She returned to his side. "But I am not a god."
"No, you are my opposite, my nemesis. Your abbess should have thanked you, for you are the one who defeated me, and through me, your goddess defeated the Black Lord."
She took his hand. "You deserve more of the credit than any of us. Without you, none of it would have been possible."
"Without me, none of it would have happened."
"Then it would have been another, perhaps one who could not be turned to the light. No, you deserved the thanks."
Bane shrugged, and they wandered on. Beyond the orchard, the dark folk camped on the hallowed ground, sitting around their campfires in silent misery. At the sight of Bane they rose and bowed, chanting his name in gruff voices. Mirra gazed at them with horrified pity, for they were thin and bedraggled, their clothes and fur caked with dried mud, their faces gaunt and hollow-eyed. Bane raised a hand, and they fell silent.
"Go. Return to your homes," he ordered.
For several minutes they digested this, then stamped out their fires and gathered their few possessions. Bane turned and walked away.
Chapter Fifteen
The Dark Power
For two more days, the Demon Lord rested, regaining his strength. The healers gave him their best food, as much as he wished, although they rationed themselves to conserve what little they had. The villagers returned to their homes to repair the damage and try to pick up the pieces of their lives. The abbey resumed its peaceful existence, and the healers dispensed healing to all who came seeking it. Martal and his men helped to dig up the ruined vegetable garden and plant new seeds, cut wood for the kitchen stoves and tend the animals.
Bane spent most of his time in his room, except when Mirra persuaded him to walk in the gardens, usually at twilight, when the sunlight did not bother him so much. He told her all that had happened to him while she had been Arkonen's prisoner, but she could not bring herself to tell him what had happened to her during that time. He did not enquire, either, she supposed, out of consideration for her feelings, or because he had a fair idea of what Arkonen had done. He was withdrawn and pensive, and spent many hours staring into space, his expression deadpan.
Several times Martal's night watch encountered him sitting alone in the darkness outside the abbey, gazing at the stars. Mirra tried to draw him from his solemn mood with bright banter, but her chatter only evinced slight, enigmatic smiles tinged with sorrow. Although she longed to know the reason for his depression, she was afraid to ask.
On the third day, Bane decided that it was time to go to the Old Kingdom and close the Source there. He did not like to take Mirra with him, knowing that the dark power would sicken her, but she dismissed his objections. This was an adventure she did not want to miss, and a little queasiness was a paltry price to pay. At least this time she knew she would be in no danger, with the Demon Lord at her side, and she had no wish to be parted from him. After breakfast, Bane led her into the inner courtyard, then turned to her and held out his hand. She took it without hesitation, trusting him completely.
Bane Moved, reappearing in the Old Kingdom temple, not far from the blood-encrusted altar. Mirra doubled over and clutched her stomach as the waves of nausea made her retch, her skin prickling with the intense cold of the Move. Bane held her up, and she clung to him, glad of his warmth and support, even though his expression was austere and he was already glancing around at the dark temple. Here the black clouds still blocked out the sun, and the dark power rose from the ground in sickening waves, powered by the Source. Lightning flickered, illuminating the temple and its grisly contents. Decaying human remains lay strewn on the floor in black pools of dried blood.
Mirra averted her gaze from the rotting cadavers and clung to Bane's hand as he strolled to the steps that led down into the city, where he stopped and gazed at Arkonen's monstrous new temple. The ruddy glow of the Source within it shone from its narrow windows and massive doors, and dark power poured forth in waves of shadow. Bane strode down the steps, kicking aside a grinning skull that bounced away with dull crunches, trailing rotting brains. Mirra held a hand over her nose to try to block out the stench, but it permeated everything. The air seemed to be made from it. Bane stopped at the temple door and turned to her.
"You should wait here. The power inside is intense."
"No." Mirra glanced around at the darkness, unwilling to be alone in it. "I am coming with you."
Bane walked into the temple, Mirra close on his heels. The evil made her stomach heave, and she was forced to stop and empty it next to a twisted, bulbous pillar. She sensed that she would have been incinerated instantly if not for her power, which made her skin glow slightly as it protected her. The sulphurous stench overpowered the sickly sweet fetor of decay, but she could not decide which was worse. Bane waited for her, then approached the glowing cracks in the floor when she re-joined him. The intense heat that emanated from them burnt her skin, and she raised her hands to shield her face. Bane glanced at her, noticed her discomfort, and gestured. The heat and the sickness vanished, allowing her to walk beside him into the middle of the temple. She gazed around, fascinated.
"What did you do?"
He studied the runes on the walls. "I am shielding you. I could take you to the Underworld if you wish. Arkonen shielded me until I learnt how to do it myself. I should have done it sooner. I was remiss."
"You could take me to the Underworld?"
"Yes. Do you want to go?"
She hesitated. "Perhaps. I would like to see where you grew up."
"I doubt you would like it."
"Probably not."
Bane looked around, his expression shuttered. A flare of fire drew his attention to one of the glowing cracks as a fire demon manifested, followed by three others. Bane frowned at them as they bowed to him.
"Mealle. How typical of you to survive."
"Demon Lord. You honour us with your presence. How may we serve you?"
"I did not summon you. I have no need of your services."
"We wish to serve. You have defeated the Black Lord, now you are ruler of the Underworld. No one will dare to dispute your claim."
"I am sure," Bane drawled. "But I have no intention of claiming that throne. Arkonen will free himself from the Land of the Dead soon enough."
"He will bow at your feet, Lord."
Bane smiled. "A pleasant thought, but he can keep the stinking place. I am not going back there."
"We beg you to reconsider. All that we have is yours. You will want for nothing."
"You just do not want him as your master again. You think I would be a better master, and I can protect you from him."
The demon's eyes brightened. "It is your home."
"I know what you really want. You want to stop me from restoring the wards and banishing you from the Overworld. That would spoil your fun, would it not?"
"You could rule both worlds, and all would bow at your feet. Your power would be infinite. Even the realm of Eternity would be within your grasp once you have opened the World Gate within this realm."
"That is what Arkonen intended to do, is it not?"
"He wished to rule all three realms, yes. Now that is within your power."
"And how is this World Gate opened?"
The demon smiled. "The soul of a fallen healer is the key, Lord. You have only to corrupt the human girl who stands beside you, a simple matter for you, since she has no defence against you."
"How so?"
"Her hatred of the Black Lord foiled his attempts to corrupt her, and the goddess Lyriasharin protected her from his power. But the Goddess sleeps now, and the girl would not be able to resist you."
Mirra backed away, horrified by the demon's scheming words, which Bane seemed to be considering. Before she could move beyond his reach, Bane's hand flashed out and pulled her back to his side. Another three fire demons manifested, filling the temple with bright fire.
"Why do you say that she cannot resist me, Mealle?" Bane enquired.
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"In her time with you, her heart has been opened, Lord. She has weak human emotions that you could easily exploit. All you need do is open her flesh to the dark power and take her soul."
Mirra tried to free herself from Bane's hand, longing to flee the massive, malevolent demons and their vicious, plotting words. That Bane had entered into this polite discourse with them sickened her, and even though she did not believe he would betray her, she had no wish to listen to him banter with them. He pulled her closer and bent to murmur in her ear.
"You must stay close to me. To stray now would be dangerous."
She stopped struggling and clung to his hand, and he turned back to the demons.
"What about the Goddess? Would she not defend her realm?"
"Against you?" Mealle laughed, a nasty, hissing sound. "She would flee from you in terror, Lord. Her power brings only life, not death."
"She helped to cast Arkonen down."
"Her fire merely stripped away his shadow form and forced him to return to the Land of the Dead, and only because you wielded it. But you, Lord, are alive. She can do nothing to you."
"Who sent Arkonen to the Land of the Dead in the first place? Did he die of old age?"
The demons chuckled. "No, Lord. Lyriasharin descended and struck Arkonen down with a mundane weapon."
"Then she could do the same to me."
The demons guffawed, making Mirra shudder. "Impossible, Lord. Arkonen was a mere mortal with no power, you are a god."
Bane shook his head. "You are lying, Mealle. The white fire struck me down. It almost killed me."
"You were weak and sick at the time, Lord. And you were not expecting the attack. You could easily defend yourself against the white fire."
"I do not think so. Arkonen tried and failed. Why would I succeed?"
The demons were silent, save for a faint hissing, crackling sound that a fire would make. Mirra paid it no mind, but Bane raised a finger.
"Do not conspire in your own tongue, Mealle. Speak to me or not at all, lest I destroy you."
The demon shook its head. "No, Lord, we do not conspire."
"You are in league with the Black Lord. Has he crawled from the Land of the Dead already? You seek to send me to the Goddess' realm so she can kill me, since Arkonen failed."
"No, Lord. He is still in the Land of the Dead."
"That, I believe, but as to the rest, you are lying. I could easily banish you and summon you to make you tell the truth. But there is no need. I know what it is already. You do not want the wards put back, so you think you can tempt me with your stupid scheme, and the Goddess will kill me, leaving you free to sport in the Overworld and no one to stop Arkonen when he rises from the Land of the Dead. Did you persuade Arkonen to try this idiotic scheme, in the hope of getting rid of him too? I will wager you did. Your stratagem is diabolical, but then, one must expect that from demons."
Four more fire demons manifested in the temple, and Mealle bowed. "We have no wish to cause you harm, Demon Lord, we only seek to help you to conquer the Eternal Realm."
Bane snorted. "For a demon, you are quite stupid. You and your brethren have always hated serving Arkonen, and you resented him for making the Goddess set the wards that bound you all below. You hate the fact that a former mortal can wield more power than you, and rule you in your realm. What made you think I would believe you wanted to help me? Was it not you who taught me not to expect or accept help? You would not even help your own kind.
"I know you better than you think, better than you would like. If you had planned this better, you would have won my trust when I was growing up, then I might have been gullible enough to believe your lies. But you did not."
He glanced around at the growing throng of demons. "You even think you and your kin can defeat me. Think again. Trying to defend this Source against me will cost you your existence. All of you."
Mealle's eyes flared to white-hot brilliance. "Even your power has its limits, Bane. You are but a mortal youth."
A crackling roar filled the temple as the demons swelled. Their eyes became beams of white-hot light that lanced towards Bane in sweeping swathes, turning the stone it touched molten. Dozens of demons manifested together. Earth demons rose in a rush of stone and earth, their arms raised to crush Bane. Mirra cried out and dropped to the floor, covering her head as Bane raised his arms and unleashed a double sweep of dark power so thick it rent the air with curving conduits of blackness.
The seven runes on his chest flared to brilliant yellow as his Gather drew power from the Source, and he flung it from him in great lashes of shadow. All that it touched perished. The earth demons flew apart in clouds of dust and sprays of gravel. The fire demons exploded in flares of bright flame. Bane staggered as the sweep of a fire demon's eyes penetrated his shields and burnt into his shoulder. More demons rushed into the room, swelled from the fiery cracks or rose with incredible speed, only to be obliterated by the arcing conduits of black fire that streamed from Bane's hands.
The foul, icy touch of an air demon engulfed Mirra for an instant, curdling her stomach, then Bane's fire burnt it away. Several air demons coalesced as they were turned to ash. Bane flung the power with broad sweeps of his hands, destroying everything around him. An earth demon rose from the floor almost on top of him, striking him with a huge fist before it was torn apart. He staggered back, leaving Mirra unprotected, then he leapt to defend her again before a fire demon's eyes found her.
Then they were gone, and Bane stood panting, his eyes searching the shadows for any sign of them. After several minutes of vigilance, he looked down at Mirra. She crouched, her face buried in her robe, clasping her head. He bent and touched her shoulder.
"They have gone. I do not think they will return."
Mirra looked up at him, then climbed to her feet and flung her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. Bane leashed the fire and snuffed out the runes. His flesh tingled and his blood burnt in the aftermath of using so much magic. Lines of glowing, molten rock scored the temple's walls, obliterating runes and arcane symbols, and streams of lava ran from them to drip in orange blobs onto the floor. Mirra became aware of the blood that seeped from his shoulder and raised her head, releasing him.
"You are hurt."
"Let us leave this place." Bane took her arm and led her out of the temple.
On the steps, he stopped and pulled open his shirt to examine the deep burns in his shoulder. Three bloody welts ran from the edge of his arm to the middle of his shoulder. Cursing, he extracted the jar of green paste from his pocket, and Mirra took from him and smeared it on the burns. Bane sank down on the steps and wiped the sweat from his brow with a hand that shook a little. In many ways, fighting demons was worse than fighting Arkonen, since their power could harm him, even as his could destroy them.
Mirra frowned as she tended his wounds. "How could they harm you? Surely you are far more powerful than them?"
"They are elementals. They are made of real fire and that is what they use. All of them are dangerous, most of all the fire demons. Demons contain dark power, but they cannot use it as a weapon."
"But how did this happen?"
He glanced at the wounds. "A lapse in my shields, a break in my concentration." He shrugged. "I am not perfect."
She finished smearing the paste on and wiped her burning fingers on her robe, then capped the jar and handed it back to him. "You were shielding me as well."
"Of course."
"Is this why you did not want me to come? Did you think this was going to happen? "
"No. The thought had not crossed my mind." He frowned. "But I should have realised that they would try to protect the Source. They do not want to be trapped in the Underworld again. I just did not think they would dare to go against me. It is a good thing you did not wait outside. They would have attacked you too."
"They certainly paid a heavy price. How many did you destroy?"
"Quite a few. I was not counting." He shifted and winced.
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Mirra's expression became concerned. "What is wrong?"
Bane grimaced. "An earth demon hit me. It is nothing."
"Knowing how you tolerate pain, it is probably bad. Where does it hurt?"
Bane lifted his arm and clasped his ribs, and she pulled open his shirt to reveal a mottled red mark. When she probed the area, he hissed and grimaced again.
"You have two broken ribs. Sit still, and I will heal them."
"You cannot."
"Ellese healed your hands."
"This is too close to the runes."
Mirra glanced at the blackened scars. "They are not glowing."
He smiled crookedly. "They do not have to be."
"I want to try. You just concentrate on helping me."
Bane sighed and leant back, allowing her to lay her hands on his ribs. She closed her eyes, concentrating, and he sensed the intrusion of her power, his own reacting by rushing to block it. He leashed it, forcing it into his bones, and kept the runes dark when they tried to ignite. Her power seeped into his skin, pushing back his defences, and he had to fight his instinctive wish to repel the invasion. His skin tingled and grew warm as her healing suffused it, pushing the dark power back, the boundary between the two etched in a faint blue glow. Bane tried to draw the power away as he had done in his hands, but it rebelled, too close to the runes. Mirra sighed and removed her hands, sitting back.
"I think it worked."
He sat up and probed the area, finding it still painful but much improved. "Much better."
Mirra glanced around. "I think we are being watched."
He nodded. "For several minutes now. It is the people of the city."
She searched the gloomy streets, but could find no sign of the watchers.
Bane snorted. "You cannot see them."
"They are afraid of you."
"I do not blame them."
"Nor do I." His brows rose, and she smiled. "Well you did murder their emperor in front of them."
"Only when he tried to murder me."
"It was how you did it that was so terrible."
Dark God Page 28