Demon Lord III - Grey God

by T C Southwell

"I might surprise you."

  "Your tar'merin is dead, and Drayshina is my slave." Vorkon's cold eyes flicked over Kayos. "You are next. The Realm Gate is guarded once more, so there is no escape from this domain. When I have destroyed the tar'merin's soul in the Forever, I shall return for you."

  The news of Bane's death stunned Kayos, and worse, Vorkon knew where to find his soul. If Vorkon destroyed him before he could gather the power to leave the light realm, Drayshina was doomed to aeons of slavery, and he would be hard put to escape the domain. Vorkon sniggered and vanished. Mirra gave a soft cry and turned to bury her face in Mithran's chest. He stroked her hair, murmuring words of comfort, his visage drawn and haggard. Kayos frowned, shaking his head.

  "He lied. Bane cannot be dead. His shield still protects you."

  Grem doubled over, clutching his stomach, and vomited. Mithran turned away to retch, and Mirra paled, her expression becoming anguished. Kayos cast a shield around them, and they gazed at him with despairing eyes. Mirra covered her face and wept.

  The air shimmered as Syrin stepped out of the channel and into a dead forest, passing through an invisible door in the substance of reality. Syrin gazed down at the man at her feet, then raised her wings and knelt beside him. Tracing the contours of his cheek with long fingers, she tilted her head as she studied his face.

  "Tar'merin," she murmured. "Your call has been answered."

  Her gaze dropped to the dagger hilt protruding from his shoulder, and she considered it. "I cannot heal you, but I will help you."

  Her eyes flicked to the second wound that oozed a slow crimson stream. "Mortal god. Beware death's soft footfalls, lest it catch you unawares."

  Syrin unbuttoned his tunic and pulled it open, her eyes widening at the sight of the rune scars. She passed her hand over them. "Power, sorrow, death and pain."

  Returning her attention to the wound in his side, she placed her hand upon it, and gossamer threads appeared under it as if spun from the air. They clung to his skin, sealed the wound and stopped the bleeding. Again she considered the dagger in his shoulder, then stood up, folding her wings again, and glanced around at the dead forest.

  "Your mortality hides you, but I can hide you better."

  Raising her arms, she moved around him with slow, graceful steps. Skeins of shining thread appeared where her hands passed through the air, gathering upon each other, creating a silken cocoon about him, which gave off a soft light. When she had sealed the cocoon above them, she returned to his side and knelt there again, gazing down at him.

  "That means he's dead, doesn't it?" Mithran demanded.

  "No, not necessarily." Kayos shook his head. "He might only be unconscious."

  "Please find him! Help him!" Mirra cried.

  An Eye appeared before Kayos, showing the dark, skeletal remains of a dead forest. Kayos adjusted the focus. "That is odd," he muttered. "It cannot find him."

  "Would it still find him if he was dead?" Mirra asked.

  "Yes."

  "What is it then?"

  Kayos shook his head. "Someone has intervened. I will go to the light realm and speak to the Oracle. I must find him quickly. I will take you to a temple where you will be safe."

  "Please hurry, My Lord."

  Chapter Ten

  Angel

  Kayos walked through the Forever City, the translucent forms of souls stepping from his path, many turning to gaze after him. A maze of broad, tree-lined roads stretched away on all sides, intersected by swathes of rolling mist lawn and banks of star flowered cloud. The buildings reflected the various cultures of the Lightworld's many people, who dwelt within them. Here all was elevated to its highest form, so that even the ugliest construction, which in the Lightworld was truly hideous, had beauty. Here too, every house of the dead was recreated in flawless detail, save for the change of its substance to cloud, stars and diamond sand.

  Areas of cloudiness hinted at fantasy landscapes within them, vast lakes upon which souls rowed idle boats and sang soft songs, or drifted through the mists in the company of their friends. In other places, the mists hid landscapes of green with brightly coloured flowers more beautiful than any found in the mid-realm, created to satisfy the souls' longing for their former home. The souls of beasts dwelt with their friends, playing with them beneath the rainbow-shot clouds. He was tempted to ask one if a god had entered the Forever City, but a strange god did not make his presence known amongst the dead of the resident deity, such a thing was frowned upon.

  Instead he headed for the city's centre, where a tall, glimmering minaret marked the Oracle's presence. His feet glided along the shining road, carrying him faster than the wandering souls. He could not Move to an Oracle, since it did not exist at a fixed point in time and space. The only way to approach one was to walk to its visible presence. The Oracle waited, and he sensed its welcome touch him with its whispering thoughts, echoes of the wisdom of the ages trapped within it.

  As he arrived at the towering minaret's alabaster wall, a door formed in it. Within, a diffuse golden light filled a vast chamber, and he traversed the echoing star field that floored it like an expanse of blackness upon which countless diamonds had been scattered. This was the source of white fire about which the domain had been created. The Oracle had once been a realm seed, which Drayshina had transformed into an object of infinite power. It contained all the history and knowledge of the domain from the moment of its creation, and the domains it had been before.

  Kayos stopped before it and gazed upon the rainbow helix it had chosen to resemble, twisting as it turned, mesmerising to its beholder. He spoke, knowing he uttered the words although he could not hear them.

  "Has the soul of a god entered the Forever this day?"

  The echo of the answer came before the word itself, as was usual for an Oracle. "No."

  "Where is the tar'merin?"

  "In the Lightworld."

  Kayos frowned. For the Oracle to be so vague could only mean that something prevented it from giving details. "Who hides him?"

  "Syrin."

  His frown deepened. "Why did she come?"

  "He called."

  "Why does she hide him?"

  "He is in danger."

  Kayos sighed in frustration. The Oracle only spoke the purest truth, which was sometimes irritatingly useless. Only a carefully phrased question would garner more information, anything badly thought out would receive repetition. Kayos turned and strode out of the chamber, leaving the Oracle to its endless turning as it soaked up the domain's information. Outside, he Moved, reappearing beside the gazebo in the light realm. He entered it and sat on the couch, pondering the Oracle's information.

  For a being such as Syrin to hide a dark god was unusual, and it made finding him extremely difficult, impossible for an ordinary light god. He was a Grey God, however, and more than that, he was Kayos, from whom all things had sprung. He stretched out on the couch and created an Eye.

  It showed a fire-walled city, and he changed the view to a dense tract of gloomy forest beneath the burning sky. Taking hold of the edges of the Eye, he bent his will upon it, and its image wavered, then changed to a swirling mass of colour and formless texture. He looked back into the chaos from which all things had been formed, marking the tracks of the gods who had tamed it, Ordur's glimmering trail most obvious. He read the patterns within it as only he could, searching for a blank spot that would indicate the presence of the being he sought.

  Syrin raised her head and gazed up at the cocoon's glowing roof, a smile curling her pale lips. "Kayos seeks you. Hail the Grey God, Master of Chaos, most powerful of the Seven. He shall not find you."

  She gestured, and the cocoon's glow dimmed to a dull grey, then looked down at Bane. "He thinks Ordur is his equal, but it is not so. No, Kayos is greater, for it was he who unravelled the nothingness and set it into motion, who created all that the others moulded. Ordur led them, but he alone did not do it. And Kayos was the only one who did not have a hand in our creation. He had the
wisdom to oppose the others, if not the power to stop them. They created us, their chosen ones, the first people, their big mistake."

  While she spoke, her eyes wandered around the enclosure. When she glanced down at the dark god again, she received a shock. He had opened his eyes, and frowned at her.

  "Who are you?"

  "I am Syrin. You asked for my help."

  "I do not recall doing that." He tried to sit up, but flopped back with a grunt. "You have not helped much."

  "I am not a healer, tar'merin. I stopped the bleeding and saved your life, but I can do no more." She gestured to the glowing cocoon around them. "I have hidden you from your enemies."

  Bane glanced at the dagger hilt protruding from his shoulder and grimaced. His eyes flicked back to Syrin and wandered over her, lingering on her face. "You are a creature of the light. Why would you help a dark god?"

  "You are tar'merin."

  Bane sat up, his jaw muscles bulging as he gritted his teeth.

  Syrin said, "You should rest."

  "I have to get this dagger out. Why did you not at least remove it while I was unconscious?"

  "I am not strong enough."

  "Can you stop the bleeding if I pull it out?"

  "Yes."

  Bane reached up and yanked the dagger free, swaying as his vision darkened. A light touch on his shoulder told him that Syrin tended the wound, covering it with gossamer threads. By the time he had recovered, she had finished and sat back again, her hands folded in her lap. Bane studied her.

  A tattered raiment that appeared to have been spun from glittering cobwebs clad her slight, willowy form. Her shining visage held the serenity of the ages and a child's innocence. Childlike too, in its appearance, her features refined beyond all trace of humanity, as pale as snow, delicate and ethereal. Gossamer skeins of flaxen hair floated about her shoulders, and eyes as blue as a summer sky glimmered within frames of dusky lashes. Vast, snowy wings were raised over her back, their long pinions almost brushing the ground.

  "What are you?"

  She laughed, a musical trill that reminded him of Lyriasharin. "Ignorant indeed, for a god."

  "I am new at it." His eyes glinted. "And I do not like guessing games."

  "You think to frighten me, Demon Lord?"

  "How do you know my name?"

  "I know everything about you, for I have touched you. And you cannot frighten me."

  Bane glared at her. "Since you are here to help me, find Kayos and bring him here so he can heal me."

  "You will heal, in time."

  "Not soon enough. Are you here to help me or not?"

  "I am, but it does not mean you may command me."

  He glanced around. "You hide me from my ally as well as my enemy, and, since you cannot heal me, it is his help I need. If you do not reveal my presence to him, or bring him here, I shall burn this - this structure of yours away so he can find me."

  Her eyes widened. "Such ingratitude. Never have I been so offended."

  "How many dark gods have you helped?"

  "None, naturally."

  "That is the reason then. Now remove it, or I will."

  She pouted. "Very well."

  The silken threads shimmered and fell to the ground, where they vanished. Bane lay back, watching her. Even though she was a creature of the light, or perhaps because of it, he did not trust her. The light had attacked and almost killed him before. The dark power filled him with suspicion and dislike for anything that was in liege with the light. Syrin smiled and glanced upwards, as if pleased by something.

  Kayos recoiled with a curse, closing his eyes as a point of utter nothingness appeared in the swirling chaos within the Eye, breaking his concentration upon it before his gaze was sucked in by its sudden appearance. He released the Eye, letting its image return to normal, then sought Bane within it, finding the location of the Demon Lord and his new companion. Rising from the couch, he Moved.

  Bane frowned at Syrin, who watched him with a slight, supercilious smile that he found annoying. "Why will you not tell me what you are?"

  She shrugged. "It amuses me that you do not know."

  "I have a fair idea."

  "So what am I?"

  "She is one of the first people," a familiar voice said, and Bane turned his head. Kayos stood on the other side of him, glowering at Syrin, who smiled coyly. "Her kind was created by the Grey Gods before the domains, to serve us, and to populate the God Realm. They were a mistake I was not a part of, I am glad to say." He looked down at Bane. "We call them Vesarians, but humans have another name for them. Angels."

  Bane glanced at Syrin. "I thought so."

  "Praise be to your name, Kayos, foremost of the Seven," Syrin purred.

  Kayos knelt beside Bane, once again hesitating to touch him. He shot Syrin a narrow-eyed glance. "This time your meddling was thwarted, for you have not been summoned by a dark god before, have you?"

  "They cannot." She looked displeased. "One such as he has not existed for aeons."

  "You may leave now. He no longer requires your aid."

  "I choose to stay."

  "A bad decision."

  Kayos placed his hands upon the wound in Bane's shoulder, and the Demon Lord leashed his power into his bones. Blue light flared between them, and it took Kayos several minutes to penetrate the web of dark power under Bane's skin, then the wound closed. When he had healed the wounds in Bane's flank and wrist, Kayos helped him to sit up, and a wave of dizzying darkness made him sag. Kayos steadied him.

  "You have lost a great deal of blood. It will take some time for you to recover."

  Bane fingered the holes in his shirt, and Kayos stood, eyeing Syrin. Bane was surprised by the antagonism that crackled between god and angel. She smiled sweetly at the Grey God.

  "A light god who is not afraid to touch a dark brother. Brave indeed, mighty Kayos."

  "Beware, Syrin, a tar'merin may grow weary of your meddling, and he can harm you."

  "And you are not immune to that danger. He will have no compunction at striking you down, should you enrage him."

  Bane glanced at Kayos, who frowned at him.

  "I am aware of that," Kayos murmured.

  Bane closed his eyes and bowed his head as unpleasant memories rushed back. "Vorkon has Drayshina."

  "I know. He hunts you now. We cannot stay here, nor can we go to the light realm. There are demons there again. I was there a moment ago, seeking you in the Forever City. Vorkon said you were dead, and I went there to find you. But the Oracle told me that you lived, and that Syrin was hiding you."

  "But you could not find him," Syrin murmured.

  "I would have."

  "Perhaps."

  Bane glanced at Kayos. "Where is Mirra?"

  "Safe, at a temple."

  "I must go to her."

  "She is all right. Rest."

  Bane frowned at Syrin. "Why does she have powers we do not possess?"

  "She does not. Angels have no powers, only the abilities their makers gave them. Hiding is one of their specialities."

  Bane tried to rise to his feet, but sank back with a growl of frustration.

  "Rest, Bane," Kayos remonstrated.

  Bane looked down at his hands, spreading them. "I failed."

  "That was not the kind of confrontation we wanted. You were unprepared, and still weakened by your battle with the Naribis."

  "It was the same as when I fought Arkonen. I cannot defeat a dark god."

  "You can," Kayos said. "You will."

  "He almost killed me. I had to flee to save myself, and Drayshina is now at his mercy."

  "You did the right thing."

  "What does that matter? I failed." Bane raised his head.

  "You were not defeated -"

  "Yes I was. If I had stayed a few minutes longer I would have been dead."

  "This time, because you are young. You have the power to defeat him; you just do not know how to use it."

  Bane bowed his head again, wings of hai
r falling forward to hide his face. "What will happen to Drayshina?"

  "Do not concern yourself about that. She will survive."

  "He used a Fetch to capture her. It must have been created long ago, and it was well hidden."

  Kayos knelt beside him and summoned a cup of ambrosia. "Drink this; it will help to restore your strength."

  Bane took the cup with a trembling hand, which made him frown more fiercely, hating his weakness.

  Kayos watched him, looking pensive. "He must have created many traps for her. It was only a matter of time before she was captured."

  "She should have left the domain while she could."

  "Perhaps, but I was the one who persuaded her to stay. It would have caused her great pain to unbond herself from her domain, and then she might have perished in the God Realm, searching for another realm seed."

  Bane gazed out across the dark, burning land. Millions of tiny fires spotted it, and narrow fissures glowed with ruddy light. The Darkworld's fire consumed the mid-realm, and dark power rose in sickening waves. He recalled Drayshina lying helpless in the grip of the flesh beast, its scaly black claws gripping her arms, her face twisted with dread and loathing. He wondered what sort of torture Vorkon would inflict upon her, the thought making his blood burn with hatred even as the dark power within him exulted at it. Syrin moved away and adopted a patient pose, her hands folded before her, a slight, inscrutable smile curling her lips, as if she pondered amusing ideas. Kayos stared into the middle distance with a slight frown, his mouth set in a grim line.

  Bane closed his eyes, casting the image of Drayshina's torture out of his mind, since it served no purpose to dwell upon it. The still, foetid air seemed to press in around him, and in the distance the blood-chilling cries of an animal's suffering cut through the stillness. Everything in this domain suffered, man and beast alike, and the stench of death hung over the land in a foul miasma.

  When Bane opened his eyes again, he caught Syrin studying him, her expression filled with curiosity, and frowned when she smiled demurely. He took several more deep draughts of ambrosia, and a little strength seeped back into him. Handing the cup to Kayos, he struggled to his feet, swaying. The Grey God watched him with some concern, then dismissed the cup and vanished.