Demon Lord VI - Son of Chaos

by T C Southwell

  “You can’t disturb them now,” she stated.

  “We need Drevarin’s help.”

  “Come back later.”

  Nikira walked closer. “That’s not for you to say.”

  “Bane will punish you.”

  Sarrin clicked her tongue. “Enough, Ethra. Bane would not hurt anyone, and you know it.”

  Nikira stopped beside the old priestess, raising her brows in surprise. “He wouldn’t?”

  Ethra shot Sarrin a glare. “He’ll be angry with you.”

  “I am not afraid of him.”

  Nikira sat down at their table. “How well do you know him?”

  “Well enough to know that he would not harm anyone unless they tried to harm him first. Like Frendar, and he was upset about that.”

  “Who’s Frendar?”

  “A child god who tried to imprison and torment us. When we left, he tried to kill Bane, and he thinks he might have slain him by accident. Anyone stupid enough to attack Bane should know they could be slain by his defences.”

  “So you don’t think his threat to kill me is real?”

  Sarrin snorted. “If he threatened that, he was playing with you, probably to punish you.”

  “Which you richly deserve,” Ethra added, then glared at Sarrin again. “If she tells him, he’ll be angry with you.”

  The priestess shrugged. “Not for long.”

  “He stopped me from breathing,” Nikira said.

  “Then you must have angered him, and he was trying to frighten you.”

  “It worked.”

  “Of course it did, foolish girl,” Sarrin scoffed. “That is why you must treat him with the utmost respect. Ethra is far too brash with him. I think one day he will put her over his knee and spank her like the silly child she is.”

  “He wouldn’t!” Ethra exclaimed.

  “Of course he would.”

  “No he wouldn’t!”

  Sarrin turned to Nikira. “You have nothing to fear from Bane. He will try to frighten you, that is all.”

  “That is not quite correct, Sarrin.” Bane opened his eyes and sat up, the ropes of power fading as Drevarin sighed and yawned.

  Ethra shot her a smug glance, and Sarrin bowed her head. “I am sorry, Lord.”

  “I have no intention of hurting anyone, but that does not mean it is a good idea to annoy me.”

  Nikira stood up, a spurt of intense relief washing through her at the possibility that he was not as bad as he seemed. “Your threats were a bluff then?”

  His eyes impaled her. “Not quite. You deserve to be punished, and unless you do as I say, I will see to it that you are. Do not doubt me.”

  She lowered her gaze to her boots. “Yes, Lord. I -”

  The ship lurched, and the soft hum of the engines rose to a whine as the floor tilted, throwing Nikira across the table and scattering the game counters onto the floor. She landed at Bane’s feet with a grunt as he glanced around in alarm. Scrambling away from him, she turned to Drevarin.

  “Please, shield the ship; we’re in a dark region!”

  Drevarin looked vague, and, when his eyes regained their focus, the ship stabilised.

  Nikira tried to rise to her feet, then yelped and flung herself backwards as something shot up through the floor next to her. It moved too swiftly for her to get a good look at it, darting towards Bane, who stepped aside, swatting at it, but his hand passed right through it. Drevarin leapt up as it flew at him, flinging himself out of the way in the nick of time.

  “Wraiths!”

  Bane swayed backwards as the wraith flew at his face, and it missed again. Two more shot from the floor, their forms like ragged black lace, translucent and featureless. Ethra screamed and ducked as one swooped at her, and Bane spread his arms. The temperature dropped several degrees, and Nikira gasped as darkness rose from the shadows beneath the tables and under the curtains. It poured into him like black smoke, and he pointed at the wraith that had just missed Ethra. A filament of darkness spat from his finger and struck the shadowy creature, which vanished in a puff of ash and with a soft wail.

  Mirra jumped up and ran to kneel beside Bane, Mithran and Grem followed with drawn swords. They stood over her and tried to spot the flitting wraiths that darted towards them, ducking and slashing at them. Bane had to leap back to avoid an ill-aimed slash of Grem’s weapon, and glared at the warrior, who looked contrite.

  “Get down!” Bane shouted.

  Grem crouched beside Mirra and pulled Mithran down next to him. Bane spun and sent a lash of black power at another wraith, which vanished like the first. A dozen more shot up from the floor, several of which attacked Nikira, the rest swooped at Ethra and Sarrin. Bane continued to Gather, sending the dark power forth in swathes of shadow that turned the creatures into clouds of black ash. Mithran yelled and slashed at a wraith that swooped at him, but it struck an invisible barrier and rebounded, fluttering away, and Bane burnt it to ash with a lash of power.

  Drevarin formed a shining shield and batted at the wraiths that flew at him, sending them tumbling away. Ethra and Sarrin clung to each other, their faces stiff with terror, and Nikira crawled towards them. A wraith landed on her leg, and she screamed as cold enveloped her. She tried to smack it away, but her hands passed through it and its chill bit into her fingers like needles of ice. Even though her hands grew numb with each blow, she pounded at the little monster in a futile, hysterical bid to rid herself of it, its frigid touch sucking the warmth from her flesh.

  A bolt of dark power burnt the creature and sent a wave of nausea through her. Despite the sickening effect, she was grateful for Bane’s help. He destroyed the wraiths with negligent flicks of his hands, each streak of shadow striking its target with unerring accuracy. Nikira reached Sarrin and crouched beside her, examining the ugly red welt on her leg, which burnt with frost bite. Within a few minutes all the creatures were destroyed, leaving behind a settling cloud of ash.

  “My crew!” Nikira said.

  “Stay close to me,” Bane ordered.

  Taking Mirra’s hand, he pulled her to her feet and strode to the door, his cloak flaring. Mithran and Grem followed, sheathing their useless swords. Ethra and Sarrin scrambled up and ran after him. Nikira glanced around for more of the horrible creatures as she trotted to catch up, Drevarin bringing up the rear. Bane marched to the lift and they crowded into it, Drevarin sprinting in as the doors closed. Bane bent to murmur to Mirra, who nodded.

  As Bane stepped onto the bridge, he sent a swathe of dark power across it with a wave of his hand, and four wraiths turned to ash with soft wails. Most of the bridge crew huddled beside their consoles, but two officers lay on the floor, their faces pale, and the pilot bellowed into the intercom for guards. Bane re-entered the lift, thrusting Nikira back when she tried to get past him.

  “Stay with me, or die.” He pushed the down button.

  “But my crew!”

  “You can do nothing for them.”

  Nikira huddled at the back of the lift and rubbed her arm where he had gripped it. When the doors opened, Bane led them into another bright corridor, stepping over a dead crewman. He headed for the observation room, his long strides forcing the women to trot. Drevarin kept pace, his shield dangling from one fist.

  In the observation room, alarms beeped and brayed in a raucous cacophony. Montar and another man cringed against the far wall, staring at a wraith that enveloped the third member of the observation crew. He thrashed on the floor, making horrible choking sounds. Bane pointed at it, and the filament of power that spat from his finger turned the foul creature to ash. The man sagged with a groan, and Nikira ran to crouch beside him.

  “He will live,” Bane said. “Come, there are more who will not if we do not hurry.”

  Nikira jumped up and hurried after him as he turned and headed for the door. Drevarin fell into step beside him in the corridor outside.

  “These things seem to feed on life force,” he muttered.

  Bane glanced at him. “Yo
u have seen them before?”

  “On my travels through the God Realm, I encountered a flock in a dark region. They attacked, but my shields kept them at bay.”

  “That would explain why so many attacked us. We have the strongest life force here.”

  Drevarin nodded. “They will be attracted to crowds.”

  “The hold.” Bane cursed and quickened his pace, entered the lift at the end of the corridor and hit the button. “I could move faster without these encumbrances.”

  “I can protect them.”

  “Good.”

  Bane strode out as the doors opened, and Drevarin grabbed Mirra when she tried to dart past in pursuit.

  “You stay with me.”

  She looked up with a mutinous expression, then lowered her eyes in reluctant capitulation when she met his stern gaze. “Yes, Lord.”

  Nikira turned to Drevarin. “We should go to the main security station, where we can see all the rooms on the ship.”

  “Take us there.”

  They followed her back into the lift, which rose several floors before the doors opened to reveal yet another featureless corridor identical to the one they had just left. The ship’s grey and black décor was functional and aesthetically pleasing, but monotonous. Nikira ran down the passage to a room filled with banks of vidscreens, where four security operators shouted instructions into various intercoms, warning people of wraiths. Silencing them with a curt command, she glanced around at the screens.

  “Report.”

  “They’re in number two dining room, the recreation room on deck four, the guards’ barracks on deck eight, and the hold,” the senior security officer said.

  Nikira found the screen that showed the hold and studied it, waiting for Bane to appear. The refugees ran about in a blind panic, seven wraiths pursuing them, two more crouched over writhing victims. Dozens of people hammered on the doors, begging to be let out. The guards outside followed the standard security protocol, which stated that if a catastrophe befell one area of the ship, it should not be allowed to spread. They would have no idea what the situation was inside, and clearly had no wish to find out by opening the door and possibly releasing whatever was causing the ruckus. To them, it must have sounded like a riot.

  Drevarin turned to Mirra. “My Lady, kindly tell Bane where they are.”

  The girl bowed her head and clasped her hands, and Nikira gasped as Bane strode into the hold through the wall. Some of the refugees spotted him and surged towards him, shouting his name.

  Bane raised his arms. “Get down!”

  They flung themselves to the floor as black fire blazed over their heads, annihilating the wraiths. Bane moved into the midst of the cowering people, who crawled from his path. He killed the last two wraiths with bursts of shadow, then swung away and vanished through the wall again.

  Nikira realised that her mouth was open and closed it. “He can walk through walls?”

  “Naturally.” Drevarin’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “As can I.”

  “You’re a creator.”

  “He is more powerful than I.”

  Nikira’s eyes widened as Bane rose through the floor of number two mess hall. Almost twenty crewmembers had been dining in it, and four wraiths flew around it, chasing fleeing men and women. One had settled upon a thrashing victim, who coughed and gurgled as it sucked out his life. Streaks of black fire shot from Bane’s hands to consume the wraiths, then he sank back into the floor. He reappeared in the barracks two decks below, where soldiers fought a futile battle with the incorporeal wraiths, strafing them with blue light.

  Once more, Bane sent shadows sweeping across the room, ignoring the guards’ shouts of alarm at his sudden appearance. Although many aimed their weapons at him, none fired, to her relief. Bane sank into the floor again, and Nikira turned her attention to the screen that showed the recreation room on deck four, waiting for him to appear. Moments later he entered through the wall and unleashed a burst of darkness that slew the three feeding wraiths. Then he paused, frowning at the bodies of five men. Twenty survivors hid amongst the chairs and recreation equipment, fifteen of them clutching useless light guns. They gaped at Bane, and two of them raised their weapons.

  Nikira slapped the intercom. “Hold your fire!”

  The men jumped and lowered their guns, glancing up at the camera in the corner of the room.

  Drevarin chuckled. “They cannot harm him.”

  “That, I know. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to annoy him.”

  “True.”

  Nikira scanned the screens for more wraiths, but found none, even when she checked all the secondary screens, which showed crews’ quarters and kitchens. Satisfied, she touched an intercom key that opened a ship-wide channel and addressed the entire crew. “Secops, stand down. The attack appears to be over. Report any sighting immediately. Dispatch medical teams to number two dining room, the recreation room on deck four, the guards’ barracks on deck eight, and the hold. Second ops shift, report to the bridge on the double.”

  Bane wandered out of the recreation room, using the door this time, the dazed men and women staring after him.

  “I must go to the bridge,” Nikira said.

  Drevarin inclined his head, gesturing to the door.

  When Nikira arrived on the bridge, a rescue crew was zipping the two bodies into plastic bags. The pilot sat white-faced at his console, staring into the middle distance with blank eyes.

  “Report,” she ordered.

  He turned to her. “The ship is stopped, Commander. I thought it best until the danger was past. We’re also short two ops.”

  “Another crew is coming.” She activated the intercom to the observation room. “Montar, have you still got that... thing on the scanners?”

  “Yes, Commander, it’s stopped ahead.”

  “Good.”

  Nikira sank down on a chair, her legs shaking. The pilot had resumed his blank stare, and would probably need to see the doctor before he was fit for duty again.

  “What stopped the attack, Commander?” the surviving navigation officer asked.

  She turned to him. “Drevarin’s shield, I think.”

  “Thank goodness for him.”

  “He wasn’t the one who killed them. If not for the tar’merin, we’d all be dead.” Nikira wondered where she had heard those words before, then recalled that Ethra had said almost exactly the same thing.

  “But if not for Drevarin’s shield, they’d have kept coming.”

  “I think the tar’merin could have shielded us just as well, if I’d asked him to.”

  The officer looked down at his control panel and muttered, “If not for him, we’d be safe at base now.”

  “If we hadn’t captured him...” She clasped her aching head. “We only have ourselves to blame for this.”

  The two traumatised men left when relief crew arrived, and the new pilot set the ship in motion, whereupon Montar reported that the dark creature was moving ahead again. Nikira slumped in her chair, dazed by the horror of the attack, and how close they had come to disaster. When her exhaustion became acute several hours later, she left the bridge and went to her cabin to try to get some rest.

  ***

  Nikira glanced around as the lift doors opened, then jumped up when Bane entered, followed by Drevarin. The bridge crew eyed the dark god, who approached Nikira and stopped in front of her. She gazed up at him, dreading that he would insist she perform her humiliating prostration in front of her crew. His gaze roamed the bridge and came to rest upon the main screen, which showed a dull grey and brown landscape rushing at them beneath a dark, yellow-tinged sky.

  “Is the ship invisible?”

  “No, Lord. At this speed -”

  “Make it so.”

  Nikira turned to the pilot. “Slow to one quarter.”

  “Yes, Commander.” The woman tapped her keyboard, and the hum of the engines softened.

  Nikira addressed the officer beside her. “Enter stealth mode.�
�

  He ran his hands over the control panels in front of him, and the engines’ hum changed to a deep throbbing. Bane gazed at the screen, where the landscape now drifted towards them at a leisurely pace. Nikira wondered what was going to happen, but did not dare to ask. An alarm beeped, making her start. Her comscreen lighted, and Montar’s worried visage filled it.

  “Commander, there’s a dra’voren dead ahead. The scanners just picked him up.”

  “Stop the ship.”

  “No,” Bane murmured. “Go closer.”

  Nikira nodded to the pilot, and the ship continued to drift forwards. An op silenced the alarm, and a moment later, Montar cried, “There are seven of them! No, wait... six fiends, it looks like, and another of those creatures.”

  “A demon hound,” Bane supplied.

  “There’s something else too... a sphere of some sort. It’s... it’s made from white power.”

  Nikira glanced at Bane. “Is that Kayos?”

  Bane nodded, gazing at the screen, but they were too far away for the entities on the scanners to be visible yet. Time dragged past with unbelievable sluggishness, the tension on the bridge growing thicker with each passing minute. Nikira was tempted to zoom the camera in so they could see the beings ahead, but decided that it might alarm Bane. He probably needed to know how far away they really were, not the false impression of a zoom lens.

  “How can you tell the difference between gods and demons with these scanners of yours?” Bane’s soft voice made her jump, for she had been too engrossed in the screen’s image to notice him move closer to her, and his proximity made her shiver.

  “Fiends are grey, dra’voren are black, because fiends are far less powerful.” Like you, she wanted to add, but did not dare. Realising that she had omitted his title yet again, she added, “Lord.”

  The Demon Lord studied the landscape on the screen, then his eyes became intent as distant figures appeared, and Nikira stared at them in horror. Six massive fire demons stood like burning sentinels a short distance from a shadow hound, which sat facing a tall, crimson-clad man. The figures were too small to make out any details, and she held her breath as the ship drifted closer. A few minutes later, a shimmering silver sphere became visible next to the dra’voren, who waved something that shone like a star over it.