Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain (15 page)

The officer
checked his instruments. “They’re still deployed.”

A faint shudder
ran through the ship as it settled on the ground, and the strident
voice issued from the coms console again, demanding that they
leave. Sarjan hesitated, wondering if the stranger intended to
rescue the ragged people outside, which seemed likely.

He keyed the
transmitter. “I have orders to capture these people, Revenant.
Break off your attack and recall your troops.”

The bridge crew
gawked at him, and a short silence fell, then Revenant’s coms-op
asked, “On whose authority?”

“President
Randoman.”

The pilot made
a strangled sound, and Sarjan glared at him. The tinny voice issued
from the coms console again. “I’ll have to confirm that,
Miraculous.”

“Break off your
attack, Revenant.”

Sarjan closed
the connection, and the pilot demanded, “What are you doing,
Commander?”

“If we tell
them we’re not in control of this ship, what do you think they’ll
do?”

The pilot
frowned. “Attack us.”

“I’m just
buying us some time.”

“Then
what?”

“Then it’s up
to the stranger.”

“Who...?” A
flashing light on his console distracted the pilot. “The outer door
is opening, sir.”

Sarjan left the
bridge at a trot, punched the first floor button in the lift and
paced around it as it descended. When he reached the hull door, it
was open and the ramp extended. The stranger stood at the bottom of
it, beckoning to the people who hid amongst the rocks. He glowed,
and the people ran towards him with relieved, hopeful expressions.
Sarjan descended the ramp and glanced up at the hovering warships.
The ground troops watched, their weapons lowered, and those who
guarded captured refugees freed them. The first of the ragged
fugitives raced up the ramp, gasping with fear and fatigue.

The stranger
turned to Sarjan. “Why do the ships not attack now?”

“I told them
not to, but it won’t last long. You’ll have to hurry.”

“You are
helping us?”

Sarjan met his
gaze. “I’m trying to save my ship. If I’d told them the truth,
they’d have attacked.”

“Rest assured,
I will protect it, and those within it.”

“Who are
you?”

The stranger
smiled. “I am Drevarin, a lord of the light.”

“Why are you
doing this?”

“To save these
people from yours, who would slaughter them. It is unfortunate that
I had to use your ship, but with Bane and Kayos unconscious within
it, I had little choice.”

Sarjan stepped
out of the path of a panting woman, who ran past. “Why?”

“I am unwilling
to leave them unprotected, either in your ship, or in the light
realm, which is not safe now. Had I returned here alone, I would
have had to form another shield to guard these people until Bane
awoke. Even if I had taken him to the light realm, there are many
dangers afoot, demons and such, which could have slain him while he
was helpless. This was the best way.”

Sarjan watched
a girl in a sparkling, lacy dress walk amongst the rocks. She
touched a fallen man, who rose and ran towards the ship. “Who’s
she?”

“Lady
Sherinias, your goddess.”

“I don’t
believe in gods.”

“Whether you do
or not makes no difference. You dwell in her domain. Its fate and
that of all your people rest with her.”

“She’s just a
girl.”

“Yes, she was
only born three days ago.” Drevarin studied Sarjan, making him
shift with unease. “Why did you not try to kill Lord Bane while he
was injured?”

“I swore I
wouldn’t.”

“I see. But you
were trying to help him, were you not?”

Sarjan nodded.
“He saved my ship, and he’s human, no matter what else he may
be.”

“A dra’voren;
the most powerful, evil and feared being known to you? A strange
choice.”

“Is that what
he is?”

“No, but that
is what you believe he is, or do you doubt it?”

An elderly man
collapsed at the bottom of the ramp, and two others hauled him to
his feet and helped him up it.

Sarjan said, “I
don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Good, then you
may well be on the road to redemption.”

“What are
you?”

Drevarin
smiled. “One of those in whom you do not believe.”

“You’re
claiming to be a god?”

“I am stating a
fact.”

The last of the
refugees hurried towards the ship, amongst them Commander Nikira,
who aided a grey-haired woman in a white robe. The girl in the
sparkling dress followed, apparently unconcerned by the danger of
the hovering warships. As they reached Drevarin, the old woman fell
to her knees, bowed her head and clasped her hands. The rest of her
group, including Nikira, did the same.

“Thank you for
saving us again, Lord,” the woman said. “A thousand praises upon
your name.”

Drevarin
inclined his head. “I am pleased to assist you, Sarrin.”

“Is Lord Bane
all right?”

“He is.”

A fair-haired
girl in a white gown trotted up the ramp and stopped in front of
Drevarin. “Where is my husband? How does he fare?”

“He is
recovering.”

“I must see
him.”

“And so you
shall, very soon.” Drevarin glanced up at the warships. “Go inside
now.”

She followed
the little group, and Sherinias approached Drevarin, smiling at
him.

Sarjan caught
Nikira’s arm as the group passed him, halting her. “What are you
doing here?”

She wrenched
free. “Seeking the sanctuary of the gods.”

“You believe
these are -?”

“Yes.” Nikira
swung away and marched up the ramp.

Drevarin
followed her as the warships opened fire and the troops charged
towards Miraculous. Sarjan strode into the ship, and Drevarin
touched the locking unit beside the door. The ramp retracted and
the door closed, shutting out the rain of blue fire that left
molten spots on the dusty ground. Drevarin looked vague for a
moment, then set off along the corridor, the blonde girl beside
him. The ragged group followed, and Sarjan fell in behind. He
wondered why no alarms were going off, since the warships
undoubtedly fired at Miraculous now.

Drevarin led
them to the containment room, where the two engineers who were
repairing the damaged consoles retreated when he frowned at them.
He pointed at the door, and they scuttled out. The blonde girl
hurried to the observation window and gazed through it, her
expression anguished. Drevarin gestured at the shredder room door,
and it opened, allowing her to go in.

Sarjan entered
behind the group. Sarrin and the girl knelt beside Bane; the men
stood nearby, their expressions relieved, but hard. The girl picked
up Bane’s hand and held it to her cheek, her eyes overflowing.
Sherinias sank to her knees on the other side of him with a rustle
of sleek fabric and placed a hand on his chest. Nikira stood by the
wall, chewing her lip, and Sarjan went over to her.

“What happened
to you? The last I heard you were to be executed for treason.”

She nodded at
Bane. “He saved me.”

“Why?”

“Because I
asked him to? How should I know? I prayed, and he came just as they
were about to slit me open so they could have a good look at my
insides while I died.”

He raised his
eyebrows, surprised. “Disembowelment?”

“I believe
that’s what it’s called.”

“But you...” He
shook his head. “Everyone’s gone nuts.”

“What about
you? Why are you here?”

“I wasn’t given
a choice.”

“Your ship’s
damaged. How did that happen?”

“A dra’voren
attacked us,” he said.

“Let me guess;
Bane saved you.”

“Yes.”

“And you still
think he’s a dra’voren?”

Sarjan scowled
at the floor. “I don’t know.”

“You prayed to
him?”

“I... asked for
his help.”

She smiled.
“Was he within earshot at the time?”

“No.”

“You prayed to
him, Sarjan, get over it.”

Sherinias
looked up at Drevarin. “Where is my father?”

“Somewhere in
this room.”

“There’s
another man over there.” Sarjan pointed to the corner where the
invisible man lay.

Drevarin went
over and bent to grope around until his hands vanished, then smiled
at Sherinias. “He is here.”

She cast Sarjan
a smile, her beauty making his heart skip a beat. “It pleases me
that you did not harm my brother. What is your name and title?”

“Commander
Sarjan... My Lady.”

“You have some
manners too, how nice.” Her gazed flicked to Nikira. “As yet,
Nikira is the only one of my people who believes in me, and now she
must flee to another domain, lest they slay her. Is that not
sad?”

“Yes, My
Lady.”

Sherinias rose
and approached him, her gown dazzling in the bright light. “You
have seen much, and my brother saved you. If you believe in me, I
shall reward you.”

“I... What do
you mean?”

“I am your
goddess, Sarjan. Believe that, and you will be saved, and spared.”
She raised her chin, her eyes glowing like sapphires. “Pray to me,
and I shall grant your wishes. Have faith in me, and I shall bless
you with happiness. Spread the word of your beliefs, and I shall
spare those who follow your guidance.”

“Spare them
from what?”

“My people
scorn me. They do not believe in me, and they have fallen into evil
ways. Those who do not walk in the light will be at the mercy of
the darkness. They will suffer and die, for I cannot save them.
They have been without guidance for too long. The world gate has
stood open all these centuries, and my people have been reborn
tainted.”

“Then it’s not
their fault.”

“No, it is not,
but in order for my rule to be restored, they must be cleansed. My
domain is rife with demons, and soon it will be filled with tainted
spirits, for I shall cast out those that now dwell in the White
City. They do not belong there. I shall appear to my people and
inform them of my birth, but the only way to redeem those who
refuse to believe in me is for them to die.”

Sarjan stepped
back, chilled. “I... I must see to my ship.”

“Consider it. I
offer you a singular opportunity to redeem yourself. Take it.”

“I’ll... think
about it.”

Sarjan left the
shredder room, his mind whirling. There were too many questions and
no answers when it came to these strange beings. His people had
once had religion, but it had been outlawed centuries ago, due to
the infighting that had gone on between the various sects. The
original church had worshipped a creator called Pretarin, but now
almost everyone in Bayona was an atheist, except for a few small,
rabid cults that clung to the old ways, and they kept a low
profile. From what he had recently learnt, he surmised that the
root of the problem had probably been dra’voren leading people
astray. By the time the technology that detected fiends and
dra’voren had been invented, religion had been all but
forgotten.

On the bridge,
the officers gazed at the main screen with patent disbelief. A
faint blue haze partially obscured the view of the warships that
strafed Miraculous with light guns, to no effect.

“Report,”
Sarjan ordered.

The nearest
officer glanced at him. “It’s amazing, sir. They’ve been attacking
us for half an hour, and it hasn’t even set off the alarms.”

“They’ve fired
missiles twice,” another officer added, “and they had absolutely no
effect. They exploded, but we felt nothing.”

“It’s like
there’s a shield around us,” the pilot remarked.

“What about the
fires and the generator?” Sarjan asked.

“All the fires
are out, and the engineers estimate two hours on the generator
repairs. All the survivors have been rescued.”

“Good.” Sarjan
gazed at the screen. “It seems we have powerful guests.”

“Who are they,
sir?”

“A better
question would be: what are they? But I’m not sure about that. If
you believe what they say, they’re gods.”

The navigation
officer snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“What do you
think, Commander?” the pilot enquired.

Sarjan shook
his head. “I don’t know. Dra’voren can’t heal, yet the one called
Drevarin did just that. If Commander Nikira’s right, he’s a
creator, and so is the invisible one.”

“Why would a
creator help a dra’voren?”

“He wouldn’t,
which can only mean the Demon Lord isn’t one.”

“Let’s not jump
to too many hasty conclusions, sir.”

“What other
conclusion could there possibly be?”

“Retribution
collected a lot of data,” the pilot said, “even a vidimage of a
supposed fight between two dra’voren, yet no one believes it.”

“They don’t
want to believe it, because if they do, they’ll have to accept that
a dra’voren can be good, which is hard to swallow. They’ll also
have to accept that there are three creators with him, helping him,
when no one’s ever seen a creator. They’re the stuff of
legends.”

Chapter
Seven

Recovery

Drevarin looked
around as a hand clasped his shoulder. Kayos sat beside him on the
cloud couch he had created for himself and Sherinias. The Grey God
smiled, and his eyes flicked to Bane, who lay on another couch in
the centre of the room. Ethra and Sarrin sat on the floor next to
it; Mirra was beside him, holding his hand, while the men and
Nikira sat with their backs against the wall. They had left the
room only for calls of nature during the past nine hours, and
Nikira had fetched strange food for all of them. From the startled
glances they cast in his direction, Drevarin deduced that he had
just vanished, joining Kayos within his light shield.

“You healed
him,” Kayos said. “Once more I owe you a debt of gratitude.”