Demon Lord IV - Lord of Shadows (9 page)

Perhaps he
could warm the stone as Bane had done. He had not tried it before.
Laying his hand on the rock, he channelled the blue power into it,
letting it flow out of him with as little effort as possible, since
he was already so tired. Several minutes passed with no warmth from
the stone, then, as he was about to give up, he detected the
faintest rise in temperature. It was working, but with far more
effort on his part than it had taken on Bane's. Perhaps too much.
He needed warmth, though. Without it he would die.

Shrea looked
up from the fire that she had built in the cave, glad that she had
brought oil soaked wood in anticipation of her need for warmth when
she had learnt of her destination. The sixth ward was chiselled
into the cave wall a few paces away, blue powder packed into its
grooves, ready for activation. The ward was linked to a smooth grey
stone at the bottom of the well of water at the back of the cave,
warmed by the heat of the earth and reeking of sulphur. The stone
would have to be shattered before the ward could be broken, if
anyone ever tried. First, however, they would have to retrieve the
stone, and the well appeared to be deep. Now she waited, tending
her fire and heating tea from her supplies. Only when the seventh
ward had been activated could she activate the sixth.

The sound that
had made her look up came again. A scuffling and scraping, like
rocks breaking and falling. She stood up, pulling her coat around
her and glancing at the ward. Rocks did occasionally break off the
mountain and fall of their own accord, loosened by the changes in
temperature and the ceaseless, eroding wind that whistled through
the crags. It could also be something or someone climbing the steep
slopes, however. Perhaps a mountain goat, if she was lucky, but if
it was one of Vorkon's minions, he must not discover the ward. It
seemed unlikely that one such would be out here on this remote,
bleak mountain, but she could not afford to take any chances.

Vorkon would
have instructed his minions to seek out blue mages, and perhaps one
had sensed her presence. Her powers of illusion were weak, but
sufficient to cover the ward with a glamour. She whispered the
spell, accompanied by the complex, fluid hand movements that aided
its casting. The glamour formed, covering the ward with an illusion
of stone. Satisfied that it was hidden, she crept to the cave
entrance and peered out into the freezing wind and sleeting black
snow.

Further down
the slope, a huge, earthen form moved across the rocks, its six
long arms gripping the crags and hauling it up as it climbed
towards the cave. She drew back with a gasp, her breath steaming in
the cold air. Terror chilled her heart. It was heading straight for
the cave, and there was nowhere to hide within it. If it trapped
her here, she stood little chance against it, but outside she might
have a slight hope of eluding it, or perhaps defeating it, although
she was already tired.

If she fled,
she would also draw it away from the ward, which was vital. The
prospect of an earth demon chasing her down the treacherous slope
made her heart pound, and she considered praying for help. The
Demon Lord could destroy it in a moment, but she did not want to
summon him unless it was absolutely necessary. At least she could
if she had to, and that thought calmed her. Having a dark god as an
ally was special indeed.

Her mind made
up, she went back and stamped out the fire, pushed her bag of
supplies into a cranny, then returned to the entrance. The demon
was making good progress. What was it doing way out here? Perhaps
it was not one of Vorkon's, in which case it might not even attack
her. But that seemed doubtful.

As far a she
knew, demons did not spend time in the wilderness for amusement;
they either sported in the cities and towns, or stayed in the
Darkworld. There was nothing to amuse them out here. Even if it was
Vorkon's, it might be looking for Bane, not blue mages. Bolstered
by this hope, she slipped out into the frigid wind and crept
downwards, angling away from the demon. She moved as quietly as she
could, keeping any available crags between herself and it.

Kayos leant
forward and patted Bane's cheek. "Come on, come on. Time to wake up
now."

The plump,
middle-aged high priestess, who had come to pay homage to Kayos
upon learning of his presence, stared at Bane, her expression a
mixture of wonder and loathing. Shevra knew how she felt. How could
someone so beautiful be evil? Black mages often used their looks to
seduce women, then tortured or sacrificed them when they grew
bored. Even with their reputation, women could not resist their
charms, and she could see why. Black sorceresses were just as bad,
and just as irresistible, but much rarer. The girl who sat beside
Bane, holding his hand in both of hers, was obviously in love with
him. It shone in her eyes as she gazed down at him, and Shevra
wondered what she was to him. The older man also looked concerned
and sad, and he bore a resemblance to Bane.

Bane had not
so much as a twitched an eyelid, and Kayos was clearly worried. He
had used his healing power again to assure himself that Bane was
completely healed, but apparently he was. At least an hour had
passed since their arrival and Bane's healing. Shevra was refreshed
after a quick warm bath and a hearty meal of thick broth and fresh
bread, which Patrin had shared, although he had declined a bath.
The priestesses had given her a pale brown acolyte's robe to wear,
since her grey dress was torn and filthy. Patrin had found a long
curtain rail to use as a staff, and many of the priestesses had
armed themselves with kitchen knives or sticks of firewood. They
stood around the white flame in the chapel, ready to protect
it.

A crash came
from the corridor, followed by a scream, and Kayos looked up with a
frown. The high priestess hurried to the door, and Shevra followed
her. The corridor led directly to the chapel, and she could see the
altar from the doorway. Two men stood in the corridor, one clad in
black, the other a dirty soldier who walked towards the chapel like
an automaton. Am acolyte had dropped a flask of water and fled to
join her sisters in the chapel, causing the crash and scream.
Shevra flung a glance at Kayos.

"They're
here."

"A black
mage?"

"Yes. And
another man."

Kayos rose and
walked towards her, and she stepped from his path. The high
priestess also stepped aside as he brushed past her, heading for
the mage. He vanished as the mage glanced up the passage at her,
then started towards her. Shevra stepped back, but the mage only
took three strides before he stopped, his eyes widening. White fire
ignited on his shoulder and swept over him, engulfing him in a
mantle of pure flame, a glimmering blue nimbus edging it. He gave a
choked cry and fell backwards, clawing at his throat as if someone
was strangling him. Kayos reappeared beside him, gazing down at
him. The mage writhed and thrashed, his lips turning blue as he
choked and gaped. He struggled to breathe, holding out his hands to
Kayos in a pleading gesture. The Grey God turned and walked back to
the room, his expression shuttered.

Shevra's
stomach clenched as she watched the warlock's struggles lessen
until he lay still, and the white fire winked out. She glanced at
Kayos, who sat beside Bane again.

"Is he
dead?"

He nodded, not
looking at her. "I hate killing. Mostly, I cannot. Only mortals who
use the dark power."

Her eyes
flicked to Bane. "Like him?"

"Yes."

"But you
wouldn't.."

Kayos raised
his eyes to meet hers, their silver gaze piercing. "He is my
son."

"I didn't know
light gods could kill at all."

Shevra turned
to gaze down the corridor as a ruckus started in the chapel, where
the soldier had reached the wall of priestesses and began to push
his way through them. At first he thrust them aside, and they tried
to hold him back, but then he started beating them with his fists.
They endeavoured to pin his arms, but he seemed to possess inhuman
strength, hurling them aside.

The warrior
and Patrin tried to reach the man, but the crowd of priestesses
blocked their path. Several were knocked down with pained yelps,
others started to hit the soldier with their fists. Still he forged
ahead, apparently immune to pain, and a few brought their weapons
into play, bashing him with pots and faggots. Even so, he did not
stop, although he stumbled under the blows, and blood seeped from
his hair. Bile stung Shevra's throat, and she turned away, glancing
at Kayos, who had buried his face in his hands.

"Tell them to
kill him," he muttered. "He will not stop until he is dead."

Shevra gulped
and ran down the corridor to the chapel. The man staggered and
reeled, his face covered in blood, his eyes wide and wild.

"Kill him!"
she cried, and many of the women shot her disgusted, incredulous
looks. "Kayos orders it."

The
priestesses hesitated, their faces twisted with pity and horror,
then two stepped up and stabbed the man with long kitchen knives.
He fell to his knees, blood running from the wounds in his chest
and back, still yearning towards the white flame, then fell face
down and lay still.

Shevra went to
a window and leant out to vomit. The blood splattered priestesses
ran out, some to be sick as well, she suspected, others to change
their clothes or pray for their souls. A few, who had not taken
part in the scrimmage, remained to guard the flame, averting their
eyes from the dead man. Patrin came over to her and laid a
comforting hand on her shoulder as she huddled next to the wall, a
hand over her mouth.

"Are you all
right?"

"No!"

He patted her
back. "It's horrible, I know. Even though I've seen plenty of it,
it still turns my stomach."

"Is that
supposed to make me feel better? I'm not ashamed to be sickened by
it."

"Nor should
you be."

"He was from
our camp, one of your men."

He nodded. "I
don't know his name, but I recognised him."

Shevra brushed
past him and ran down the passage to Bane's room, needing to be in
his presence again. Somehow it was his presence that she yearned
for, not Kayos', although the Grey God's was serene and comforting,
Bane's brought her more security. Kayos still sat on the bed, his
head in his hands. He looked up when she came in.

"He will send
more," he stated. "And we will have to kill them."

"Couldn't you
have saved him, Lord?"

"No. He was
under a geas, nothing could have stopped him. If you had tied him
up, he would have chewed through the ropes. He would have chewed
through his own arm."

"You can't
lift a geas?"

"Not a dark
one. He could have." He nodded at Bane.

She sank down
on the chair, gazing at the comatose dark god. "When will he wake,
Lord?"

"I do not
know, but until he does, everything is going to keep going horribly
wrong."

Just then
Bane's eyelids flickered, and he groaned softly. The girl who kept
vigil beside him tensed, her eyes brightening with hope as she
glanced at Kayos, who leant over him, scanning his face and shaking
his shoulder.

"Yes, Bane.
Come on, wake up."

Shevra held
her breath as Bane's jaw clenched, and his eyes flicked to and fro
behind their lids. He groaned again, then his lips parted, and he
whispered, "Shrea."

Kayos'
expression became dismayed. "No. Not Shrea."

Bane's brows
drew together. "Shrea."

The Grey God
bowed his head. "No."

"Who's Shrea?"
Shevra asked.

"A blue mage.
If she dies..."

"Can't you
help her?"

"I could, if
not for Vorkon. If she is in danger it can only mean that one of
his minions has found her. If I go to her, he will be informed and
come for me."

"You could
bring her here, like you did Bane."

He gazed at
her sadly. "If I do, Vorkon will wonder what she was doing there,
and then he might..."

"What?"

"It is better
that you do not know." He looked pensive. "But I could..." He
paused. "Syrin!"

Shevra almost
fell off her chair as a glowing figure stepped from the air. The
huge white wings were folded on her back, and she gazed at Kayos
with an unreadable expression, her hands folded before her. The
blonde girl, whose silence was starting to bother Shevra, stared at
the angel with wide eyes, as did the older man.

"You need my
help, great Kayos?" Syrin asked in a musical voice.

He frowned at
her. "Yes, and it is no easy task."

She smiled
coyly, her eyes bright. "Ask then."

"Help Shrea.
You know where she is. Protect her."

The angel
tilted her head. "From what?"

Kayos waved
his hand, and an Eye appeared before him. He gazed into it, his
expression becoming bleak, and Syrin's eyes widened. Kayos looked
up at her.

"Your
nemesis."

"You ask too
much."

The Grey God
stood up. "Defend her, Syrin. Be an avenging angel."

"An Avenger,"
Syrin breathed, apparently entranced by the idea, much as it
frightened her.

"Yes. Go,
hurry. She has not much time."

"I -"

"Go!" Kayos
thundered.

Syrin pouted,
shot Shevra a cold glance and stepped into the air, vanishing.
Shevra realised that she was holding her breath and let it out in a
sigh. "The angel."

Kayos looked
bitter. "And she will make me pay for this."

"How did he
know?" She looked at Bane, who still groaned softly.

"Shrea prays
to him."

Chapter Five

Sanctuary