The battle of the behemoths surged to and fro across the battered plain, tearing the earth with massive feet and ripping great gouges in it with lashing tails. They gripped each other and struggled, neither able to overcome the other, then broke apart and stabbed, gouged or pounded their opponent with various parts of their armoured bodies. Lost scales and chunks of droge flesh were swiftly regenerated, drawing more mass from the shuddering ground to replace what was lost.
Bane exulted in the power of his construct as he tore and pounded Arkonen, inflicting damage beyond his wildest hopes. Its beak ripped chunks from his opponent, snapped spines and tore off metal scales with consummate ease. The Black Lord inflicted similar damage upon Bane's monstrous creation, and the injuries were translated to his body, vastly reduced.
Bloody welts scored his shoulders and arms where Arkonen had torn chunks from his construct's flesh. This meant that the battle could not continue for too long, or he would become badly injured. He knew that although Arkonen also shared his construct's injuries, his shadow form could regenerate itself, which put Bane at a distinct disadvantage and was clearly the reason Arkonen had chosen this form of combat.
Accepting the challenge had been a mistake, and now he had to find a way to escape unharmed. He also had to make sure Mirra was safe. His concern distracted him, for he feared Arkonen's demons might harm her. He stabbed his opponent with a sword-tipped arm and raked a chunk from Arkonen's flank with the other, then arched his neck and sank his beak into the Black Lord's shoulder.
Bloody scratches appeared on the side of his neck as Arkonen's claws raked him, and a cluster of shallow cuts oozed blood down his belly from a stab of Arkonen's hind claws. He raised his head, lifting his foe off the ground, but the Black Lord's spear-tipped tail lashed around and sliced into his shoulder. Involuntarily he clasped the wound, hissing, then jerked up his head and opened his jaws. The Black Lord's construct flew through the air and crashed onto the ground several hundred yards away, raising a cloud of ash. He rose, unhurt by the fall.
Bane spoke the words of unmaking, releasing his hold on the construct. The monster fell apart, dust raining down on him, metal scales and spines clattering onto the ground all around. He glanced at the Black Lord, whose construct had stopped in mid-stride and disintegrated as quickly as Bane's had done. This, he knew, was because neither of them could Move whilst encapsulated in their monstrous creations. Now that Bane could, Arkonen needed to do so as well.
Bane Moved, reappearing in the spot where the demon battle had raged, but the battle was over and the demons gone. Only the soil of vanquished earth demons remained in a circular mound. He whipped around, searching in every direction, wondering if his demons had carried Mirra to hallowed ground, or whether Arkonen's minions held her. The latter seemed more likely, and he spotted a group of fiends several hundred yards away. With a curse, he Moved again, materialising beside them. They cowered, and he spied Mirra in the arms of one who stood in their midst, unconscious but unharmed.
Arkonen had lied again. His demons had been instructed not to harm her. Either because he wanted to use her against Bane, or kill her himself. He started towards her, raising an arm to blast the demons in his path, then staggered back as the Black Lord appeared almost on top of him, sending him reeling with a blow. He stumbled and fell, throwing out his arms. Arkonen strode after him, raising his fists to bludgeon him again. Bane rolled aside and leapt to his feet. Arkonen Moved, reappearing beside the demon that held Mirra as Bane did the same thing, materialising two strides away.
Bane faced his foe, panting. Sweat slicked him, mingling with the blood that seeped from his wounds. Arkonen's bat wings had shrunk and his arms lacked much of their former brawn, his eyes dimmer. The demon that held Mirra bowed to its master and laid the healer at his feet, then sank into the earth at a gesture from the Black Lord. Arkonen's red maw curved in a malicious smile.
"So, Bane, have you had enough? Have I proven to you that you cannot beat me yet, or would you like to go below and wrestle in a lava sea? Perhaps we should hurl mountains at each other, or see who can tear the deepest pit in this wretched world. I made you my equal, not my superior, and for you to think you could triumph in combat was sheer arrogance. Already you are hurt, and eventually you will lose."
Bane glared at him, his hatred burning like a hot coal in his heart, an icy dread for Mirra cooling it. The power that their conflict had unleashed gathered the angry clouds until they almost touched the ground around them, and flashes of lightning tore the air with vicious cracks. Thunder rumbled, shaking the earth.
Bane nodded. "All right. Give me the healer, and you can keep the Old Kingdom."
Arkonen laughed, an ugly, triumphant sound. "No. All deals are off, boy. I will keep the Old Kingdom anyway, even if you reclaim this land for the Lady, so I do not need to make deals with you. There is nothing more you can do, so now you will watch her die."
"No."
"Yes. You should have accepted my last offer. Now it is no longer on the table."
"It never was."
Arkonen chuckled. "Ah, Bane, at last you begin to know me. Yet there was a time when you believed all that I told you."
"That was before you betrayed me, but now I know why you are called the Father of Lies."
The Black Lord smiled and turned to look down at Mirra. "I have enjoyed tormenting you both, but now it is time she died. You have learnt the futility of fighting me, so all that remains is for you to watch as I crush her soul and send it to the Land of the Dead. One day you will join her there, and then I shall have the pleasure of your suffering once again, when I destroy you."
Arkonen reached down, and Bane charged him. The impact drove the Black Lord back several steps, and his hands flashed up to close around Bane's throat. The Demon Lord Moved.
Ellese's eyes widened as Bane and Arkonen vanished, the force of the air sucked in by the sudden displacement of matter raising a cloud of ash. This told her that they had not become invisible again, but had Moved. She sat back and glanced at the other seer, who frowned at her glass in confusion, then met Ellese's eyes with a helpless look. Ellese gazed into her glass, biting her lip as she waited for them to reappear. Where had they gone?
The Lady writhed on her soft bed of light. Her realm had shrunk further, the multi-hued sky darkening, the bright glow of her pearly land dimming. If she did not relinquish her weakening hold on the Overworld soon, the light realm would be in danger.
"No, Bane," she murmured. "Think! Hurry!"
Bane reappeared above the clouds, where golden power poured down in torrents, its touch making his skin crawl. The Black Lord screamed as it tore through his shadow form, releasing Bane, who tried to hold onto him. Arkonen's substance thinned rapidly in the light, and Bane's hands sank through it. Arkonen Moved, taking Bane with him, and they reappeared where they had been moments before, beneath the black clouds.
Arkonen staggered back, shadows leaking from him like tendrils of smoke, his form warped and translucent. Bane lunged at him, trying to renew his hold and take the Black Lord back into the light, but Arkonen leapt aside. His Gather drew substance from the darkness, thickening his form. He shouted, and Bane whipped around as four earth demons rose behind him, fists poised to strike. He dived aside, a glancing blow sending him sprawling, then rolled and sent a lash of shadow at the fiends, reducing them to dust.
Leaping up, Bane swung around to find Arkonen standing a few yards away, his shadow form restored, if slightly smaller and more slender. He held Mirra before him, his hands caressing her throat. She was awake, her eyes blank and sleepy.
"That was quite clever, boy," he grated. "But ill advised. I am surprised it took you so long to try it, but it only served to annoy me and make her demise more painful."
"Leave her be," Bane said.
"I think we have established that you cannot defeat me, idiot boy. That being the case, why should I?"
"I will take half the Overworld if you kill her."
"Yo
u will have to do that if I let her live, otherwise she will perish anyway." He shook his head. "No, it is time for her to die."
Bane stared at him, a dozen futile offers presenting themselves, all of which he knew would be useless. The Black Lord could not be trusted, any bargain he made he would break, and he would not agree to a deal that required him to fulfil his side of it first. Anguish filled Bane's heart as Arkonen's hands tightened around Mirra's throat. His claws dug into her skin, not hard enough to choke her yet, but enjoying her agony and using it to torment Bane, as he had promised to do. She seemed to wake from her stupor, her eyes widening, and she clawed at the Black Lord's hands.
Bane charged towards them, intent on flinging himself at Arkonen and tearing him apart with his bare hands. A wall of dark power shot up in his path, and he rebounded off it, staggered back and collapsed, stunned by the impact. Mirra's screams tore at him like barbed hooks in his flesh, goading him into a blind fury. Belatedly he realised that Arkonen had employed the same tactic as before, with identical results, using Bane's concern for Mirra to lure him into rash acts he would otherwise not have committed.
Bane struggled to his knees, shaking his head to try to clear the stars from his eyes. Raising a hand, he pawed at the blood that ran from his nose. Pain pounded through his skull, numbing his brain. Arkonen laughed, and Bane whipped around as he sensed danger behind him, finding two earth demons rising from the ground. He waved a hand at them, turning them to dust with a lash of unfocussed power, then fell sideways, struggling to shake off the dazedness that fogged his mind. Mirra's screams ripped at his sanity, and his weakness mocked him. Her cries became choking sounds.
"No," Bane groaned. "No."
The Demon Lord got to his knees again, then staggered to his feet and stumbled forward. He encountered the barrier, and his hands slid over it, found its edges and tugged at it. It held firm, and he hammered at it, pain shooting up his arms, then laid his palms against it and Gathered, the seven runes on his chest flaring to yellow brilliance. The barrier wavered under his onslaught, but remained solid. Shaking his head again, he looked up, his blood spattering the wall of shadow.
Arkonen fed the barrier with a conduit of darkness, counteracting Bane's Gather. He had no hope of draining it, or of going around it, since it would always remain between him and his foe. The dark power filled him, soon he would have to shed some of it or be consumed. He considered hurling it at the clouds, but he had tried that before, without success. Now he had no time to enter into another stalemate, even if it forced Arkonen to relinquish his hold on Mirra. It would not win the battle, and would leave him vulnerable to another demon attack.
Mirra's plucking hands dropped to her sides, one still swaddled in cloth, and she sagged against the Black Lord, her eyes closing. His fiery maw stretched in a triumphant grin, and his raucous laughter bellowed forth.
Soft words echoed through Bane's mind in a voice of lilting sweetness. In your darkest hour... no one can stand alone always.
Remembering the blue mage on the Isle of Lume, the Demon Lord sank to his knees, raised his arms, and shouted, "Lady!"
As the tormented cry was wrung from him, he unleashed his fire at the Black Lord. The dark power poured from him in a fury of hate and rage, striking the barrier. The Black Lord flung back his head and laughed again.
Lightning struck the ground all around them in a barrage of crackling brilliance, and thunder roared through the clouds, shaking the earth.
Bane's power turned blinding white. It mantled the barrier in a flash of coruscating blue, shredding it with the pure fire of the Goddess, then flashed through it and struck the Black Lord. He screamed as the pearly light engulfed him, mottling his form with shades of grey and brilliant blue as the two powers warred in a fury of raw, unbridled energy.
His shadow form recoiled as the fire tore it into dark tatters that dispersed and dwindled, swirling around him like smoke in the wind. The bat wings shredded, stripped from him. Two arms shrivelled and twisted, their substance burnt away. The ground beneath his feet glowed crimson as he sucked more shadow from the earth in a desperate bid to counter the white fire. He could not Move, for the light impaled him, holding him in a mighty fist that crushed him with a power greater than his own.
Bane burnt, his cry of pain unborn in his throat as the fire coursed through him in a river of unbelievable agony. Searing tears leaked from his eyes and ran down his cheeks in crimson trickles. The Black Lord's roar thundered across the land, hammered the hills and echoed through distant mountains. His yellow eyes flared to incandescence as he looked down upon the instrument of his doom. The Demon Lord knelt with hands outstretched, his blood-streaked face raised to the sky, twisted with pain.
"No! You cannot do this!"
The Black Lord flung Mirra aside and raised his remaining arms. Dark fire poured from his hands, met the pale power and drove it back in a wall of brilliant blue. His Gather turned the soil beneath him molten, forming another Source that caused the ground to sink into a glowing pit. Bane gasped as the power that flowed through him grew hotter, burning his blood and charring his flesh. His hands blackened as it poured through his skin, yet he could not stop it. The Lady held him transfixed, at her mercy.
The white fire crept towards the Black Lord again, whose shadow form remained weak and tattered, unable to recover while all his power was required to hold the onslaught at bay. The light reached his hands and consumed them, then moved up his arms, turning them to blue fire. It flared, leaping across the gap to eat away at the shadows of his chest, spreading out to mantle him, ripping his form asunder.
"You are evil! You belong to me!" The fire that shredded him tore Arkonen’s shout.
Bane's lips drew back in a snarl. His agony prevented him from replying, but triumph shone through the pain in his eyes, which burnt brilliant blue, lighted from within by the power that poured through him.
The Black Lord's howl of rage ripped from his shrinking form. "I will rise again! I will destroy you!"
The white fire engulfed Arkonen, consuming his shadows, driving them away with the pure light of Eternity. The beacon of his destruction bathed the clouds with silver radiance, casting every hillock and rock into sharp relief, like a flash of lightning that did not end. The brilliance hurt Bane's eyes, forcing him to close them, and even then the light shone red through his eyelids.
The last tatters of Arkonen's shadow form tore away, revealing the pulsing crimson light of his soul. With a silent scream that ripped through Bane's mind, it vanished downwards, drawn back to the Land of the Dead. The seething ball of pearly light remained for an instant longer, fed by the twin conduits that poured from Bane's hands, then winked out with a massive thunderclap that shook the ground.
Bane's head bowed, and he sprawled face down on the ground, his scorched hands spread on the dry soil.
The Lady sagged back against the radiance that cradled her. Her eyes fluttered shut and her hands sank down onto her lap. Her realm had shrunk and darkened considerably, the sky almost black, the land a dull grey. A soft sigh escaped her as she fell into the blackness of unconsciousness, drained by her final, supreme effort. Her pale lips parted to frame soft, sighing words.
"I am sorry, Bane."
"Goddess!" Ellese recoiled, clutching her eyes as a white flash flared from her glass. The other seer shrieked and fell to the floor, pawing at her eyes. White light bathed the land outside, pouring in through the windows as if a gateway to Eternity had opened. It lasted for several minutes, then winked out, plunging everything into darkness.
The Elder Mothers jumped and cringed as a massive thunderclap shook the abbey, cracked windowpanes and made dust jump off the beams. After a moment of stunned immobility, two healers groped their way to the whimpering seer, trying to soothe her with soft words and reassuring hugs. The others stood transfixed, wondering if they had been struck blind. Ellese sat immobile, her hands clamped over her eyes, certain that she had.
The chanting from the chapel h
ad stopped, and faint screams and cries came from outside, men's voices raised in shouts of alarm and confusion, women and children wailing in terror. Echoes of the thunderclap rolled back and forth across the land, rebounded off distant mountains and reverberated deep within the earth. The abbey shuddered, and the bell pealed in a mournful, discordant chime. Nobody moved as they waited for the echoes to die away and the earth to stop shivering. The vibrations filled the air with a muted rumble, and ornaments fell from tables and shelves, smashing or clattering on the floor.
Distant crashing sounds mingled with the terrified screams of the people outside as windows broke and walls collapsed. Horses whinnied and the villagers' animals bawled in panic. The healers clung to the walls or furniture and whispered prayers that no one would be hurt. The deep-throated grumble faded, and the vibrations died away, leaving the air thick with dust in the darkness. The cries outside stopped at the same time, and a deathly hush fell, as if the world had ended. Then several of the women in the room coughed, breaking the spell. One of the Elder Mothers found Ellese in the gloom and gripped her shoulder.
"Are you all right?"
Ellese nodded. "I am blind, is all. Bane. Mirra. We must find them. Hurry! Help me."
"Surely they could not have survived that?"
"Perhaps not Bane, but Mirra... she must be safe. The Lady would not harm her."
"We will go. You cannot see."
"No, I am coming."
Two Elder Mothers helped Ellese to her feet and guided her down the winding stairs to the hallway below.
Tallis raised her head, making sure the rumbling and shaking had stopped before untangling herself from the knot of young healers who had clung to each other when the tremors started. She coughed in the thick dust that hung in the air. The others lifted their heads and looked around, their cheeks streaked with tears. Cracks ran along the chapel's walls, and the few tiles that had survived Bane's purge lay smashed on the floor.
Dark God Page 23
