Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain (21 page)

“I’ll come,
too.”

“I must see if
any of the others are hurt,” Mirra said.

Out in the
corridor again, they encountered Grem hurrying back towards them,
Ethra and Sarrin at his heels. “These two are all right,” he said,
“just bumps and scrapes.”

Mirra healed
Ethra’s bruised hip and Sarrin’s sprained wrist, then followed Grem
as he went to check on the rest of the refugees. Bane gazed after
her, wishing she was not so busy when he would rather have kept her
close. Then again, he reminded himself, she could not be harmed,
and he wanted to know what had happened. He set off for the mess
hall where Drevarin was usually to be found, Mithran, Ethra and
Sarrin following.

Nikira tensed
as two grey frigates loomed out of the mist ahead, both hovering
higher than Retribution was capable of flying. The sleek warships
had four missile tubes in stubby protrusions on their bellies and
light guns mounted on their bows. Nikira was not trained for
warfare; stealth ships carried missiles for use against dangerous
dark creatures, or dra’voren, as a last-ditch defence, or sometimes
to blast through obstacles. Normally, pitting a stealth ship
against two heavily armed and armoured frigates would be suicide,
and she glanced at Drevarin, who watched the screen with a serene
expression. It still amazed her that he could provide the ship with
impregnable shields without any apparent effort.

The warships
fired at Miraculous again, but the missiles exploded harmlessly
against the pale shield. The detonations blew away most of the
diamond sand around it, exposing what appeared to be a sheet of
polished obsidian sprinkled with tiny lights.

The coms
console hissed and a tinny voice issued from it. “This is
Perseverance. What are you doing here, Retribution? And why have
you stopped sending us scanner info?”

“Don’t answer
that,” Nikira ordered as the communications officer reached for the
key that would open a connection with the warship.

“Commander?”

“They’ll find
out soon enough. Target their engines and generators. Let’s do as
much damage as we can without killing anybody.”

The weapon
systems officer ran his hands over his console. “Targets acquired,
Commander.”

“Full volley.
Fire.”

A soft boom
came from far below the bridge, and an instant later four missiles
came into view, flames and smoke pouring from their tails. Two
struck the nearer warship just aft of the crews’ quarters in a
bright burst of fire, the faint thuds of the explosions reaching
them as the other two missiles hit the farther ship. When the smoke
and flames cleared, two sizeable indentations in the closer ship’s
hull had small holes at their centres, testament to the strength of
the warship’s armour. The second vessel was similarly damaged.

“Reload and
re-arm,” Nikira ordered.

“You’re going
to kill your countrymen?” Donavan asked.

“They tried to
kill us when they fired on Miraculous. They may very well have
killed or injured some of Sarjan’s crew. Why should I worry about
their lives when they didn’t give a shit about ours?”

“They’ll tell
you some sacrifice is necessary in order to kill a dra’voren.” He
raised his hands when she frowned at him. “I’m just saying that’s
what they believe. If they knew the truth they’d be on our side
too. You can’t blame them for following orders.”

The weapon
systems officer warned, “Perseverance is turning towards us. She
could be arming missiles, Commander.”

Nikira looked
around at the bridge crew. “I’m not trying to kill them, just to
chase them away. So far, everyone who’s died since Bane came here
has done so either because of Predoran’s attack on the Great Gate
or they were killed by the real dra’voren. Bane hasn’t killed
anyone.”

“Predoran’s
blaming him, though, and saying that he’s here to destroy our
world,” Donavan said.

“Perseverance
is firing, Commander,” the weapon systems officer stated.

Nikira looked
up at the main screen, where four missiles shot towards
Retribution. They exploded against the faint haze that covered the
screen in a fiery conflagration, making the officers tense, and
some grip their consoles. Not so much as a shiver went through the
ship, and the men relaxed as the flames dispersed.

“Are our
missiles armed?” Nikira enquired.

“Yes,
Commander.”

“Same targets.
Fire.”

A muffled bang
came from below the bridge again as a second salvo fired, and the
missiles flew at the two frigates, both of which were turning away.
The missiles hit their targets in bursts of fire and smoke, and one
warship listed, losing altitude. The other picked up speed towards
Retribution, veering away to head for the Golden Gates. The
crippled ship limped after it, smoke pouring from its vents and the
holes in its hull.

“Show me
Miraculous,” Nikira ordered.

The image on
the main screen changed to a side-on view of the downed stealth
ship, also still venting smoke, although it was not as thick and
black as before.

Having found
the mess hall empty, Bane made his way to the bridge, his little
entourage trotting after him. Every so often, groups of crewmen ran
past on mysterious, but obviously urgent errands, all too concerned
with the ship’s peril to pay any attention to Bane. With its
skeleton crew, Miraculous was ill-equipped to deal with any type of
emergency, never mind one of this magnitude.

On the bridge,
Sarjan stood gazing at the screen, his crew bent over their
consoles in a state of feverish activity. The commander turned when
Bane entered, his expression wary, as usual.

“What
happened?” Bane asked.

“Retribution
was trying to capture you, and when they couldn’t find you, two
frigates attacked us. Nikira took command of Retribution and fired
on the frigates, and they’ve left.”

“How did they
find us?”

Sarjan pulled a
face. “They must have searched Cloud World until they found our
short-range locator beacon, which gave them our location.”

“And is the
beacon now switched off?”

“Yes.”

“Who would have
ordered this?” Bane enquired.

“I’d guess it
was Governor Predoran.”

“The same man
who ordered you to hunt me, and the attack on the realm gate?”

Sarjan nodded.
“Yes.”

Bane grunted,
frowning. “I have had enough of this Predoran fellow. It is time to
close the gates again and put an end to his foolish antics.”

“You’re going
to shut out the people in Sarlan City?” Sarjan sounded shocked.

Bane raised an
eyebrow. “They had fair warning when the gate closed before, twice,
and part of their city was destroyed by its weapons, yet the
majority have chosen to stay. If they want to remain out in the
Wastes, it is their choice, is it not?”

“Because
Governor Predoran urged them to stay, and assured them it wouldn’t
happen again. Obviously they don’t want to abandon their homes, but
I don’t think they realise that the gate will close forever. If
they knew that, I reckon most would go into Bayona.”

“The gate will
open once more, when my companions and I leave, so the inhabitants
of the outer city will have one more chance to return to the
domain. After that, the gate will close forever.”

Sarjan nodded,
although he still seemed perturbed. “Fair enough, I suppose, but
the city suffered damage from the Great Gate’s weapons. I’m not
sure how long they’ll be able to manage without help from
Bayona.”

“We will be
leaving within a few days. Their taste of isolation should help
them to make up their minds, do you not think?”

“I guess
so.”

Bane leant on a
console and folded his arms. “You disapprove?”

“Well, people
could die.”

Ethra, who had
been glowering at the commander the whole time, said, “Be glad Bane
does not destroy your stupid -”

“Ethra!” Bane
frowned at her. “Do not start that again.”

“But -”

“Enough.”

“He’s -”

“Shush.”

The girl
scowled at him, pouting, and he could not help smiling at her
indignant expression.

Bane faced
Sarjan again. “So, what do you suggest?”

“Could you give
them another warning? They shouldn’t have to pay for Predoran’s
stubbornness, should they? He dismissed Nikira as a madwoman, but
he wouldn’t be able to ignore you.”

“Every hour the
realm gate stands open, this world is in danger of being invaded by
more dark gods.”

“Just one
day?”

Bane sighed,
disliking the idea, although clearly Sarjan was equally unhappy
with a summary gate closure. His request had merit, and one more
day did not pose a grave risk. “Very well. One more day, one more
warning, and then the gates close.”

“Thank
you.”

Chapter
Ten

Dark
Domain

The Demon Lord
strode along the corridor that led to Governor Predoran’s office,
ignoring the people who stepped from his path with startled
expressions and turned to stare after him. He allowed them to see
him this time so they would be convinced of his existence, lest the
governor be suspected of hallucinations or insanity. Bane was fed
up with the stupid man, this troublesome domain and its foolish
people, which forced him to take up the shadows again when he would
rather have rested from them for longer before creating the wards.
The smartly-dressed woman who sat at a desk in the room outside the
governor’s office jumped up with a gasp as he approached, her eyes
wide.

Bane pointed at
her. “Sit.”

She sank back
onto her chair, gaping at him as he strode past. The double doors
flew open ahead of him with a crash, and he swept into the
governor’s office, the doors closing again behind him.

Predoran looked
up with an impatient frown, then his eyes widened. The Demon Lord
marched up to his desk, gripped the side of it and flipped it end
over end out of the adjacent floor to ceiling window with a
terrific crash. Glass rained down to smash on the floor and fly out
into the void, and everything on the desk clattered to the floor.
The governor cowered, raising his hands. Bane glared at him,
fighting the dark power’s urging to kill him. The man was without
honour, and, in Bane’s opinion, should not be in charge of
scrubbing a floor, much less running a city. Predoran’s soul glowed
sickly yellow-green, in keeping with his cowardly demeanour and
obvious debauchery. He looked only a little the worse for wear,
despite his city’s partial destruction, his brown suit stretched
over his paunch and his greasy brown hair slicked back. His walrus
moustache bristled as his mouth opened and closed in shock, and his
Adam’s apple bobbed.

Bane swung away
before the urge to kill Predoran overcame him and flung himself
onto one of the soft cream chairs that surrounded a low,
glass-topped table in the spacious seating area in front of the
spot where Predoran’s desk had been. Bane breathed deeply to calm
himself as he gazed out of the massive windows that gave a view of
the city’s cratered streets and ruined buildings. The blue fire
dome flickered and pulsed, the gaps in it warping as they expanded
and contracted.

“I trust I now
have your attention, Governor,” he said.

“Who… who the
hell are you, and how did you get in here?”

“I am the Demon
Lord. Perhaps you have heard of me. And I used the door, like
anyone else.”

“You’re the
dra’voren!”

Bane glanced at
him. “I am tired of insults. Dra’voren, destroyer, abomination,
dark god… I am actually trying to help you and your people, but you
are all too stupid to realise it.”

Predoran bent
and pushed a button on an instrument that had been on his desk, but
was now on the floor, held in the room by the wires that connected
it to the wall. “Security!”

“They cannot
hear you.”

The governor
jumped up and strode towards the doors, shouting, “Darris! Call
security!”

“Your assistant
cannot hear you either.”

Predoran tapped
the panel beside the doors, then banged it. “Darris!”

“Those will not
open.”

Predoran faced
Bane, his back pressed to the doors, his eyes darting about the
room in search of escape.

Bane
contemplated him with deep contempt. “Why not try a window?”

“What do you
want?”

“Sit.” Bane
took control of Predoran and made him walk over to the sofa on the
other side of the table and sink down on it. The governor stared at
him, his face rigid with horror.

Bane leant
forward and laced his fingers. “You and your people have caused me
a lot of trouble, while I have rid your domain of four dark gods. I
do not care what you think I am, but my patience is at an end. So,
I am going to close the realm gate. It will open one last time when
my companions and I leave, and then it will close forever. I do not
care if you and your people choose to live out here, but they must
be informed of what is to happen. Since last time you did not
believe my warning, issued through a proxy, this time I came
myself. I trust you appreciate the rare privilege of my
presence.”

The governor
shook his head. “You can’t force me to obey. I will protect my city
and my world!”

“Actually, I
can, although I would rather make you see the benefits of doing as
I instruct, but I begin to suspect that I am wasting my time. You
have no need to protect your world or your city from me. I have no
intention of harming either of them, unless you anger me
sufficiently, so the best way for you to protect them is to obey
me.”

“I will not be
dictated to by a dra’voren!”

“You will do as
I command, one way or another.”