Dark God (8 page)

"No one will invade your room if
you are horrible to them."

"Good." He paused, frowning.
"Anyway, I did nothing to her."

"You could see she was terrified
of you. Why scare her?"

He shrugged. "It was fun." His
eyes slid away from her accusing gaze. "And I do not enjoy being
stared at like some loathsome thing that just crawled out from
under a rock."

Mirra nodded, regretting her
urge to have Bane meet Tallis, for he was right, Tallis had stared
at him with deep loathing and fear. It would take a long time for
anyone to get to know Bane, and overcome his or her initial,
natural revulsion for what he was. Perhaps, once he was purged,
things would change, but no one who knew who he was would ever
treat him as a normal person. Bringing Tallis to meet him had been
a mistake, rubbing salt into the wounds of his torn and battered
ego, and probably making him feel like a monster. Eager to put the
unfortunate incident behind her, she changed the subject.

"Did you tend to your cut?"

"Yes."

She hunted for something else to
say, for Bane's cold silence did not make an atmosphere conducive
to conversation. "Is there anything you would like?"

He nodded, relaxing somewhat,
his scowl easing. "Some wine, so I can get nice and drunk."

"We do not have any wine."

Bane let his head fall back
against the wall with a bonk. "Wonderful."

She laid a hand on his chest,
longing to make amends for the hurtful meeting with Tallis and
hoping her fearless touch would atone for Tallis's adverse
reaction. "I could stay if you want to talk."

He brushed her hand away,
turning his face to the wall. "No, leave me alone."

Mirra's heart bled for him, but
his constant rejection frustrated her. "That is why you like being
alone, is it not? They left you alone, down there, until you
convinced yourself that you preferred to be alone, so they could
not hurt you. You -"

He sat up.
"Get out! I do not need you poking into my mind. Go and play with
your little
friend
." He sneered
the word.

"You are my friend too." She
tried to grab him, to shake some sense into him, but Bane was off
the bed and on the other side of the room.

"Leave me alone!"

Mirra stood
up, intending to go after him and convince him that she wanted his
company and longed for his friendship, but
, at that moment, the door opened. Ellese stood in it,
and Bane spun to glare at her.

Ellese said, "Mirra, leave him
alone. He does not want your friendship. He does not want
anyone's."

Bane sneered, "Been spying
again, old woman?"

"No, I heard the shouting
outside. No one wants to torment you."

"Damn you," he growled, his
hands curling into fists.

"Why, because I understand you?
Because I want to help you?"

Bane sat on the bed and bowed
his head, wings of hair sliding forward to hide his face. Ellese
pushed Mirra out of the door and closed it. Bane raised his head,
then found that he was not alone, as he had thought. He turned away
with an angry grunt.

Ellese gazed at him with soft
sincerity, knowing that the fate of the world relied on someone
convincing this bitter, twisted young man that he belonged with his
own kind, needed to help them reclaim their world, and that they
would accept him. The last part was the hardest, for she could
promise nothing from the public in general, only for herself and a
few others. She had so little to give in return for his help, which
would be a monumental feat. Ellese smiled wryly at the poor bargain
she offered.

Save the
Overworld, Bane, go up against a powerful dark god, and perhaps
lose your life in the process. In return, if you survive, you will
have the gratitude and friendship of two healers, and perhaps the
grudging respect of the rest of mankind, but possibly rejection and
murderous hatred.
Not much of
a deal. She could not say that the Black Lord would destroy Bane if
he did not fight, for she did not know that for certain. If he
posed no threat, the Black Lord might very well leave him alone,
rather than challenge him. She sighed, waiting until he raised icy
eyes to her face and reading the hostility in them.

"We are not demons," she told
him. "We are humans, your own kind. That longing for company you
had long ago is perfectly normal. We have it too. It is not a
weakness. Mirra will not taunt you or deny it to you. She is a very
kind girl."

"I do not need
her
kindness
." He spat
the last word with loathing.

"No, of course not. You do not
need anyone." Ellese cringed inwardly. She was not saying it well.
"But did you ever consider that we might need you?"

"To destroy the Black Lord."

"No." She sat on the chair,
grateful he had not tacked a 'why should I' onto that statement.
"At one time, Mirra needed your protection from the demons, which
was one of the reasons you did it. No one had ever needed you
before, but she was helpless, reliant on you, and you did not let
her down, did you? You almost killed yourself to save her."

"It was a challenge."

Ellese ignored
him. "Now she is safe. She does not appear to need you
anymore, and you resent that. But
you are wrong; she still needs you, and so do I."

"What for?"

"To talk to, to be with, to
share our hopes and dreams, fears and disappointments."

"You can do that with
anyone."

"Not really. You are special to
us."

Bane snorted in patent disbelief
and lay down, clasping his hands behind his head.

Ellese searched for the right
words. "I know I am rushing this, but we have so little time."

"Why would you care? Why am I
special to you?"

"After so many years of caring
about you, I feel I know you, and that makes you special to me. You
are like the son I never had."

"My mother is dead."

Elder Mother nodded. "But your
father is not."

Bane raised his head to stare at
her with an almost comically startled expression, then his guard
slammed into place. "What of it?"

"Would you like to meet
him?"

"He does not even know I
exist."

Ellese smiled. "No, but I am
sure he would be overjoyed."

"The lusty woodcutter."

"The Black Lord told you that?"
Ellese's heart sank. What lies had the Black Lord filled Bane's
head with?

"A lusty woodcutter and a love
sick peasant girl."

"Yes, your father is a woodsman,
and your mother was a peasant girl. They loved each other very
much."

"So they conceived me. How
sweet." His voice dripped scorn.

Ellese glared at him, angered by
his attitude. "Yes, they did. Why is that so repugnant to you?"

"I am the product of some lusty
roll in the hay, an afternoon's fornication under a hedgerow. That
hardly fills me with respect for them."

Ellese's voice softened with
sadness, understanding. "Your parents were married for two years.
You would have been their first-born son. You were planned. Very
much wanted. They would have adored you. Your father has pined for
your mother for twenty years."

Bane stared at the ceiling, his
brows knotted, breathing deeply through flared nostrils. She could
sense his rage building from across the room. He seemed to radiate
it in cold waves, and she wondered if he would control it, or
explode. His moods were unpredictable in the extreme.

Bane leapt up in a smooth bound
and hurled himself against the wall, pounding it with his fist, his
forehead pressed to the cold stone. "Damn him! Damn him!"

The thudding of his fist
reverberated around the room, the blows so hard that the rough
stone cut into his skin. Startled and concerned, Ellese went to him
and put a comforting hand on his back, although he flinched from
her touch. She did not need to remind herself that this was a man
who teetered on the brink of self-destruction, whose loathing for
the world was only outstripped by his wish to quit it.

The only reason he still lived
was the tenuous, misunderstood hold that Mirra had on his heart. If
he decided that that was not a good enough reason to continue
living, they would lose him, and, with him, their only hope of
survival. It was important that he should find other reasons to
live, other people who might accept and love him, which was why she
had told him about his father. This was not the reaction she had
expected when he learnt that he had a real father, however. His
lacerated fist left bloody marks on the wall, and she tried to stop
his pounding arm.

"Stop it, Bane."

His fist opened, and he spread
his hand against the stone. Blood ran down the wall in a crimson
streak, dripping from his hand.

"Would you like to meet him?"
she asked.

Bane pushed himself away from
the wall. His face looked like it was carved from stone. "No."

"Why?"

"How will he like it, to find
that his son is the Demon Lord?"

"It will not matter. You are his
son. He will love you, no matter what you are. You look like your
mother. Perhaps he can tell you what your real name is."

He glared at her. "My name is
Bane. The curse. The blight."

"The Black Lord named you that,
not your father."

"But that is what I am. That is
how people will think of me, including him."

"No, that is only what the Black
Lord intended you to be. It is not what you are."

Bane sank down on the bed,
holding his injured hand so the blood dripped onto the floor. His
eyes had turned cold again, or had they ever warmed?

"Why should I risk my life for a
bunch of ungrateful, dirty humans? Tell me that, old woman. What do
I get out of it?"

Ellese took a deep breath. There
it was, the question she dreaded, the gauntlet flung down. She
mustered her scattering thoughts, which tried to flutter away and
leave her with a blank, useless mind, and marshalled them. Only the
truth would do. She sat down on the chair again.

"Not much, I am afraid. You will
free the Overworld from the rule of the monster who put you through
so much. You will have your revenge on him, I suppose. But since
the Overworld means little to you, that is not much of a reward.
You will be saving countless people, including your father."

Bane snorted, which told her
that this held little weight with him. Ellese wished that he had
already been purged, then small things like that would mean much
more to him. She played her trump.

"You would be saving Mirra,
too."

The Demon Lord shot her a look
so icy that Ellese could have sworn that the temperature in the
room dropped by several degrees. "Do not use the girl as a
bargaining point, old woman. Your spell may fail yet."

"What spell?" Ellese frowned,
confused.

"The spell you cast on me. If it
was not her doing, then it was yours. Do not lie about it now."

Elder Mother
sat back as understanding dawned. Unbidden, her lips curled in a
smile and laugh
ter bubbled in
her throat.

Bane leapt to his feet, his
expression murderous. "You smile? You dare to mock me? You think I
am so thoroughly entranced that I am helpless to fight back? The
only one I am constrained to save is that damned girl, the rest of
you can rot in Hell!"

Ellese shrank
from his ire, her smile fading. "I do not mock you, I only... There
is no spell, at least not one that any of us cast, for we do not
use that kind of magic. That which you call a spell, for it is so
alien to you, is a perfectly natural feeling you have developed for
Mirra, commonly found between men and women, and
, to a lesser extent, between friends. It is
called love."

"No!" His
rejection was so fierce it startled her. "I cannot feel such
things. I am not capable of it. I have no wish to...
love
... anyone."

"It is not something you can
control, I am afraid."

"You lie! I do not believe you.
The Black Lord made me immune to such things. He cut out my heart,
I watched him do it."

Ellese recoiled in shock. This
was something she had not seen, for she had not been able to watch
him constantly. She shook her head. "That was an illusion. If he
had truly cut out your heart, you would be dead."

He sat on the bed again, looking
tired, his rage burnt out. "Even if what you say is true, and I do
not see why I should believe you, that still does not convince me
to save this foul world. I would rather live in the
Underworld."

Sadness washed through Ellese.
There was simply no good way to persuade Bane to fight the Black
Lord. There was nothing she could offer him. "It would redeem you
in the eyes of your people. You would be a hero, even if they never
accepted you. Your father would be proud of you."

He ran a hand through his hair,
and his face relaxed a little, as if the dark power momentarily
loosened its grip on him. "My people, who hate me, my father, who
has never met me. These reasons are not convincing. And do not tell
me that I owe the girl my life. I had no wish to live when she
saved me."

"That is not true. If you truly
had not wished to live, you would not have." She leant forward.
"Was it because you wanted to stay with Mirra, or because you
wanted vengeance on the Black Lord for what he did to you?"

"It was because she kept feeding
me that damned potion."

Ellese smiled. "So, you wanted
to stay with her."

"I did not say that."

"You did not have to. It is
true, is it not?"

He shrugged. "It may be."

"There is no shame in it."