Just beyond the hallowed ground, the driver guided the horses to a hillock that stood above the water, where they stopped. The healers helped Bane up the slight rise, and, at the top, he shook them off and turned to Ellese.
"Go away."
The healers lifted their sodden robes and climbed back into the cart. The driver clucked to the horses and they moved away, but stopped within sight of Bane, on the hallowed ground. He cursed their curiosity, then dismissed them and opened himself to his senses. The three new Sources were within his range, although it would have been easier if he had been closer to them. The one in the Old Kingdom was too far away for his commands to affect.
With some difficulty, he tugged open his shirt with the heels of his hands and traced the seven rune scars, igniting them. Turning in the direction of the Sources, he lifted his arms and spread his hands, describing a series of runic symbols in the air with the shadows that trickled from his fingers. When they hung before him in an unreadable dark sentence, he spoke their guttural names. They sank down, losing their form until they were wisps of shadow that vanished into the ground. All around him, so slowly that its movement was barely noticeable, the dark power began to fall. He repeated the runic sequence, speaking their names again, and they drifted down.
The dark power fell from the sky in a cascade of shadow, slowly at first, then faster as he completed the sequence a third time. The runes on his chest brightened, and sweat mingled with the rain that ran down his face. It looked deceptively easy, but was not. To command so much dark power took all of his will, and the power within him burnt as it fought against him, yet he needed it to fuel his commands. The world grew darker as the shadows parted from the clouds and filled the air on their slow journey to the earth. The rain beat down, chilling him to the bone and making his teeth chatter. How he hated water.
The hallowed ground began to glow with a soft, muted silvery light that shone up through the soil as if a lamp had been lighted beneath it. The falling shadows drifted away from it, thickening on the edge of it before sinking into the earth. Bane completed the sequence a fourth time, and the shadows drifted down through the rain, gathering on the water like a foul mist. Thunder rumbled in the clouds again, and lightning flickered.
Bane turned his attention to the Sources, stretching out his hands towards them. Their closure required finger movements, and his hands hurt. This, he told himself, he did so he could be healed, but the ache in his heart mocked him. He described the flowing gestures of command, his fingers burning when he bent them, then made a vicious downward motion and shouted, "Bre'nyth argarath!"
A grinding shudder ran through the earth, as if a huge, long-unused gate rumbled shut, and the nearest Source closed, cutting off the flow of dark power from it. Again he described the flowing gestures, his hands graceful despite their mutilation, as the darkness continued to fall all around him. The gestures had to be exact; any deviation and the command would fail, for it was amongst the highest and most privileged of commands, available only to a god. His hands were stiff, defying his use of them, and, although he did not need to expend power through them, they burnt.
The runes burnt too, fighting him even as he used their power, for the dark power did not want to be banished below. He made the final, vicious gesture and shouted the command again.
The second Source rumbled shut with a hollow, echoing boom. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon him, bowing his shoulders, and he switched back to the free power, describing a fifth set of runes. The shadow fall continued at the same pace, but that which had gathered upon the ground and water vanished into it, sucked down into the Underworld.
It would replenish the exhausted demons below, brighten the inner fire and fill the mighty caverns with shadows. It would not help Arkonen, however, for he was trapped in the Land of the Dead, where dark power was scarce. Bane described the runes a sixth time, muttering their names. The rain ran from his hair, spiked his lashes and stung his eyes. It soaked through his cloak and trickled down his back in icy streams. He turned towards the last Source, raising his aching hands to begin the painful gestures a final time, his burnt skin cracking and starting to bleed.
His fingers would barely move, and he almost made a mistake, catching himself as the command slithered in his grasp like an eel, seeking to defy him. His hands jerked, losing their fluidity, and the ground shivered in protest, then he regained control and completed the sequence, making the final gesture and shouting the words. The rumbling lasted a long time as the gate dragged slowly closed, almost failing. Then the boom of closure came through the hissing rain, and Bane fought to remain on his feet, shivers racking him. He described the seventh and final set of runes with shaking hands, almost whispering their names, and the remaining dark magic rushed to the earth, vanishing into it.
Bane raised his head, letting the rain beat on his face, not because he enjoyed it, but because it revived him with its chill touch. Lifting his arms, he spread his bleeding hands towards the clouds as if to rip them asunder, and then slowly moved them apart. Dark power flowed from his fingers, touched the clouds, and tore them open, thinning their turgid blackness to grey. They drifted apart, and the world brightened.
The Demon Lord fell to his knees, his aching hands curled before his chest. The blood ran down them to drip from his wrists. What little strength he had possessed was gone, and the world retreated to a grey haze. He barely noticed the cart rattle up and Ellese's worried words as the four healers carried him to it.
The deed was done, the dark power banished from the Overworld and sent below, the Sources closed. Already the clouds drifted away, thinning and lightening, allowing watery light to come through. The runes burnt in sullen agreement with the angry power in his blood, sending waves of pain through him. He leashed it savagely, imposed his will upon it and snuffed out the fire in the runes, then darkness claimed him.
The Lady shifted and sighed on her radiant bed as the realm around her brightened, regaining some of its pearly glow. The power she had sent into the Overworld to aid the healers seeped back, drawn to its source, and the denizens of her realm stirred from their lethargy. Her hand crept to the bluish welts on her arm and clasped them, white fire riming her fingertips, but she continued to sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
A Young God
Ellese stood on the balcony and gazed out at the devastated land, a great sadness mixing with the joy that the brightening sky brought. The rain had continued for several hours after Bane had sent the dark power below and commanded the clouds to leave, but finally it had stopped. Dirty grey water filled every hollow and ran down the hills in muddy torrents, washing gullies into the soil.
Trees stood stark and bare, as if winter had come early, and grey sludge covered the land as far as the eye could see. The healers gathered on the balconies to witness the miracle of the sun's return, and glad cries made Ellese turn. In the distance the clouds parted, and a shaft of golden light shot down, bathing an area of dull grey earth. Tears of joy stung her eyes as she watched it wander over the land, beyond their reach, but a wonderful sight nevertheless.
Shrieks of excitement from the young healers behind her made her turn again in anticipation. They looked up, pointing, and she followed their urgent fingers. Directly above the abbey, the thinning clouds tore apart, revealing a patch of bright blue sky. Blessed sunlight poured through it, and she spread her arms to receive it as the others did, basking in the warm touch of its golden power.
It flooded her with a wealth of well-being, banishing the aches and pains she had accumulated in its absence, filling her heart with a new ache of joy. It only lasted about half an hour, but that was sufficient time for her to soak up enough to make her flesh tingle. As soon as the clouds swallowed the blue patch again, she left the balcony and made her way to Mirra's room. Several healers had beaten her there, including Tallis and a number of Elder Mothers.
Tallis had persuaded Mirra to sit up, and unwrapped her transformed arm while Mirra turned her head awa
y, biting her lip. Ellese studied the monstrous thing, suppressing a shudder. The affected hand was large, its fingers long and knobbly, tipped with sharp claws. A ridge of spines ran down the top of it, and the shiny black scales covered all but the palm, which consisted of thick, leathery skin. Tallis threw down the cloth and laid her hands upon the hard scales, eager to heal her friend. Nothing happened, and the young healer frowned, then moved her hands to Mirra's shoulder. This time the power flowed; Ellese could sense it from across the room, and Mirra closed her eyes with a sigh.
The bruises around her throat vanished, as did the scabbed abrasions. The arm did not change. Tallis shot a worried look at the Elder Mothers, and two of them stepped forward and laid their hands on Mirra's shoulder, letting their power flow into her. Several minutes passed with no sign of healing, then a faint blue glow appeared in the scabby flesh at the juncture between scales and skin. One of the Elder Mothers nodded, and they continued to let their healing flow into Mirra. The blue light brightened, but the arm did not change.
Ellese strode across the room and elbowed one of the Elder Mothers aside, laying her hands on Mirra's shoulder where hers had been. She concentrated, sending her power into the girl, encountering the web of dark power in her arm, just as she had sensed it in Bane's flesh. In him, the thin, flowing shield just under his skin was active and tractable, living in him, but not a part of him. It only became impenetrable when attacked, allowing her to push through it while he was unconscious.
In Mirra's arm it was impervious, a solid barrier bound to her flesh that shut out healing power. The one who had channelled it into her had commanded it. It was now a part of her, and intractable. Ellese stepped back in shocked realisation, then spun on her heel and left the room. Mirra's wails followed her into the hall, and she almost ran down the corridor to escape them. She stopped when she had outrun them and leant against the wall. Turning her face to it, she pressed her brow to the cold stone. Anguish filled her heart, banishing the joy the sunlight had brought.
The patter of bare feet made her straighten and brush at her eyes. She turned to find Tallis standing there, frowning.
"Why is it not working, Mother?"
Ellese shook her head. "There is so much dark power in her arm, I do not understand what holds it back from the rest of her. I thought it was a surface change, and we could force it to slough off, but it is not. It goes right to the bone, and we cannot penetrate it."
"Mirra is the greatest healer amongst us, perhaps if she gathered enough power..."
"No. It will not work. It still advances, and eventually it will consume her."
Tallis' face twisted, and she stifled a sob. "We must do something!"
Ellese nodded. "We will. Only one option remains. We must amputate it."
"No!"
"We have no choice. It is the only way to save her."
"What about Bane?"
"What about him?"
Tallis made a helpless gesture. "Perhaps he could help."
"No, he is not a healer."
"We should at least ask him. He is a god, is he not?"
"He cannot heal, Tallis, not even himself. How can he heal Mirra? It will only upset both of them, and you know Mirra does not wish him to see it. Once it has been amputated she will feel much better."
"But she will be crippled. Can she grow another arm?"
Ellese frowned. "Do not be ridiculous. It is the only thing we can do, and I think you will find it is what she wants too."
"Only because she wants it gone at any price."
"And I do not blame her. You are not to suggest it to her, and I forbid you to speak to Bane about it. Her mental state is fragile, and he has been through enough. If he finds out what the Black Lord did to her, and that we cannot help her, I do not know how he will react. We will amputate it, and save her."
Ellese turned and walked off, her back stiff with anguish, leaving Tallis to stare after her in angry confusion. Her shoulders slumped, and she went back to Mirra's room to offer what comfort she could. She found Mirra curled up on the bed, weeping, the transformed arm swaddled again. Putting her arms around her distraught friend, Tallis hugged her.
"They are going to cut it off, Mir," she murmured.
"Good."
Tallis' eyes stung, and she stroked Mirra's hair, her heart heavy.
Ellese plodded down the hall, her joy gone, sadness a dull ache within her. The prospect of amputating Mirra's arm brought her intense sorrow. Such practices were rare, performed only when no other hope remained. She recalled a blacksmith who had fallen into his furnace. His arm had become trapped for several minutes in the intense heat, burning it to the bone. He had required an amputation, and had lost his trade because of it. Mirra would still be able to perform her duties as a healer with one arm, but, even so, their failure to heal her was devastating.
Finding herself outside Bane's door, she pushed it open and walked in, dismissing the healer who attended him. He appeared to be asleep, and she sank down on the chair, rubbing her face.
"What is wrong?"
Ellese started at the sound of his voice, raised her head and forced a wan smile. "I am tired."
Bane stretched and yawned, sat up and swung his legs off the bed. His wet clothes had been removed while he was unconscious, and now he discovered his nakedness, tugging the sheet around his hips with his bandaged hands. Ellese rose and went to sit beside him, ignoring his discomfiture.
"The sun has returned. I can heal you now."
"Just you? I do not have to be chained to the slab again?"
"No." She smiled. "Just me."
He held out his hands, and she began to remove the bandages that had been put back while he was unconscious. "Normally I could heal you without removing these, but given who you are, and the power you contain, it will be easier if I take them off."
He shrugged. "As you wish."
When his hands were bared, she took hold of one and closed her eyes as she concentrated. The dark power lurked just under his skin, blocking her healing, forcing her to probe for an opening. Then she sensed it fade, as if recalled by some silent command, and opened her eyes in surprise.
Bane stared into space, and two of the runes glowed. Her healing rushed into his hand, and the blackness faded. The cracks in his skin closed as the flesh healed, until only scars remained. That which had been lost could not be replaced, and the ends of his fingers remained a mass of pink scar tissue. Releasing his hand, she took hold of the other one, and again the dark magic receded at her touch, opening his flesh to her power. When she was finished, the runes went dark, and he held his hands up, studying them.
"How did you do that?" she asked.
He shrugged. "It was not difficult. But it only works in my limbs."
Ellese rose and went to gaze out of the window, watching patches of sunlight wander the land. A fresh wind had sprung up, wafting the stench of mud and decay to her.
"Is the Black Lord destroyed?"
"No. He is cast down."
Ellese's heart sank, but she had suspected as much. "How long before he can rise again?"
"Quite a while. There is virtually no power in the Land of the Dead."
"Months? Years?"
"Months." He continued to peruse his fingers, flexing them. "Has Mirra been healed?"
Her breath caught. "She will be, very soon."
"Good."
She turned and walked to the door. "I will have food sent to you. Rest now."
The Elder Mothers wasted no time in preparing for Mirra's surgery. The instruments were set on the stove to boil, and their best cutter came to examine Mirra's arm. Tallis sat with her, trying to dissuade her.
"Mir, you should not rush into this. It may heal in time. If you sat in the sun a lot, your power could overcome it."
"No." Mirra stared at the floor. "It will not work."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I just am."
"Will you not at least talk to Bane?"
"No!"
"Then let me ask him, please?"
"No." Mirra raised her head. "I do not want him to know about it, you promised."
"I agreed, I did not promise."
"It is the same thing."
"No, it is not."
"Then promise me now."
"No. How will you feel about seeing him when this is over?"
Mirra's face twisted, and tears ran down her cheeks. "I do not know."
Tallis hugged her, contrite. "I am sorry. I just think this a big mistake."
"I agree."
Tallis looked up in surprise as a new voice spoke from the doorway. Jassid, the head of the temple, stood there. She had not been present when they had tried to heal Mirra, but clearly she had heard about their plans. The Abbess came forward, frowning at Mirra.
"Child, this is a terrible thing you do. It can never be undone."
Mirra bowed her head. "I have no choice."
"You must give the healing a chance. Something so grave could take days to undo. If there is any hope of saving your arm, we must try. I will not allow this."
"No!" Mirra looked up, her eyes full of despair. "I want this to be over now!"
"I understand your anguish, but -"
"You do not understand! It is trying to kill me!"
"What is?"
"This - this thing!" Mirra glanced at the swaddled arm with a shudder. "It wants to kill me."
"How can it? It is merely a limb, a part of you."
"No, it is not a part of me anymore. It is a part of him!"
Ellese came in, her eyes glinting. "What is going on?"
Mirra and Jassid turned to her, their voices raised in outrage. Tallis stood helpless as the argument flared, taking on new proportions as the shouting drew more healers, who joined one side or the other. Since Jassid was the Abbess, most sided with her, and Ellese's healers joined her side.
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