"I am surprised he left any
alive."
"Not many. Will you do it?"
Bane shrugged. "I have to go
there to close the Source he opened. It would be a simple
matter."
"Thank you. I would like to come
with you, to see you do it."
"To make sure I do?"
"No! Just to see you using your
powers to do good."
"A refreshing change."
"Do not be bitter." She took his
hand, glancing down at it. "Goddess! What happened to your
hands?"
"It is a long story."
"Then let us go for a walk and
you can tell me all about it. I long to be in the sun. Perhaps I
can do something for your hands... Who healed you? Ellese?"
He nodded, then smiled and made
a brief gesture with his free hand. The scars vanished, and Mirra's
eyes widened in amazement.
"How did you...? You cannot heal
yourself. Can you?"
"No. It is an illusion."
She giggled. "Very clever."
Mirra tugged him into the
corridor, where murmuring groups of curious healers lingered. When
they spied Mirra they clustered around her to examine her arm,
exclaiming in delight. Many of her friends from her old abbey
hugged and kissed her, and Bane watched them with vague curiosity.
Some of them cast him shy smiles of approval and awe, but none of
them came too close to him, keeping a respectful distance.
Only Jassid approached him, a
determined glint in her brown eyes. She was a tall, spare woman
with a gaunt, stern face framed by thin grey hair pulled back in a
severe bun. He raised his chin when she stopped before him, meeting
her eyes, and she smiled, making the sign of the Lady's
blessing.
"I would like to thank you,
Demon Lord, for all you have done. For Mirra, and for the
Overworld. May the Lady bless and keep you."
Bane's face became
expressionless, and Mirra realised that he had no idea how to
respond to this. She grabbed his hand and dragged him away, leaving
the abbess gazing after him with a disappointed expression. Mirra
led him into the inner courtyard, where healers basked in the sun,
and some cleared away the grey mud. The sun, still weak and
intermittent, dried the slush, hardening it to the consistency of
soft stone. Martal's men scraped it up and shovelled it onto the
cart to be taken away and dumped. Mirra gazed around at the cracked
walls, saddened by the damage that the abbey had suffered, while
Bane squinted in the sunlight.
"It seems we have a lot of work
ahead of us, repairing all this," she commented.
Bane cast a
measuring glance at the damage. Raising a hand, he let shadows
trickle from his fingers, and commanded them. The abbey shuddered,
and the cracks closed with gritty grinding sounds as broken plaster
rushed back into the walls. Men cowered, some throwing themselves
down in the mud, and the horses pranced and shied. Faint screams
came from within the abbey, and Bane
’s gesture raised a fallen wall and sent broken glass
drifting back into the windows, making them whole.
Mirra watched spellbound, her
mouth open in amazement, as the mud in the courtyard rose in a grey
blanket and drew together into a ball that drifted out over the
walls. She sensed his power like a tension in the air, and a soft
hum accompanied it. This, she realised, was because there were no
wards. Without them, his power was practically unlimited, and he
forced the domain's fabric to bend to his will with hardly any
effort. A frightening thought, except that she trusted him.
Repairing the abbey was a mere trifle to him, a gesture and a brief
thought and it was done. Inconsequential, to someone who could
raise mountains and reshape the land just as easily if he
chose.
Bane let his hand fall, and the
power vanished. After a stunned moment, the men rose and stared
around in amazement, then grinned and slapped each other on the
back, wandering off to find some enjoyable pastime. Healers
appeared in the doorways, their pale faces, taut with fright,
relaxing into smiles as they realised who had caused the ground to
shake.
Mirra grinned. "Well, I was
wrong. No work for us after all."
Bane smiled,
and they wandered on, into what had once been the orchard, now
inhabited by bare, dead
looking trees. Mirra went up to one and stroked its bark
sadly, then shot Bane an impish smile.
"You have had your turn to show
off, now it is mine."
Laying her hands on the tree,
she raised her face to the sun and revelled in its warm touch as
the power flowed like silk through her flesh. The light gilded her
skin and ignited her hair in a pale halo. She sent it into the tree
to nurse the dregs of life within it, encouraging the sap to rise
and impart life to all its cells. Several minutes passed, then,
with the slow grace of trees, tiny green buds appeared on its
branches, swelling and opening little leaves to soak up the
sun.
Mirra stepped back as the leaves
continued to unfurl, casting Bane a triumphant grin. He smiled, his
eyes slits of blue fire.
"You bring life, as I bring
death."
She returned to his side. "But I
am not a god."
"No, you are my opposite, my
nemesis. Your abbess should have thanked you, for you are the one
who defeated me, and through me, your goddess defeated the Black
Lord."
She took his hand. "You deserve
more of the credit than any of us. Without you, none of it would
have been possible."
"Without me, none of it would
have happened."
"Then it would have been
another, perhaps one who could not be turned to the light. No, you
deserved the thanks."
Bane shrugged,
and they wandered on. Beyond the orchard, the
dark folk camped on the hallowed ground, sitting
around their campfires in silent misery. At the sight of Bane they
rose and bowed, chanting his name in gruff voices. Mirra gazed at
them with horrified pity, for they were thin and bedraggled, their
clothes and fur caked with dried mud, their faces gaunt and
hollow-eyed. Bane raised a hand, and they fell silent.
"Go. Return to your homes," he
ordered.
For several minutes they
digested this, then stamped out their fires and gathered their few
possessions. Bane turned and walked away.
Chapter
Fifteen
The Dark Power
For two more days, the
Demon Lord rested, regaining his strength. The healers gave him
their best food, as much as he wished, although they rationed
themselves to conserve what little they had. The villagers returned
to their homes to repair the damage and try to pick up the pieces
of their lives. The abbey resumed its peaceful existence, and the
healers dispensed healing to all who came seeking it. Martal and
his men helped to dig up the ruined vegetable garden and plant new
seeds, cut wood for the kitchen stoves and tend the
animals.
Bane spent most of his time in
his room, except when Mirra persuaded him to walk in the gardens,
usually at twilight, when the sunlight did not bother him so much.
He told her all that had happened to him while she had been
Arkonen's prisoner, but she could not bring herself to tell him
what had happened to her during that time. He did not enquire,
either, she supposed, out of consideration for her feelings, or
because he had a fair idea of what Arkonen had done. He was
withdrawn and pensive, and spent many hours staring into space, his
expression deadpan.
Several times Martal's night
watch encountered him sitting alone in the darkness outside the
abbey, gazing at the stars. Mirra tried to draw him from his solemn
mood with bright banter, but her chatter only evinced slight,
enigmatic smiles tinged with sorrow. Although she longed to know
the reason for his depression, she was afraid to ask.
On the third day, Bane decided
that it was time to go to the Old Kingdom and close the Source
there. He did not like to take Mirra with him, knowing that the
dark power would sicken her, but she dismissed his objections. This
was an adventure she did not want to miss, and a little queasiness
was a paltry price to pay. At least this time she knew she would be
in no danger, with the Demon Lord at her side, and she had no wish
to be parted from him. After breakfast, Bane led her into the inner
courtyard, then turned to her and held out his hand. She took it
without hesitation, trusting him completely.
Bane Moved, reappearing in the
Old Kingdom temple, not far from the blood-encrusted altar. Mirra
doubled over and clutched her stomach as the waves of nausea made
her retch, her skin prickling with the intense cold of the Move.
Bane held her up, and she clung to him, glad of his warmth and
support, even though his expression was austere and he was already
glancing around at the dark temple. Here the black clouds still
blocked out the sun, and the dark power rose from the ground in
sickening waves, powered by the Source. Lightning flickered,
illuminating the temple and its grisly contents. Decaying human
remains lay strewn on the floor in black pools of dried blood.
Mirra averted her gaze from the
rotting cadavers and clung to Bane's hand as he strolled to the
steps that led down into the city, where he stopped and gazed at
Arkonen's monstrous new temple. The ruddy glow of the Source within
it shone from its narrow windows and massive doors, and dark power
poured forth in waves of shadow. Bane strode down the steps,
kicking aside a grinning skull that bounced away with dull
crunches, trailing rotting brains. Mirra held a hand over her nose
to try to block out the stench, but it permeated everything. The
air seemed to be made from it. Bane stopped at the temple door and
turned to her.
"You should wait here. The power
inside is intense."
"No." Mirra glanced around at
the darkness, unwilling to be alone in it. "I am coming with
you."
Bane walked
into the temple, Mirra close on his heels. The evil made her
stomach heave, and she was forced to stop and empty it next to a
twisted, bulbous pillar. She sensed that she would have been
incinerated instantly if not for her power, which made her skin
glow slightly as it protected her. The sulphurous stench
overpowered the sickly sweet fetor of decay, but she could not
decide which was worse. Bane waited for her, then approached the
glowing cracks in the floor when she
re-joined him. The intense heat that emanated from them
burnt her skin, and she raised her hands to shield her face. Bane
glanced at her, noticed her discomfort, and gestured. The heat and
the sickness vanished, allowing her to walk beside him into the
middle of the temple. She gazed around, fascinated.
"What did you do?"
He studied the runes on the
walls. "I am shielding you. I could take you to the Underworld if
you wish. Arkonen shielded me until I learnt how to do it myself. I
should have done it sooner. I was remiss."
"You could take me to the
Underworld?"
"Yes. Do you want to go?"
She hesitated. "Perhaps. I would
like to see where you grew up."
"I doubt you would like it."
"Probably not."
Bane looked around, his
expression shuttered. A flare of fire drew his attention to one of
the glowing cracks as a fire demon manifested, followed by three
others. Bane frowned at them as they bowed to him.
"Mealle. How typical of you to
survive."
"Demon Lord. You honour us with
your presence. How may we serve you?"
"I did not summon you. I have no
need of your services."
"We wish to serve. You have
defeated the Black Lord, now you are ruler of the Underworld. No
one will dare to dispute your claim."
"I am sure," Bane drawled. "But
I have no intention of claiming that throne. Arkonen will free
himself from the Land of the Dead soon enough."
"He will bow at your feet,
Lord."
Bane smiled. "A pleasant
thought, but he can keep the stinking place. I am not going back
there."
"We beg you to reconsider. All
that we have is yours. You will want for nothing."
"You just do not want him as
your master again. You think I would be a better master, and I can
protect you from him."
The demon's eyes brightened. "It
is your home."
"I know what you really want.
You want to stop me from restoring the wards and banishing you from
the Overworld. That would spoil your fun, would it not?"
"You could rule both worlds, and
all would bow at your feet. Your power would be infinite. Even the
realm of Eternity would be within your grasp once you have opened
the World Gate within this realm."
"That is what Arkonen intended
to do, is it not?"
"He wished to rule all three
realms, yes. Now that is within your power."
"And how is this World Gate
opened?"
The demon smiled. "The soul of a
fallen healer is the key, Lord. You have only to corrupt the human
girl who stands beside you, a simple matter for you, since she has
no defence against you."
"How so?"
"Her hatred of the Black Lord
foiled his attempts to corrupt her, and the goddess Lyriasharin
protected her from his power. But the Goddess sleeps now, and the
girl would not be able to resist you."
Mirra backed away, horrified by
the demon's scheming words, which Bane seemed to be considering.
Before she could move beyond his reach, Bane's hand flashed out and
pulled her back to his side. Another three fire demons manifested,
filling the temple with bright fire.
"Why do you say that she cannot
resist me, Mealle?" Bane enquired.
"In her time with you, her heart
has been opened, Lord. She has weak human emotions that you could
easily exploit. All you need do is open her flesh to the dark power
and take her soul."