She beckoned. “Come to me.”
The refugees approached, trying to straighten their ragged attire and brush off the dust that filmed them. When they were gathered around her, she gazed at Drevarin, who stood like a beacon in the valley, drawing soldiers and ships to him. She formed a shimmering light and cast it high, signalling her readiness, and after a moment he ceased to shine, rose and shot across the valley towards her. He landed beside her, spread his hands and raised them in a sweeping gesture, causing a shimmering blue-white shield to rise in a curving shelter over the people. They knelt and bowed their heads, murmuring words of gratitude and praise.
Drevarin said, “Arise and be at ease. No harm will come to you.”
An elderly light priestess stepped forward. “Lord Drevarin, I am overjoyed to see you again.” She hesitated. “Where is Lord Bane?”
“He is busy, Sarrin. I offered to assist.”
“Thank you, Lord.” Sarrin bowed to Sherinias. “Lady Sherinias, we are honoured to meet you.”
The young goddess smiled. “It gladdens my heart to meet mortals who honour my brother and treat him as he deserves.”
“He saved us all.”
A blonde girl in a white dress approached, flanked by a middle-aged man and a younger grey-eyed warrior, who chivvied people from her path.
“Is he all right?” she asked Drevarin.
“Yes, My Lady.”
Sherinias said, “You must be my brother’s wife. I was somewhat surprised to learn that he has a wife, but also pleased. You must indeed be a special person to have won his heart, and it brings me joy to meet you, My Lady.”
“I am likewise delighted to meet you, Lady Sherinias.” Mirra inclined her head, then introduced the middle-aged man beside her, who bore a resemblance to Bane.
Sherinias’ smile widened as Mithran bowed low, his ears reddening. “His flesh father. How wonderful! He is indeed a youth. I am pleased. He takes after you a little.”
“He looks more like his mother, Lady,” Mithran replied.
Mirra introduced the grey-eyed warrior, and Sherinias turned her smile upon the handsome man, who bowed. “So Bane has a mortal friend, too. My brother never ceases to surprise me.”
Drevarin glanced up as the ships arrived and strafed the semi-transparent dome, which brightened where the blue fire struck. The people tensed at the futile bombardment, but soon relaxed, turned to each other with murmurs of wonder and cast Drevarin grateful smiles.
Bane Moved to the light realm again. Sweat beaded his brow and blood oozed from a cut in his shoulder and another on his chest where Tolrar’s dagger had slipped past his guard. The dark god was cunning, but not much of a fighter. Bane unleashed another torrent of black fire with his free hand, which burnt away part of Tolrar’s droge shell and made him writhe and howl as the light attacked him.
Bane drew off the shadows that formed him, gripped his left wrist and blocked the swings of his sword, which were, for the most part, ineffectual. Either Tolrar still thought he could win, or his beast god friend was awake. Bane’s breath came in harsh gasps as he strived to hold onto Tolrar and keep the dagger and sword at bay, fatigue taking its toll. When fully fit, he was a match for a droge, but his mortality became a disadvantage the longer he struggled and the more tired he became.
Each time Bane seemed on the brink of triumphing, Tolrar dipped into his surprisingly large reserves of power and Moved. This time, however, he appeared to be too weak. He growled as his form shrivelled, eaten away by the light, unable to regenerate it as long as Bane drew off his power. He tried to wrench free, and the dagger sliced into Bane’s forearm, making him grimace and twist Tolrar’s arm until it bent.
Bane countered another slash of the dark god’s sword, but Tolrar’s strokes had lost their power, and he dwindled. He cast away his weapon and reached for Bane’s throat with long clawed fingers, and the Demon Lord seized Tolrar’s arm. Tolrar roared, dragging Bane around as he strived to break free, for perhaps without the burden of his foe, he could still have Moved.
Bane increased his Gather, all seven runes flaring yellow under his shirt. Tolrar shrank, his roar becoming faint and torn. The last shreds of his shadow form clung to his ruddy soul, too tenuous for Bane to hold, and he spread his hands to take control of the remnants. All he had to do was crush Tolrar’s soul and he would be destroyed, yet he hesitated. After the ordeal of destroying Torvaran, he had no wish to gain more foul memories. Closing his hands, he released the soul, and it shot down through the clouds, drawn back to the dark realm.
The Demon Lord panted clouds of steam, aching in the aftermath of using the dark power and still filled with that which he had Gathered from Tolrar. His wounds hurt, but he had escaped with fewer injuries than ever before. His muscles throbbed and jumped after the strain they had been under during the battle. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, letting the tension seep out of him. A frisson of dark power made him look up and spin around as the jaws of the beast god closed upon him. Its lower teeth tore into his belly and its top jaw smashed down on his head. Darkness blotted everything out.
Kayos stared at the monstrous beast, his heart gripped by cold dread. It swung Bane high and smashed him onto the ground with a sickening crunch of breaking bones. For an instant the Grey God was frozen with horror, then he leapt at the beast god and seized its tail, making it lash and hiss. Its sibilant words reached him, filled with hatred and fury at the defeat of its friend, swearing vengeance. Its head swooped towards him, its neck curving close to its flank as it sought the invisible enemy that clung to its tail, dragging him closer. Kayos Moved, seeking the only place where a dark god could be defeated without Bane.
Senior Containment Technician Erton fidgeted at his station in Miraculous’ containment room, wishing Commander Sarjan had ordered the contechs to abandon ship along with the rest of the non-essential crewmembers. Being a member of the skeleton crew made him uneasy. He knew what the dra’voren had done to the ship, although the containment room had escaped unscathed, which made no sense. Surely the dra’voren should have destroyed it first, since it posed a threat to him?
The ship had landed, and the generators idled, barely audible, while rescue crews searched the ravaged decks for survivors, engineers repaired the generator and damage control teams extinguished fires. Erton saw no point in a containment crew remaining on station. There was no chance of capturing any dra’voren when the ship was so badly damaged. The events of the past few hours gave him much to discuss with his two fellow contechs, who watched a vidscreen that showed rescue teams pulling survivors from the wreckage.
“Did you see what happened when that other dra’voren arrived?” the junior contech enquired.
Erton nodded. Just about everyone must have seen it on the internal monitors, since most had been watching the first dra’voren destroying the ship, and he had been no exception. “Bloody amazing. He almost shoved that bastard right through the wall.”
“I’ve heard that he’s like us, but if he is, how the hell can he be so strong?”
As the other contech opened his mouth to comment, several alarms went off at once, making them jump. Erton looked at his scanner screen, where a vast black form filled the shredder room.
“Shit! Dra’voren!”
Erton smacked the stunner button, and a thud shivered the floor. He activated the generators with shaking hands, his stomach knotted. If the generators did not react fast enough, the dra’voren might wake, and it was so large he was unsure of how effective the stunner had been, or would be, should he have to use it again. If he miscalculated the necessity, it could vanish in a blink, and now it knew about the ship. He scowled at the data screen’s readouts while the generators’ faint hum rose in pitch and increased in volume as they came online. The other two contechs gaped at the huge reptilian creature that filled the shredder room. In fact, it overflowed it, Erton noticed when he glanced at the scanner screen again. It only had three legs, and parts of its torso, neck and tail were missing.
Its head was squashed against its flank, as if it had been trying to reach its tail when it had arrived, and it was now packed into the room. He could only surmise that the missing bits were embedded in the walls, roof and floor, or protruded from the hull and into the surrounding rooms, although not into the containment room. Whatever had sent it must have dematerialised it, as the trap did.
With one generator offline, the reliability of the other three was compromised, for they were designed to work in unison. Since the ship was landed and visible, three would be sufficient for a shred, but only just. Erton tore his eyes from his data screen, where readouts tracked the slow rise of the generators’ power, and stared through the shredder room window. Glossy black scales pressed against the armoured glass, each one edged with crimson.
The mid-rank contech muttered, “What the hell is that?”
“Some sort of giant lizard?” Erton hazarded.
“It’s a dra’voren?”
He nodded. “According to the scanners.”
“How the hell did it get in there?”
“I don’t know, unless that mortal dra’voren sent it.”
“Could he do that?”
Erton shook his head. “How should I know?”
Commander Sarjan strode in, followed by three officers, and approached Erton. “What triggered the alarms?”
The senior contech nodded at the window. “That.”
Sarjan’s eyes widened. “Where did that come from?”
“No idea, sir.”
“Well don’t just sit there, shred it.”
“Yes sir.” Erton tapped keys and read the information that scrolled up the screen. “Power output is only at eighty-nine percent.”
“Do it.”
“Sir. Lodestones activated. Shredding.”
The generators’ hum changed to a deep throb, and several minutes passed without any apparent effect. Erton made minor adjustments, trying to boost the power in the shredder room, but once a shred had been initiated, the output could not be increased significantly. He wondered if the dra’voren was too large to be shredded, and whether its bulk prevented the light guns from spinning. Then, to his relief, flickers of blue light appeared along the top of the window.
On Erton’s scanner screen, grey areas streaked the creature’s solid black bulk. The shred was taking a long time, and he feared the dra’voren might wake before it was destroyed. Glancing at the clock, he pushed the stunner button again, and another shudder ran through the floor. The blue light at the top of the window grew brighter as it ate away at the monster, shredding its form while the lodestones drew off its power. A tense silence filled the room as the beast dwindled until the window was filled with blue brilliance, and Sarjan donned his dark goggles. On the scanner screen, the blackness dwindled to remnants, and when it was a solid green, Erton switched off the light guns.
“Shred complete.”
Sarjan stared through the window as the blue light died away, his brows drawing together. A man lay on the far side of the room in an awkward huddle, his crimson-lined black cloak soaking up the pool of blood that spread from him. His legs were bent at odd angles, and jet hair hid his face.
Realisation hit Sarjan like a bucket of ice water. “It’s the mortal dra’voren.”
His second in command, Ferid, went to a console. “I’ll call a squad. We’ve only got light guns.”
“No.” Sarjan swung around. “I gave my word.”
“He’s a dra’voren!”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t break my word, to anyone.”
“Need I remind you about what happened to Commander Nikira?”
“Need I remind you that he saved us from the one who was destroying the ship?”
Ferid frowned. “What do you intend to do with him then, Commander? He’s badly injured. He won’t survive without our help. Hell, he might be dead already.”
“He hasn’t harmed us, and I swore an oath.”
“You didn’t swear to help him.”
“What if he is what he said? What if he’s good?”
“A good dra’voren?” Ferid asked in a disbelieving tone.
“He said he’s not a dra’voren. Damn it, he saved us! He helped us shred three dra’voren, and gave us a droge and a fiend to study.”
“He probably did it to gain our trust.”
Sarjan leant closer. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have him as a friend than an enemy.”
“I’d rather have him dead, Commander.”
“What if he doesn’t die? I swore not to kill him.”
“Then he can’t complain.”
Sarjan shook his head. “He saved the ship because I asked him to. I owe him. We all do. If not for him, we’d all be dead and the ship destroyed.”
“And if we save him, he may still kill us all.”
“I don’t think so.”
Sarjan went to the shredder room door and tapped in the unlock code. The door slid open, and he hesitated on the threshold, reviewing his decision as he gazed at the unconscious man who had filled him with such dread before. He was harmless now, but what would he do when he woke? Would he be grateful they had saved him or scorn Sarjan for keeping his word, as a dra’voren would? If he was dead, would the other dra’voren return and destroy the ship? What had happened to Tolrar? Had Bane lost the battle, and where had the monster that had arrived with him come from? Putting aside his misgivings, he approached Bane, crouched beside him and felt for a pulse in his neck. He glanced back at the officers who stood in the doorway.
“He’s alive. Get a medical team in here, on the double.”
“All the teams are busy with our men,” Ferid said.
“We can spare one. Now, Ferid.”
“Yes sir.”
Ferid passed the order on to the senior contech, who opened a com-link with the hospital to request a medical team. Sarjan gazed down at Bane again, wondering if he had made the right decision. Evidently the dra’voren was badly injured, for the blood that seeped through his shirt now spread from the edges of his cloak.
Chapter Six
Rescue
Drevarin stared at the image in the Eye, stunned. Bane lay in a metal room, surrounded by a pool of blood, his legs twisted. A man squatted beside him and talked to others who crowded the doorway.
“No!” Sherinias cried in a strangled voice, and clamped her hands over her mouth.
Drevarin gripped the edge of the Eye, his heart pounding as three white-garbed men entered the room carrying bags.
Sherinias lowered her hands. “Where is Father?”
Drevarin sought Kayos in the Eye, and the image changed to a different angle of the metal room. “He is there too, invisible, and he must be unconscious. I must help Bane.” He raised his voice to address the crowd. “I must leave. When the shield falls, hide in the rocks; I will lead the ships away.” He swung back to Sherinias. “Stay here and protect them.”
“I want to come with you.”
“No. You must protect Lady Mirra and Mithran. That is of the utmost importance.”
Sherinias pouted, but inclined her head. Drevarin dismissed the Eye and strode to the side of the dome, which parted like a curtain. Startled soldiers raised their weapons as he emerged, but collapsed at his gesture. The reprieve was only a temporary one, however; his sleep command would lose its efficacy as soon as he left the vicinity. Mirra hurried after him, flanked by Mithran and Grem. The refugees followed, eyeing the slumbering soldiers with apprehensive expressions.
As soon as Mirra, Mithran and Grem were safe behind an outcrop, Drevarin allowed the shield to fall, and the remaining people scattered as the ships opened fire again, felling two. Drevarin leapt into the air and flew towards the largest warship. He raised an arm, and snaking filaments of white power shot from his fingers and struck the vessel, which lurched, the hum of its engines becoming a discordant drone. Drevarin unleashed the light within him once more and swooped towards the domain. The damaged ship lost altitude
, but soon recovered, and all three turned to follow him.
Sherinias ran to the injured men and healed them, sending them to join their fellows behind the rocks as the soldiers roused and scrambled to their feet. It only took a few moments for them to get their bearings, and then they raised their weapons and resumed their pursuit of the refugees. Most of the troops went after the people who had fled into the rocks, but a few opened fire on the men Sherinias had just healed. The refugees sprinted for cover, and she marched towards the soldiers, furious.
“Stop that! Return to your city!”
The men stared at her, apparently surprised that a teenage girl would confront them in such a bold manner. Outside the domain, she could do little more than heal and fly, and she backed away when the soldiers started towards her.
“Leave this place!” she shouted. “I will not allow you to harm these people.”
The men smirked and swapped snide remarks, clearly unable to believe her capable of protecting the refugees. Indeed, it must seem like a preposterous claim, she reflected, when they did not know who or what she was. As the men closed in around her, she rose into the air. They shouted in wonder and alarm, raised their weapons and fired at her. The bolts of blue light tingled, and Sherinias unleashed a little white power to make her skin glow. Most of the soldiers who headed for the ridges turned back, drawn by the prospect of killing or capturing her. They soon realised that their blue light weapons had no effect and drew smaller weapons from holsters on their belts, which fired solid projectiles with sharp reports.
Sherinias flinched as several struck her, surprised by the stabs of pain, then flew towards the camp, drawing several dozen troopers after her. The rest continued to chase the refugees, and she leashed the light and shot back towards them, leaving the men who had been chasing her looking around in confusion for their prey, who seemed to have vanished. She landed beside a wounded man and healed him, and he fled further into the rocks.
Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain Page 10
