this is not normal. I think the shackles have forced the power into his blood, which is why it is making him so sick."

  Ethra glanced at the pool of blood. "Then he has purged some of it at least."

  "Probably not enough to do much good."

  "Do you think he cut himself to let out the evil?"

  "No. I would imagine it would take several decades of regular bloodletting before his power was significantly reduced. Perhaps he sought to end his suffering."

  Artan frowned. "If so, he won't be happy when he wakes."

  "He could not have made those cuts, he has no weapon," Ethra pointed out.

  "Perhaps he found something sharp."

  "There's nothing here, except that." Ethra nodded at the crumbling bones.

  Artan glanced around. "What strikes me about this place is its emptiness, yet where he lies there's a skeleton. Odd, don't you think?"

  "It's ancient."

  "Not much in this place is what it seems."

  Ethra snorted. "So you think he was attacked by a skeleton?"

  "Perhaps it wasn't a skeleton when it attacked him."

  "Oh, so what was it then?"

  Sarrin held up her hands. "Shall we make camp and have some food? I am hungry."

  "Yes." Artan rose and strode over to the pack he had dumped when they had arrived, untying the bundle of wood. The men set up camp, and Artan returned to drag Bane away from the blood, laying him beside the fire. Sarrin glanced around at the red-tinged gloom and shivered, rubbing her arms.

  "This place is creepy."

  Ethra nodded. "I noticed it too, but whatever was here is gone now."

  "I think he fought a battle an
d destroyed something here."

  "The fire we saw?"

  Sarrin nodded. "Perhaps Artan was not so wrong to suggest that the bones might have been something dangerous before Bane destroyed whatever it was."

  Ethra squatted by the fire and dug some food out of the packs, handing it out. "How long do you think it will be before he wakes?"

  Sarrin gazed at Bane. "I am not certain, but probably a while. It would be better if he could eat something. What made you change your mind about him?"

  "He told me about his wife."

  "And you are convinced it was not a lie?"

  "He was delirious at the time."

  Sarrin smiled. "So, we have a legend in our midst."

  Kayos waded through an area of dense shadow, a brilliant blue nimbus surrounding him. The Hound was close behind him now, invisible in the darkness. His recent descent had drained much of his power, and there was no light here to draw upon to replenish it. The loss was not yet dangerous, but it weakened him. He sensed something other than the Hound in the darkness, approaching him swiftly from the side. Turning to face it, he raised an arm, and a shining light shield formed in his hand.

  The entity struck the shield and recoiled, making Kayos stagger back. The being writhed on the ground for a moment, hurt by the power in his shield, then crawled away. There was not much that could challenge a light god of his stature, but shadow beasts of great power were inclined to try. When he was certain that the being had retreated, he reabsorbed the shield and walked on, glancing back at the tired trio that rode after him, pale and hollow eyed, within the protection of his power. None of them had asked him to stop and rest, although they were clearly at the end of their strength, their concern for Bane forced them to continue. The real danger was somewhere behind him, but as yet he could not sense the dark god who pursued him.

  Bane woke with a jerk, his cheek stinging. Ethra drew back, lowering her hand, and Sarrin leant closer as if to distract him. For several moments he was utterly disorientated, and struggled to sit up as a host of unpleasant memories assailed him. He discovered that he was too weak to achieve this simple goal, and Sarrin had to help him. Raising a shaking hand to his brow, he gazed around in confusion as wave of dizzying darkness, sparkling with bright lights, washed over him. Sarrin pressed a cup to his lips, and water sloshed out of it as he recoiled in surprise.

  "Drink, Bane, you need to replace the blood you lost."

  Bane shook his head, gazing bemusedly at the rest of the group, who sat close by, watching him. He tried to speak, but only a whisper issued from his dry throat, and he coughed. Sarrin pressed the cup to his lips again, and this time he sipped from it, his stomach knotting.

  "What are you doing here?" he croaked. "How did you get here?"

  "Ethra insisted that we find you, so we climbed down after you."

  Bane frowned at his bandaged wrists. "You climbed down?"

  "There was a staircase."

  "Why?"

  Sarrin smiled. "We believe that you are what you claim to be."

  Bane bowed his head, taking stock of himself. The dark power sulked malignantly in his bones and gnawed at his flesh, making his stomach knot. His heart laboured and his head pounded, his limbs shook with as if with palsy.

  "I am no use to you now. I will only burden you."

  "You said you could find another domain where we would be safe."

  "I can no longer walk."

  "Then we will carry you." Sarrin glanced at the four men who sat around the fire, and they grimaced, but nodded.

  "Domains are few and far between. And even if we find one we may not be able to get in."

  "It is our only hope."

  Bane gazed at their gaunt, dirty faces, their eyes filled with despair. "A slim one."

  "But better than none."

  He closed his eyes and lay back with a sigh. "The choice is yours, but I may not live long enough to help you."

  "How long do you have?"

  "A few days at most, probably less."

  "Then we should set off at once."

  The group broke camp, shouldering their meagre supplies, then used strips of cloth like the ones that bound his wrists to make slings. These they threaded under his arms and tied to his ankles. The four men lifted him, and they set off across the stone landscape. Ethra led them back to the staircase, and then struck off along the cliff face.

  Kayos stepped through a thin barrier of noxious gas into a world of grey stone that a seething red sky lighted. He paused, sniffing the stale air, which was filled with the stench of a dromon. Such semi sentient areas of the God Realm were exceedingly dangerous, and he searched for its brooding presence. Failing to find it, he examined the ground more closely. Fire had recently swept through it, and he guessed that someone had destroyed the dromon that had dwelt here.

  Only a dark god had the power to do that, but he could find no trace of shadows lingering in the stone, which meant that the person who had destroyed it had used true fire. The ability to summon true fire was confined to mortal gods and fire demons, but fire demons could not command the elements like a god, which made him hope that the dromon slayer was Bane. Kayos set off across the rocky terrain, and the Hound emerged from the grey wall behind him. Kayos rose into the air and speeded across the rocky terrain, the steeds galloping below, the ground flying beneath him.

  Chapter Six

  Release

  Something made Ethra glance back, and she yelped and whirled, her hand dropping to her dagger. A grey man strode towards them, his silver hair gleaming in the dull light. The rest of the group turned, dumping Bane on the ground as they reached for their weapons. Ethra stared at the grey man, who moved with amazing speed. His silver eyes flicked over them and came to rest on Bane. Ignoring the latent threat of the crossbows aimed at his heart, he brushed past Ethra and Sarrin and fell to his knees beside Bane. His hands flashed out to grip the shining rings on Bane's wrists, and the metal flared at his touch. With a swift tug, he pulled them through Bane's flesh, coming away with two intact cuffs. The grey man leant over Bane and clasped his face, blue light flaring where they touched.

  The dark god's eyes opened, and Ethra held her breath as the two regarded each other. Then Bane smiled and the grey man nodded.

  "You are free."

  Releasing Bane, the grey man rose to his feet and stepped back, a move that the four men who had been carrying Bane emulated. Ethra became aware that the temperature was dropping swiftly, and cast a nervous glance at Sarrin, but the priestess stared at the grey man. Ethra looked at Bane again, and gasped. Shadows oozed from his skin and swirled around him like smoke, pouring through his clothes in a tide of intense evil that made her gut clench and her skin prickle. She retreated from its influence with a hand raised to her mouth, as did Sarrin, her face pale. The grey man walked away to gaze across the stone landscape, the shackles in one hand.

  Ethra noticed the three people who had approached while they had been watching the grey man, and gazed at Bane. A pale, golden-haired girl stood within the comforting arm of an older man, a hand over her mouth, her eyes shimmering with tears. The older man looked intensely relieved, and beyond them, a warrior fondled his sword hilt, a frown furrowing his brow. Three magnificent horses stood like statues nearby, and she wondered how such beasts could survive in this blighted place.

  Sarrin approached the grey man, her hands clasped, and Ethra followed, curious. He turned, and Sarrin fell to her knees, bowing her head.

  "Lord."

  "You are the one who prayed to me."

  "Yes, Lord."

  "Your concern for my son is laudable."

  Sarrin raised her head. "You are the one he spoke of, Lord? You are one of the Seven?"

  "Yes. I am Kayos."

  Sarrin flung herself down at his feet in an abject prostration. "Great Lord. Eldest of the Seven Grey Gods."

  Ethra belatedly sank to her knees, dumbstruck, and Kayos made a curt gesture as the other members of the group began to do the same.
"Get up, all of you. Do not bow to me, whoever placed these shackles upon the Demon Lord."

  Sarrin stood up, her face twisted with contrition and despair. "We did not know he was tar'merin, Lord, we beg forgiveness."

  Kayos' brows almost met above blazing silver eyes, and he raised the glowing shackles. "You have not the right to use these, or to judge upon whom they are placed. You have broken one of the highest laws placed upon mortals."

  Artan stepped forward. "I put them on him, Lord."

  Rage emanated from the Grey God in palpable waves, and he reached Artan in a stride, knocking him down with a powerful blow.

  "No!" Ethra ran forward, then stopped, stricken with fear. "I told him to do it."

  Kayos turned to her, and she cringed. "You are but a child."

  Sarrin held out a pleading hand. "It was the demi goddess, Rinath, who influenced her. She is blameless."

  "Where is this Rinath?"

  "Dead. Artan helped to slay her, and was burnt. The other man is dead. We tried to remove the shackles, once we realised our mistake. We thought him a black mage."

  Kayos glared at her. "My anger is justified. Using these is forbidden. You almost killed him, through your ignorance. Your god is a fool to create such as you."

  Sarrin bowed her head. "Our god is dead."

  "Because he was foolish enough to try to use these." Kayos shook the shackles at her, making them chime musically. "And through your stupidity, you have put me in danger."

  "You, Lord?" Sarrin looked amazed.

  "Yes. A dark god pursues me, and Bane was to have been my salvation, but thanks to your foolishness he will not be able to protect me until he has recovered."

  Ethra glanced around, and Sarrin looked at Bane. The shadows continued to pour from him, forming a pool of darkness around him, some of it sinking into the stone.

  "Can you not heal him, Lord?"

  "When he is purged, but it will take time, and I have little. You must carry him away from here, for if the dark god finds you he will kill you all. I shall ascend to the next level and make my stand there. When Bane is well enough, he must free me."