When Angels Fall (Demon Lord) (34 page)

“I destroyed the dark god who killed him.”

“So that’s why
there’s so much evil in the world.” She stared into space, her eyes full of despair.

“Yes, but now your goddess has been born, and she will redeem you if you pray to her.”

“Sherinias is born?” She raised her eyes to meet his in a bold glance, her mien oddly bleak, considering his good tidings. “Truly?”

“Yes. How do you know her name?”

“It was foretold centuries ago, but we thought it would never happen.” Her breath caught in a sob. “We had given up hope.”

“Well, it has come to pass, thanks to Kayos.”

“The Grey God? He is here?”

“Yes.” Bane was surprised by how much she knew.

“Then we are saved… Has he come to save us?”

“No.”

She gazed at him with earnest desperation. “Will you help my brother?”

Remembering Tryne’s reference to her strange aura, Bane blinked. H
er soul light was pale, but quite dim, as if part of it was hidden. He frowned. “Who did you sell your soul to?”

Her eyes widened. “I haven’t sold my soul.”

“Yes, you have. You swore a blood oath to someone, promising them your life, did you not?”

“Yes, but -”

“Who did you swear it to?”

“The high priest of my church.” She shook her head. “But I didn’t sell my soul to him. He’s a good man, honourable and pious.”

“He is a demon.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “That’s impossible.”

“This world is rife with demons, and they are tricksters and tormenters. Doubtless he fornicates with the women in his congregation and probably holds unwholesome rituals that involve bloodletting, not so?”

“No! I’ve never… We’ve had a few high masses wh
ere blood was used to bless us, that’s all. He says virgin blood is pure and… He can’t be evil; the church is on hallowed ground!”

“Is there a white flame burning on your altar?”

“No.”

“Then it is not hallowed ground, and your priest is a demon.”

She stared at him, clutching her chest. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You do not. Whether you choose to believe me or not is up to you.
What is your name?”

She hesitated. “Stazia.”

“You are no innocent parishioner, are you? I will wager you are a priestess, are you not?”

She
nodded.

“What did your demon priest tell you?”

“That the three evil monsters have been cast down, replaced by one, and we’d now have more freedom to worship Lord Pretarin.”

“By which he means more bloodlettings and evil
rituals. It is easy for a demon to use a light god’s name to trick people when that god is dead. I am surprised he did not pose as a god himself.”

“He claims to be the one true prophet,” she said.

“He feared the wrath of the dark gods who dwelt here before, so he kept a low profile, but now he grows bold. When you return to your church, fill a cup with clear oil, set a wick in it and place it on the altar, then pray to Sherinias to bless your church.”

“Will Mardon let me do that, if he’s a demon?”

“Does he stand guard at the altar constantly?”

“No, but he never seems far away. He always appears whenever I enter the church.”

“He has set wards, then,” Bane said, “and, since he owns your soul, he can make you do whatever he wants. He also knows where you go, but I suspect he does not have the courage to enter the temple of a dark god to retrieve you.”

“Can you help me?”

“Given that I am a dark god, what do you think?”

“Perhaps I should ask if you will, then.”

“Indeed. But I am here now, and it will take but a moment. I will have to touch you, though.”

Stazia
licked her lips and nodded, but still flinched when Bane placed his hand on her chest, over her heart. He closed his eyes. The silvery tether on her soul, and the dark shroud that engulfed it, shivered when he bent his will upon it, held fast for an instant, and then shattered. At the moment of its shattering, Bane learnt the name of the demon who had cast it. Mardonar. As usual, he used a name similar to his true appellation; demons lacked imagination. Without the shadow shroud, Stazia’s soul shone with pinkish-yellow purity. Bane opened his eyes and removed his hand. She gasped and swayed, her eyes overflowing. He wondered what it was like, to have your spirit freed; probably pretty good. She would be able to experience joy, hope and true faith again.

The Demon Lord
said, “
Torakesh ere
Mardonar.”

The
torch on the wall flared as a demon rushed out of it, taking on a fiery man-shape. Stazia whimpered and shrank away from the demon’s heat, shooting Bane an alarmed glance.

“Do not be afraid,” he said. “He is
under my command now.”

Mardonar bowed. “Demon Lord.”

“So, you know my name. Assume the man-form you used to trick this girl.”

The fire demon swirled
and solidified, taking on the aspect of a spare, white-robed priest with a solemn face, bald pate and glittering black eyes.

Bane
looked at Stazia and gestured to the demon. “Your priest: the fire demon, Mardonar.”

She
gaped at Mardonar. “Why…? Why have you summoned him?”

“A little vengeance is in order, I think, and you need your brother saved. He will do it.”

“How?”

“He is quite capable of killing a black mage.” Bane addressed the demon. “You will obey Stazia in all things, and never harm her, or ask
or order anyone or anything else to harm her. You will protect her, and seek out black priests and warlocks. When you find them, you will order them to give up their evil ways. If they refuse, you will kill them. You will not venture onto holy ground seeking defeat and release. That is all.”

Mardonar bowed again. “As you command, Demon Lord.”

Bane rose to his feet and said to Stazia, “That should sort out your problem. Just do not order him onto hallowed ground, or you will lose his services. If you wish to be rid of him, however, that is the way to do it.”

She managed a timid smile, which her swollen cheek pulled askew.
“Thank you, Lord. Your name will be praised in my church, and all others, once the tale of your goodness reaches them. I shall see to it that it does.”

“I do not want my name chanted. Do not, if you wish to please me. You may leave now
. No one will harm you.”

Stazia
climbed to her feet, clutching her ribs, which, Bane guessed, were as bruised as her face. She darted a sidelong glance at Mardonar, who followed her to the door, and she raised a hand before vanishing through it. Bane pondered what he had done. Giving a summoned demon to a mortal was dangerous. Stazia could abuse the power that controlling a dark entity gave her, but, judging by the purity of her soul, she was unlikely to take advantage of her newfound power. More likely, she would want to be rid of him, and order him onto hallowed ground once he had killed the warlock and freed her brother.

One fire demon would probably be able to intimidate or kill all the black priests in the domain in a few weeks or months, but the warlocks posed a threat. It took a
lot of invocations and rituals for black priests to summon or banish a demon, and only a little less effort for warlocks, but there was a chance that one would banish Mardonar. Bane summoned three more fire demons and two earth demons and ordered them to hunt dark worshippers and shadow wielders too, just in case.

Bane Moved back to the ship and continued on his way to the bridge.
The brief detour had only taken about half an hour, but he had achieved quite a lot, thanks to Tryne’s request. Retribution was ready. The refugees were installed in cabins, and Nikira’s crew of volunteers had reported for duty. They had been allowed to return to their homes to prepare for their journey, say farewell to loved ones or invite them to come along if they wished. Only seven wives, one brother and two husbands had agreed to join the quest. Sherinias had ordered the Oracle to transport them all aboard, and they had been plucked from their homes one by one in flashes of light.

A few crewmen and women hurried past, some nodding
to Bane, out of respect, he assumed. He was glad they seemed to have become accustomed to his presence, although most still wore guarded expressions and gave him a wide berth. Two officers exited the lift as he reached it, and when he entered, three crewmen who had been heading for it stopped. He smiled and pressed the seventh deck button. The bridge was a hive of subdued activity as the ops went about their duties, and the ship approached the realm gate. Bane stood in the gloom at the back of the room and observed the scene in the main screen. Kayos, Sherinias and Drevarin stood within the gate hall, waiting for Retribution and saying their goodbyes.

“Stop fifty yards from the gate,” Nikira ordered.

The ship slowed as the pilot tapped her controls, and the engines’ soft hum died away. Retribution halted, and the ops relaxed, most watching the screen, some glancing at Nikira. Bane Moved to the gate hall beside the trio, which broke off their discussion and turned to face him.

Sherinias inclined her head.
“My Lord.”

“My Lady.”

Kayos and Drevarin smiled, and Kayos asked, “Everything ready?”

“Yes. Sherinias may open the gate.”

The young goddess drew her key from the folds of her gown and approached the mighty portal, her expression sad, but determined. She was still too young to be left in charge of a domain, but they had no choice. Kayos had spent a lot of time with her over the past few days, teaching her how to cope, Bane presumed. The fact that it was a dark domain made it worse, for she would want to right the wrongs, and she could not. Sherinias pressed her key to the rune cluster just within her reach at the centre of the gate. Pearly light filled the runes as the gate began to glow, then the sweet chimes echoed around the hall. The grating of the giant stone lock disengaging came, and the gate began to swing open with stately sloth.

Bane formed an Eye and searched for Dramon and Nomard. The image that formed
was of another dim, sweaty nightclub with flashing lights and drugged patrons. The demon gods sat at a table in the foreground, and raised their tankards towards the Eye. Bane dismissed it and Moved. Rematerialising beside the table, he grasped the twins’ shoulders.

“Time to go, boys.”

Bane Moved again, to Retribution’s hold, and released the demon gods, who, since they had been sitting down, landed on their rumps with a double crash. Nomard’s ale slopped over his wrist, and Dramon’s spilt down his chest.

Nomard switched hands and shook the wet one. “Steady on, old boy. No need for
boorishness.”

Dramon climbed to his feet and gazed around, then took a slurp of ale. “What’s this, a dungeon?”

“A hold,” Bane said, “where you will stay for the duration of the trip. I do not want you two wandering around the ship.”

“No fair, old bean, we want to explore. Interesting things, ships. We haven’t been aboard one before.”

Bane knew he had no chance of preventing the demon gods from doing pretty much as they wished, and shrugged. “Fine, but harm one human, and things get ugly.”

Four
demon hounds appeared in a gloomy corner, following their masters. Since hellhounds did not easily escape dark realms, and when they did, they were weak and these were all powerful, Bane concluded that they had been summoned at some stage, and their summoners had perished, freeing the hounds.

He gestured to them.
“Begone!”

The
hellhounds froze, then melted away, their shadows sinking into the floor.

Nomard jumped up. “Hey! What happened to ‘no harm to you and yours’?”

“I did not harm them.”

“You bloody well dismissed them!”

“You really think I am going to leave them loose aboard this ship?”

“Yes!”

Bane snorted. “Think again. I will summon them when your task is done, and if you behave yourselves, I might even give you control of them. How would you like that?”

The twins glanced at each other, and Nomard shrugged. “That would be…
okay.”

“I
will bet.”

Bane Moved back to the gate hall, where the gate was almost open, and Kayos hugged his weeping daughter. Drevarin turned to Bane and pulled a wry face, and the two waited while the Grey God patted Sherinias’ back and murmured soft, comforting words.
Bane went to the gateway and gazed at the abandoned city outside. The fire dome, or what was left of it, was gone, and the buildings were dark. As he contemplated it, a few lights appeared on the far side of the city, rose and flew towards them. When they drew nearer, he made out the sleek silver shape of a stealth ship. So, one had been left in the Wastes. It was just as well they had opened the gate one last time.