Demon Lord V - God Realm

by T C Southwell

  The longer he fought and the more tired he got, the more he wondered why he did not simply retreat into the solid wall of white power that would protect him utterly and indefinitely, unless Torvaran could open it. That was the concern that kept him from doing it, and he was starting to wonder if Bane was ever going to show up. Surely enough time had passed now for him to have recovered? He refused to believe that Bane had abandoned him, which could only mean that something else had befallen him. If he was dead, it boded ill. Another bolt of dark power made his body shields blaze blue and caused him to stagger sideways, and Kayos decided that he had had enough. Time to find out if Torvaran really could open his shields, and to get some much needed sleep.

  Kayos ducked between two earth demons and sprinted from the fray, walls of white power rising behind him to block the bolts that Torvaran hurled at his back. He headed for a lighter region, where the clouds were still grey and there were fewer shadows. There he turned to face Torvaran and the horde of demons that pursued him, their speed a match for his.

  In the second before they reached him, he raised his arms, and a glimmering sphere of white fire spread from his fingertips. A blazing network of curved lines encased him in a cage of light, laying the foundations of a light god's last line of defence. Its structure was similar to that of a domain's boundary wards, through which nothing could pass.

  The lines multiplied as they spun around him in an ever stronger web of fire, and the first demons to reach him crumbled as they struck it. He stared through the closing wall at Torvaran, who watched him with a slight, cynical smile. The lines joined, forming a solid barrier between him and his foes, and a final shield encased it, sealing him off from the God Realm.

  The sphere pulsed several times, then dimmed, becoming solid, and he lowered his arms. Sinking down on the smooth curving floor, he bowed his head. He longed for sleep, but before he did, he wanted to find out what had happened to Bane. Wearily he gestured, and an Eye formed before him. It swirled with random colour for a several moments as he sought Bane within it, then an image formed.

  Kayos stared at it with shock and horror, his heart sinking as he studied the metal room in which the Demon Lord lay imprisoned, noting his injuries. Bane's eyes opened, and Kayos recoiled with an oath. Touching the edge of the Eye, he adjusted its focus, moving through the wall to a larger room beyond, where men sat before complex boards filled with multi-coloured light. He cursed the meddlesome nature of men and their inability to see Bane for what he truly was.

  While he applauded their ingenuity and bravery, in this instance the ramifications could be dire. He wondered why Bane could not free himself, but did not doubt that he was indeed trapped. Had his captors injured and blinded him, or someone else? He sagged against the wall, gazing at the image. Becoming aware of the ominous silence outside, he listened intently. A dark god should be hammering upon the impregnable sphere in a rage of frustration.

  Shrugging it off for the moment, Kayos expanded the image until the entire ship came into view, drifting through an area of mottled blueness shot with flashes of fire. He moved the Eye ahead of it, seeking its destination. The image changed to impenetrable darkness, then cleared. A black river passed below, and just beyond it was a massive blue fire dome. Within its transparent walls lay a fantastic city of towering glass spires filled with light, flying vehicles weaving between them.

  Beyond that, a cliff of black rock rose into the hazy sky, swallowed up by darkness above and on either side. A second, smaller fire dome was built at the base of the cliff, just under an open Realm Gate. Kayos studied at it in confusion, for white light poured from it, indicating that the domain was intact, and therefore must be in the charge of a light god. No god would allow the Realm Gate to stand open, however, stripping his domain of its defence. A stream of flying vehicles passed through the Gate and vanished into the light realm within, something a god would not allow either. The people who had captured Bane were strange indeed, and so, it seemed, was their god. Kayos frowned at the image, his mind racing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Summoning

  Nikira put aside the word recorder she had been making a report on and looked up as a lingtech entered her office and saluted.

  "What is it?"

  "That group of people you asked me to keep an eye on, they've been muttering a lot, apparently to no one in particular, and on their knees, which seemed strange, so I translated what they were saying."

  "And?"

  He frowned. "It appears that they were performing an ancient ritual known as prayer."

  "Go on."

  "First they prayed to someone called Demon Lord, begging his help and praising his name. Several hours later, they did it again, this time to someone called Kayos."

  "What exactly did they say?"

  He pulled a recorder from his pocket and consulted it. "Help us, great Lord Kayos, praised be your name; the Demon Lord is in dire peril. He is imprisoned by foolish men." He looked up. "They repeated that many times."

  Nikira nodded. "Good work. Dismissed."

  After the lingtech left, she stared at her desk, her mind whirling. They were brainwashed, that was the only explanation, but why did they pray to a light god for aid to free a dra'voren? Unless the prisoner had lied, and Kayos was another dra'voren, and so was this Demon Lord. The prospect of two more dra'voren coming to the aid of the one in the shredder room filled her with excitement and dread. If they could be trapped and shredded, it would be a major victory, but they would also be a grave danger to her ship. She activated the communication screen beside her, and her second in command, Donavan, appeared on it.

  "Put the ship into stealth mode," she ordered.

  He hesitated. "Commander, that'll be a huge power drain while we're moving."

  "I'm aware of that, but we might come under attack if we don't."

  "By whom?"

  "Two more dra'voren. Our passengers have been calling for help."

  His brows shot up. "Why the hell would they do that?"

  "They're brainwashed."

  "Shouldn't we stop and trap them then?"

  "Are we in communication range of the base?"

  He looked down at his board, running his hands over it. "Just barely."

  "Tell them to send another ship to this area."

  "Right."

  Nikira deactivated the screen and sat back. Could the dra'voren track them with these prayers, like a homing beacon? If so, Sarrin and her friends had to be stopped. She activated the communication screen again and contacted a lingtech, ordering him to meet her in the hold where the refugees were housed. The lingtech met her at the door, and she entered the hold in search of Sarrin's group. She found it in the same place as before, and the members looked up with smiles when she approached. The men stood and bowed as she squatted down before Sarrin, Mirra and Ethra, returning their smiles a little stiffly.

  "Tell them they must stop praying."

  The lingtech consulted his translator, then spoke to Sarrin, who looked surprised and exclaimed in delight.

  "What did she say?" Nikira demanded.

  "That she's very happy we can now speak her language."

  "Repeat the order."

  When the lingtech did, Sarrin looked confused, as did the others. She spoke a single word, and the lingtech said, "She wants to know why."

  "Because she's endangering us."

  After another brief exchange, the lingtech said, "She wants to know how calling upon a light god for aid could endanger you."

  "Tell her I know things that she doesn't, and she must stop."

  "She wants to know what things."

  "Just ask her if she'll stop."

  The lingtech translated, and Sarrin nodded.

  Nikira stood up. "Thank her."

  Leaving the lingtech to deal with Sarrin's questions, Nikira returned to her office, where she found her communications screen beeping for attention. She activated it, and Enyo's broad visage filled it.

  "I think
you should come down here."

  Nikira hurried to the containment room, her heart hammering with a strange mixture of trepidation and concern. Enyo turned from his console when she strode in, his expression grim.

  "He's deteriorating."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean he's dehydrated and starving, commander. He's been lying on that table for five days now, with no food or water. A few minutes ago he slipped into a coma."

  "Can we feed him intravenously?"

  "We don't know if that's safe."

  She walked over to the observation window. "I thought he was the same as us."

  "In many ways, but not all. He started going downhill quite suddenly a couple of hours ago, so I analysed his body chemistry. It's not the same as ours, but the difference is subtle. What really disturbs me is that I found triphasel virene in his system. Jonar confirmed it."

  "What's that?"

  He hesitated, and then came to stand beside her. "You're not going to believe this, but it's a derivative of the white power."

  "Pardon?"

  "It's one of the elements found in the white power, exceedingly rare, and usually a liquid."

  She stared at him. "How the hell did it get in him?"

  "I don't know. The only way I can think of, although I hate to say it, is that he ate a creator, or part of one. Drank his blood perhaps?"

  Nikira swallowed hard. "Do we know that this triphasel stuff is found in creators?"

  "Not exactly. We can only assume, since they use and live off the white power, that they do."

  She shuddered, rubbing her arms as a chill washed over her. "That's horrible."

  "I know. Should we let him die?"

  "No. We're close to base, and we've brought him this far. Let's leave it up to the leaders."

  "So what do we do?"

  "We know he drinks water. Would it help if we gave him intravenous fluid?"

  He shrugged. "A little, but it wouldn't do much good for long. If the leaders want to keep him alive to examine, we'll have to find something that will sustain him."

  "Those people who were with him might know." Nikira rubbed her brow. "They must have seen him eat, and he couldn't live on the blood of creators. There aren't enough of them, and they can't be that easy to kill. Send a lingtech down to ask them."

  Enyo nodded and went to relay the message while Nikira gazed at the dra'voren with a mixture of loathing and sadness.

  Enyo returned to her side. "I've made another interesting discovery."

  "Is there no end to them?"

  "Apparently not."

  "What's this one?"

  He nodded at the dra'voren. "He's generating some sort of field."

  "What sort?"

  "I don't know. Like nothing I've ever seen before. Completely inert and harmless, but it encompasses several metres all around him."

  "Radiation?"

  "No, more like a weird brain wave field, hard to describe." He shook his head. "Telepathy perhaps, or telekinesis."

  "He said he could hurt us with his mind, but I thought that only worked in short bursts."

  "Well, since they're both only theoretical, we have no idea."

  The communication screen beeped, and Enyo answered it, returning a minute later. "Apparently he eats ordinary food, and something they call god food."

  "Creators' blood?"

  "Probably. They're also pretty upset that we haven't been feeding him."

  "Set up a drip."

  Jonar was summoned to attach the new drip to the unconscious dra'voren while Enyo monitored the bio scanner. As the medtech left the shredder room, Enyo swung around with a frown.

  "Take it off."

  Jonar's brows shot up. "It's only -"

  "Take it off now. It's having an adverse effect, he's going down faster."

  Jonar removed the drip, and Nikira frowned at Enyo. "If that didn't work, how the hell are we going to feed him?"

  "The old fashioned way?"

  "Yeah, right. Who's going to volunteer to get close enough to him to feed him?"

  Enyo shrugged. "He's unconscious."

  "What if he wakes up while someone's in there with him? He'll have to be released from the table, otherwise he'll choke."

  "I'm sure not doing it."

  "What about one of his slaves?" Jonar suggested. "They're not afraid of him."

  Enyo nodded. "Good idea."

  Nikira stood irresolute for a moment, then grimaced. "We don't seem to have a choice. I'm not endangering one of my crewmen, and perhaps he won't harm his own slave. Bring the girl and fetch some soup."

  The soup arrived first, and the plastic bowl stood steaming incongruously on a console until a lingtech arrived with the wide-eyed girl. As soon as she entered the containment room, she spotted the dra'voren on the other side of the glass and jerked free of her guide to run across the room and press herself to the window.

  "Bane!" She swung around, her brows knotted. "What have you done to him?"

  Nikira gaped at her. "You can speak our language?"

  "No! He's doing it. Everyone can understand each other in his presence. He's a god. Why is he sick? Why is he tied to a table? Let him go!" She flew at Nikira, her fists raised, and Enyo grabbed her before she reached her target. "Let me go! You're hurting him! He's a god! You can't do this to him!"

  "Calm down, Ethra," Nikira said. "We're going to let him go, and we need you to feed him."

  "Why? Are you afraid of him?"

  "Yes."

  "You're a fool! He's good!"

  "All right, calm down. We want you to look after him. Will you do that?" Nikira held out the bowl of soup.

  Ethra took it and sniffed it, pulling a face. "Foul slops! I wouldn't feed this to pigs! Sarrin will cook for him."

  Nikira frowned at the contents of the bowl, a semi clear broth with a pleasant meaty smell. "This will have to do for now."

  Ethra glared at her. "What you're doing is wrong!"

  "Okay." Nikira agreed, refusing to be drawn into a debate with the brainwashed child, but filled with pity for her misguided loyalty to the monster in the shredder room. Instead, she ignored Ethra's fierce-eyed challenge and signalled to the enforcers by the door. It slid open, and Ethra ran inside. She put the bowl down on the floor and stood beside the dra'voren, her expression desolate and her eyes bright with tears. For a moment she seemed loath to touch him, then she sobbed and reached out to stroke his hair. Her mouth twisted, and she cupped his face, caressed his cheeks and called his name.

  "Let him go!" she bellowed.

  Nikira winced, then motioned to the contechs. Two went into the chamber and undid the clamps on the dra'voren's limbs, then left. Nikira glanced at the bio scanner to ensure that he was deeply unconscious before she entered the shredder chamber.

  Ethra looked up, tears running down her cheeks. "He's cold!"

  "We'll make it warm in here."

  "Why did you do this to him?"

  "He's dangerous."

  "No he's not!" Ethra leant over the dra'voren and laid her cheek against his. "Bane, please wake up."

  "Don't try to wake him up, just feed him."

  "How can I when he's on a table? He must be able to sit up."

  Nikira nodded and beckoned to the contechs who hovered outside the door. They dragged the dra'voren off the table and propped him up against the wall, their faces stiff with revulsion and fear. Fortunately, the cloth that covered his hips stayed in place, but Nikira decided that some sort of clothing was in order if the girl was going to stay with him. The contechs turned the scanner equipment so it would monitor his vitals, then left to find something for him to wear.

  Ethra knelt beside him and brushed back the wings of glossy hair that fell over his face, tears running down her cheeks. Nikira handed her the bowl of soup, and the girl settled herself close to him. She tried to tuck his hair behind his ears, but it kept sliding forward again, as slippery as polished silk. Ethra lifted his head with tenderness that made Nikira shudder, s
upported it with a hand on his cheek when it would have lolled sideways, and scooped up a spoonful of soup, holding it to his lips. It took her several moments to work the spoon into his mouth, and most of the soup dribbled down his chin.

  Ethra glared at Nikira. "How could you do this to him? You should be bowing down at his feet, begging for his mercy. Bring me a cloth; I will not affront his dignity by covering him with soup."

  Nikira brought the cloth herself, and Ethra snatched it from her to wipe the dra'voren's chin and chest. She scooped up another spoonful of soup and pressed the fingers of the hand that supported his head against the side of his jaw, unlocking it. His mouth opened, allowing her to steer the spoon inside. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed in reflex. Nikira squatted down a short distance away.

  "Ethra, what's god food?"

  The girl shrugged, reloading the spoon. "I don't know. He summons it from the air in a golden cup."

  Nikira sagged with relief, glad that the horrible vision of him drinking the blood of helpless creators that she had been carrying around was wrong, and could be discarded. "How long were you with him?"

  "I'm with him still, but the time is hard to know, since we were in the God Realm, where there's no night or day. It must be a few weeks now."

  "Has he hurt you?"

  "No!" She shot Nikira a furious glance and fed the dra'voren another spoonful of soup. "He saved me, many times."

  "From what?"

  "Dark beasts. They would have killed us all, but Bane saved us." She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.

  "I see."

  "No, you don't. If you did, you wouldn't have done this to him. You've taken off the stone that protected his arm. He must have been in terrible pain." Fresh tears coursed down her cheeks, and her expression was forlorn. "How can you be so cruel to someone as beautiful and gentle as him?"

  "How was he injured?"

  Ethra scooped up another spoonful of soup and held it to the dra'voren's lips as she recounted an amazing tale. Nikira listened with rapt fascination and deep scepticism, wondering how the dra'voren had implanted such a detailed story in the girl's mind, and what had really happened. Ethra was certainly convinced of its veracity, and Nikira pitied her. By the time she finished her story, half the bowl of soup had found its way into the dra'voren's stomach. She wiped a dribble of soup from his lips and shot Nikira a glare.