Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain

by Southwell, T C

  “Yes, Lord.”

  Bane rose and faced the governor. “If you find a way to vanquish Setiss before he can kill you, I shall destroy this city and kill everyone in it.”

  “You… you can’t do that!”

  “I can, and I will. You call me a destroyer, even though I am not. If you anger me sufficiently, however, I shall become one. Allow me to demonstrate.”

  The floor shivered, then trembled, the movement growing to a fairly forceful shudder. The governor blanched and gripped the back of the sofa as vibrations ran through the building, causing ornaments to fall from shelves and paintings to slide askew on the walls. A deep rumble came from outside, and Predoran gawped out of the window as a distant, partially ruined building collapsed, sending up a cloud of dust. One of the huge windows shattered and fell outwards, and dust rained down from the ceiling.

  “All right!” Predoran cried. “I’ll do as you say. Please stop this!”

  The vibrations eased and the rumble died away as Bane said, “Use your instrument to warn the people that the gate will close tomorrow. Do it now.”

  The governor went over to the communications device on the floor, keying it. “Darris, get me Major Ranjal.”

  “Yes sir,” a tinny voice replied.

  Tense seconds ticked past, and a sheen of oily sweat formed on Predoran’s brow as he waited, darting furtive glances at Bane and Setiss.

  Another voice issued from the device. “Major Ranjal here.”

  “Major, contact the press and tell them to broadcast a warning, that the Great Gate will close tomorrow, then arrange transport for anyone who wants to return to Bayona.”

  “Sir?”

  “Just do it!”

  “Yes sir.”

  Predoran straightened to face Bane. “They won’t go.”

  “That is their choice, but they must have one. Some of those who choose to stay here may very well die. Setiss, if he changes that order, kill him.”

  The demon sniggered. “With pleasure, Lord.”

  Bane went to a broken window, stepped through it and directed his power downwards, flying back to the gate. He landed just within it and strolled through the cloud gardens to the gazebo, where Kayos and Sherinias were engrossed in their Eyes. The young goddess smiled at Bane as he flopped down on a spare couch and summoned a cup of ambrosia. He wondered what they were watching. It seemed to have captured their attention utterly. After about half an hour, just as he was considering returning to Miraculous, he noticed an increase in the volume of flying traffic as quite a few large vehicles headed out of the gate.

  “It looks like the populace of the outer city has chosen to return, and Predoran has summoned more vehicles to transport his people into the domain,” he remarked.

  Kayos looked up and nodded. “Not surprising. Who would want to be left in the God Realm? Even if they can survive, it would be a grim life.” His eyes flicked down to Bane. “We should use one of these vessels when we continue our journey. It will make travelling through the God Realm safer, quicker and more comfortable. Commander Nikira is willing to offer her ship.”

  Bane scowled. “She has spoken to you about it, too?”

  “No, Drevarin told me that she asked her crew to volunteer when she reclaimed her ship.”

  “I have already refused her offer.”

  Kayos’ brows rose. “For what reason?”

  Bane hesitated, embarrassed. “She is… infatuated with me.”

  Kayos’ eyes twinkled. “Ah. And you have rejected her.”

  “Of course, but she is persistent.”

  “Her ship can convey us safely and speedily back to Myrthran once we have rescued Ashynaria, too, and I know you and Mirra long to return home. Then Nikira can go to Drevarin’s domain or return here. Sherinias will protect her.”

  Bane sighed. “I have no wish to be the object of infatuation. It is irksome and embarrassing, especially her rather heavy handed advances.”

  “Come now, Bane, you can deal with a few ardent looks and a bit of overfamiliarity, should she continue to pursue the matter.”

  “I do not like it, even so.” He raised a hand when Kayos opened his mouth. “I shall consider it.”

  “We will not be here much longer. You need to rest from the darkness before you create the wards, and I would like to spend a few days with my daughter. I still have much to teach her.” Kayos smiled at Sherinias.

  She returned it, although her eyes were sad. “I wish you could all stay, Father.”

  “Perhaps we will visit on our way back,” Bane suggested.

  “I would like that very much, My Lord.”

  Bane dismissed his cup and rose to his feet. “I will be aboard Miraculous.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Favour

  Bane glanced up as Tryne stepped from the air a few feet away, raised his snowy wings and bowed. Mirra gasped and Drevarin looked around, his expression becoming shuttered. Bane had returned from the gazebo only half an hour earlier, to tell Mirra and Drevarin what had happened, and had been contemplating the happy prospect of casting out the dark power again once he had closed the dark realm’s world gate. Angels, it seemed, had a knack for popping out of the woodwork at the most inopportune moments. The hum of conversation from the refugees continued undisturbed, from which Bane deduced that only he, Mirra and Drevarin could see the angel.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Tryne.”

  “Lord. I regret my intrusion. I wish to redeem one of the favours you owe me.”

  “Now is not a good time.”

  “Unfortunately, it is urgent, Lord; a matter of life and death.”

  “What is it?” Bane asked, curious despite his reluctance.

  “Demons have abducted a priestess of Pretarin and taken her to the Underworld, using an ancient Fetch. She is a member of one of the few cults that still exist in this world. She prayed to Pretarin to save her.”

  Mirra gazed at the angel with a rapt expression, and Bane knew she found them awe inspiring, even though Kayos dismissed them as a nuisance, meddlers who sometimes did more harm than good. He remembered his experience with Syrin all too well. So far, Tryne had not been as annoying, and he wondered if that was about to change now that the domain’s urgent issues had been addressed and he had time to grant favours.

  “I require a name, or a face, in order to find her,” he said.

  “I can provide a face.”

  “How so? You cannot go below.”

  Tryne shook his head. “When I heard her prayer and followed it, I witnessed her abduction. Not only did I see her face, I also know where the Fetch is.”

  Bane shrugged. “So?”

  “If it remains, the demons will use it to abduct more innocents.”

  “I do not know if anyone in this world can be called innocent, except perhaps this priestess and others like her, but if you want me to close it, it will cost you another favour.”

  Mirra poked him. “Bane!”

  “What?”

  “Is it so hard to close a Fetch?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “So you are just being difficult.”

  “I am granting the favours he has earned. There are undoubtedly many Fetches in this domain, being used for the same purpose, and hundreds of people being tortured by demons every day. I do not want to spend days closing them, and besides, they will all be sealed when the wards are created.”

  She sighed and gazed at the angel again, who watched her with a hopeful expression that faded when Bane turned to him and asked, “So? Do you want it closed?”

  Tryne inclined his head. “Yes, Lord; as another favour.”

  Bane beckoned. “You will need to come closer for me to take this priestess’ face from your memory.”

  Tryne approached and knelt at Bane’s feet, displaying the strange fearlessness angels gained once they had touched him and learnt the truth about him. Bane placed his hand on the angel’s bowed head, allowing his memories to rush in.

  A slim, middle
-aged woman with dark eyes and hair, clad in a long white robe, struggled in the grip of two brawny, bald thugs wearing silver-studded black leather outfits comprising many straps and buckles, gold chains around their necks and rings in their noses and ears. The demon deviants dragged the kicking, screaming woman into a rundown house on a dingy street, and the door slammed behind them.

  Bane lifted his hand, and the angel rose and stepped back, going behind him to gaze into the Eye. Bane refocused it on the Underworld, searching for the unfortunate priestess. After several moments, an image formed of a vast chamber, its striated stone walls moulded and solidified in the midst of oozing by whatever dark god had created it. Its glassy black floor and the evil designs on its walls told him that it was close to the surface of the Underworld, most probably used as a torture chamber for humans, who would not survive in the searing heat and noxious fumes of the dark realm’s deeper caverns. In chambers such as this, dark gods watched their minions torment people, and evidently the demons had continued to practice their depravities.

  Dozens of demons, some in man form, bent or crouched over writhing victims, most of whom were women and children, their faces twisted with terror and pain, mouths open in soundless screams. A lot of them were naked, while a few still wore dirty rags. Rotting corpses and skeletons were piled against the far side of the chamber, and four torches on the walls lighted the scene with garish radiance. A brown trickle down a crumbling wall fed a pool of black water that he did not doubt was too foul to drink, although the prisoners would be forced to do so if they lived long enough.

  The priestess he had seen in Tryne’s memory struggled in the grip of the same two thugs, one of whom burnt her neck with fiery fingers as he caressed her like a lover, grinning. The other demon ripped her robe apart with slow deliberation, while she appeared to be shouting at them, her face twisted with hatred and rage. She certainly had a lot of pluck for a priestess, Bane mused. Under the old-fashioned robe, she wore a white trouser suit and flat-heeled boots, an odd garb for a priestess, but then, nothing about this domain or its people was quite as it should be. Bane waved the Eye out of existence before Mirra caught more than a glimpse of the scene in it.

  Tryne returned to stand in front of Bane and tilted his head, his expression enquiring. “Will you help them, Lord?”

  “All of them? I thought you only wanted to save the priestess?”

  “I was not aware of the others. I ask that you save them all.”

  Bane grunted. “Big favour. That lot will fight to keep their victims.”

  “Against you, Lord?”

  “Perhaps. They went to a lot of trouble to capture those people, luring them into traps or abducting them off the streets and transporting them to that abandoned house. They will not be pleased to lose them, and they know I am unlikely to destroy them. It is far easier to dismiss them. I have been attacked by demons before, although they were under the command of a dark god. For all we know, these could be, too, though. Tolrar and Scryon’s commands have not lost their potency simply because they are cast down, any more than mine do when I cast out the darkness. Rescuing the priestess would be easy, but saving all of them will take time, since I cannot Move that many simultaneously, and once I start the demons will try to kill those I have to leave behind.”

  Tryne lowered his eyes. “I ask that you save as many as you can, Lord.”

  Bane nodded, and the angel turned and stepped into the air. Mirra met his eyes with an anguished gaze.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “You have already been through so much. I thought you would be able to rest for a while, and now this.”

  “They are only demons.”

  Her smile was weak and clearly forced. “I know they are a threat to you. I have seen them injure you on more than one occasion.”

  He took her hands. “I will be all right. I can deal with a few demons, do not worry.”

  “Please be careful. All it will take is a well-aimed spear in your back, like before, and you could die down there.”

  “Kayos watches over me almost constantly, like a broody hen with a brain-damaged chick, and Drevarin will be watching, too. I am sure they will come to my rescue, should I need it.”

  “Even so, it takes but a moment… It is dangerous.”

  He hugged her, bowing his head to kiss her hair. “The only other option is to deny Tryne his favour and let those people die.”

  “I would not ask you to do that, but do not underestimate demons.”

  “I will not make that mistake again. I will return soon.”

  Drevarin looked up. “The best place to take those people would be a hospital.”

  “That would cause something of a stir,” Bane pointed out.

  “But it would also show that you are helping people.”

  “I do not really care what they think anymore. I have given up trying to prove myself. Why should I? No matter what I do, they see evil in it. They will probably think I took those people in the first place.”

  “The people you save will not, though,” the light god said.

  “Then they will say I commanded the demons to take them and torture them.”

  “If you had, why would you rescue them?”

  Bane shrugged. “To make them think I am not evil?”

  “Even after they see you fight the demons to free them?”

  “They will dismiss that as a false display to dupe them.”

  Drevarin sighed and inclined his head. “You are probably right.”

  Bane rose and walked away before he Moved. He rematerialised in the gloomy chamber, turning to scan it. The sensations that had been missing from the Eye rushed in, stifling heat, screams and a nauseating stench. Demons in man form raped women and tortured men, fire demons in true form burnt children. Dozens more men were chained to the walls, forced to watch. The demons had abducted whole families, and sniggered at the helpless husbands who shouted insults in a vain attempt to protect their wives and children by making the demons angry enough to torture them instead. Insults did not anger demons, however; the men’s verbal abuse only amused them. This was the sort of sport demons enjoyed the most, although tormenting people in the mid realm, disguised as family members or loved ones, was also high on their list of entertainment. Many took one look at Bane and fled, and he gestured at the rest.

  “Begone!”

  The remaining demons slumped into piles of soil or vanished in flares of foul fire, while air demons simply ceased to be, and a water demon collapsed into a pool of vile liquid. The presence of a water demon was somewhat surprising, as they were rare, and usually did not leave their element. They were the cause of many shipping accidents and had their sport with people who frequented the sea or lakes. Perhaps in this domain, with its flying transport, they had been forced to seek sport on land due to a lack of accessible targets in their element.

  Bane surveyed the prisoners, most of whom had purer spirits than most he had encountered in this domain, except for several droges, whose more diffuse, dark red souls made them easy to spot. The fact that some were victims was no surprise, and a few furtive droges, former torturers, crept towards a door in the far wall, apparently hoping to escape his notice. Whoever the demons and droges who used the chamber served, the droge victims belonged to another dark god and were therefore fair game. The droge torturers raced for the exit when they realised that they had been spotted, bellowing in alarm. Bane spoke the harsh, whispery words that rescinded their forms, and they collapsed into pools of grey sludge with despairing wails. He doubted that the droge victims would thank him for sending them below again, however. While he had released them from their pain, he had also consigned them to the Land of the Dead until a dark god granted them another form, if that ever happened.

  The human prisoners crawled towards each other and huddled together, staring at him with white-ringed eyes in dirty, tear-streaked faces. The priestess regarded him with shock, horror and loathing, being the only one who see
med to know what he was. She clasped her hands to pray again, probably now to be saved from him. Little did the others know that they owed their redemption to her faith, even if her god was dead. Bane summoned a fire demon, and men cowered, the women and children whimpering when the demon emerged from one of the smoky torches and bowed to Bane.

  “Lord,” it said in a grating hiss.

  “Jentaru. I am the Demon Lord. Provide light, and go and stand over there.” He gestured to the far side of the room.

  The demon became a pillar of flame, brightening the chamber considerably, and moved away from the filthy wretches who blinked and squinted at it, then Bane. In the additional light, he made out a cage against the wall beside him, in which a dozen children clung to each other in a weeping group. He went over to it and touched the bars, and the black metal oozed into pools on the floor. The children ran to men and women in the crowd, who embraced them with glad cries. Three youngsters remained, staring at Bane with wide, scared eyes. They had undoubtedly watched their parents tortured to death.

  “I am here to free you,” he told the prisoners. “Stand up, if you can, and gather in groups of twenty in the centre of the chamber. Help those who cannot walk.”

  “Do not believe him!” the priestess cried. “He is a dark god! He lies! He will take you somewhere horrible, or kill you!”

  Bane cursed under his breath and muttered, “Here we go again.” He raised his voice to address the throng. “I am not going to harm you. There is not much time. If you remain here the demons will return and kill you.”

  “You are the darkness!” the priestess shouted. “Lord Pretarin will cast you down!”

  “Pretarin is dead.”

  “You killed him! You have doomed us all!”

  Bane shook his head, annoyed, but schooled himself to patience. “No, I did not.”

  “I know what you are. I can see it! You use the shadows!”