Demon Lord III - Grey God (3 page)

A little of
her joy ebbed away, but she nodded. "Of course, she dislikes the
darkness." She dragged him towards one of the bonfires. "Come dance
with me, husband."

Bane dug in
his heels, eyeing the cavorting dancers. "Like that? I think
not."

"Do not be
such a stuffed shirt. It is fun."

"I will fall
over my feet. I have never danced."

"Then it is
time you learnt."

A powerful
sensation of leaping and twirling, mingled with a sense of
exhilaration and joy, assailed Bane. He yanked his hand from her
grasp.

Mirra looked
concerned as he clasped his brow. "What is wrong?"

The sensations
vanished, and he rubbed his forehead. "I am receiving a new
power."

"What is
it?"

"When I touch
you, I can read your mind."

She stared at
him in stunned disbelief, then her brow wrinkled. "Of all the
powers you could get, that is the one I really do not need you to
have."

"I know. I
have to learn how to block it."

"And how long
is it going to take you to do that?"

"I do not
know."

She scanned
his despondent face, her frown fading. "I am sorry, I should not
complain. It is not your fault. You can practice making blocks on
me, if you wish."

"Just do not
think about dancing while I do it. It made me quite queasy."

"All right."
She took his hand, and they sat on the grass, Mirra watching him as
he waited for the next vision. It came swiftly, a clear picture of
his face, and he frowned.

"I do not look
like that."

Mirra's eyes
widened. "Goddess! That is amazing.

"It is
unpleasant."

Bane rubbed
his temples, trying to find a way to block the vision. For several
minutes it remained unaffected, and his head began to pound.
Mirra's healing ended the discomfort. As Bane concentrated on
banishing the vision, he became aware of her thoughts just below
it, filled with concern for him, mixed with something that at first
confused him. After a moment, he realised what it was, and almost
jerked his hand away again, hating the invasion of her innermost
thoughts and emotions. His dislike of it caused his willpower to
rise up against it like a wall of darkness, and a sharp pain lanced
his brain. The vision vanished, along with her thoughts. Mirra
winced and bit her lip, but he relaxed with a sigh.

"I think I did
it."

"That was
quick."

Bane nodded,
then grimaced as the block collapsed, allowing her thoughts to rush
in again. With a groan, he pulled his hand free. "It has returned.
I do not think I should experiment on you."

"Why not?"

"I can see too
deep, beyond your surface thoughts."

"I have no
secrets from you." She took his hand again.

Bane opened
his mouth to protest, then her thoughts rushed in, filled with
concern and love, a thread of uncertain longing beneath it. Closing
his eyes, he tried to block it out, and it dimmed, becoming less
distinct, but no matter how hard he struggled, he could not banish
it. His head pounded again, and Mirra soothed it, but after several
minutes he tugged his hand free.

"I cannot.
Perhaps it is too soon."

"Maybe your
ability to block it will come by itself, later."

"I hope so.
Before I went for a walk with Lyriasharin I only got fuzzy
sensations and emotions, now I am seeing clear visions and even
memories."

Mirra studied
him. "That is fast. Let us hope your ability to block it goes
apace."

"Indeed. I
dislike this power."

"It could be
useful once you have mastered it."

"Until then,
it is a problem."

She nodded.
"How did you do it just now?"

"My will
blocked it, but I do not think that is how it is supposed to be
done."

Tallis ran up,
panting, and stopped before them. "Come and dance, you are missing
all the fun."

Mirra shook
her head, but Bane waved a hand. "Go."

Sensing that
he wished to be alone, she rose and allowed Tallis to tug her
towards the fires. Her friend noticed her glum expression, and her
grin faded.

"What is
it?"

Mirra sighed,
ignoring the dancers who cavorted around them to the tune of the
fiddle and drums. When she had explained the problem, Tallis shook
her head in wonder and dismay.

"That is
terrible. It could not have happened at a worse time."

"No. But it
developed in only a few hours, so perhaps he can learn to block it
just as quickly. We have time."

"And if he
cannot, you have the rest of your lives."

Mirra gazed at
Bane, who had bowed his head, and appeared to be deep in thought.
"This is my wedding night."

Tallis
followed her eyes. "I am sure he will do it, after all, he is a
-"

"Tal! Do not
keep reminding me, please."

"Sorry."
Tallis looked remorseful for a moment, then grabbed Mirra's hands
and dragged her into the thick of the dancers, tugging and bouncing
until she joined in. The exhilaration of the dance soon swept away
her worries, and she laughed as she leapt and twirled, spinning
around the fire. Her feet hardly seemed to touch the grass, and
sparks danced around her like tiny stars.

When at last
she stopped, her legs ached and her breath came in gasps. She
glanced over at Bane, who was deep in conversation with Mithran,
and not watching her as she had hoped. Tallis followed her gaze,
then took her hand and led her towards the feast table.

"Let us have
some strawberries and cream."

Bane shook his
head. "No, it is not right."

"Come on, Son,
I want you to," Mithran urged. "It's better than doing it to Mirra,
and I have nothing to hide. If you find some memories of your
mother, you deserve to share them. You've got to get this thing
under control."

Grem padded up
and flopped down beside Mithran, mopping his brow with his sleeve
before taking a gulp of wine from the cup in his other hand.
"What's going on?"

Mithran
explained, and Grem's brows shot up. "Wow. You can try it on me if
you like."

Bane frowned.
"Why is everyone so keen for me to read their minds?"

Grem shrugged.
"Just wanted to help."

Mithran shot
Bane a reproachful look. "Would you rather we refused to let you
touch us?"

"I would
understand, but I would not prefer it, and you do not have to
volunteer."

"Well, it
seems we want to."

"Damn right,"
Grem said, revealing the fact that he had imbibed a little too much
wine.

Mithran put
his arm around Bane's shoulders and leant closer. "Well, what do
you see?"

Bane closed
his eyes as a vision of a young girl rushed into his mind, her
bright blue eyes alight with glee, her raven hair flying around her
head as she ran into his arms and embraced him passionately. He
leapt to his feet with a startled oath, freeing himself of
Mithran's touch and the vision.

Mithran gazed
up at him, looking abashed. "I guess that wasn't the most
appropriate thing to show you."

"No, it was
not."

"Sorry."

Grem put down
his cup and stood, swaying. "I reckon what you need is summing you
wanna block out, but that you can't so easy."

Mithran
smiled. "Tie him up?"

"Nar, I reckon
we just sit on him a bit."

"You are both
drunk," Bane said.

Grem raised
his brows. "Mebbe."

"Trouble with
him," Mithran pointed out, "is he's stronger than the two of us put
together."

"Aye, there is
that," Grem agreed, "but if he knows what's good for 'im, he won't
put up too much of a struggle."

"That's a
bloody good idea." Mithran jumped up, and Bane backed away, eyeing
them.

"No, it is
not."

Grem glanced
at Mithran. "Don't he have... whadayacallit... modes? Like combat
mode, normal mode, that sort of thing?"

Mithran
shrugged. "Search me."

"No, I do
not," Bane said.

"Good." Grem
nodded. "Get his legs."

Bane swung to
face his father as Mithran circled him, grinning. "This is a bad
idea."

Grem chuckled.
"I think it's bloody brilliant."

"You're a
genius, Grem," Mithran averred.

Grem feinted,
drawing Bane's attention, and Mithran tackled him around the legs,
yanking them from under him. Bane sprawled on his back with a
grunt, and Grem flung himself onto Bane's chest, straddled him and
pinned his wrists. Bane fought the urge to laugh at their rough
horseplay, then the vision filled his mind, and he grimaced.

Gasps from
several healers made Mirra glance around, and she froze in
astonishment, a spoonful of strawberries and cream poised before
her mouth, which fell open. Bane lay prone on the grass, Grem
seated on his chest and Mithran on his legs, both looking smug and
a little triumphant. The strawberry on her spoon slid off and
landed in the bowl with a soft plop, breaking her fascination. She
put down the bowl and started towards them, but someone grabbed her
arm, and she turned to find Tallis holding her back.

"Leave them,
Mir."

"What in the
world are they doing to him?"

"Whatever it
is, I am sure it will not harm him."

"It is not him
I am worried about. They are both drunk."

Tallis tilted
her head. "You think he will hurt them?"

"No." Mirra
gazed at the trio. "But it still does not strike me as a terribly
good idea. Even those two have never dared to try anything like
that before, except when Mithran... when he and Bane first met. But
I would like to know what they are up to."

A battle scene
filled Bane's head, making him writhe and flinch as a soldier
beside him died in a spray of blood and a gurgling scream, torn
apart by a creature of darkness. The heavy sword made his arms
ache, and blood ran down it in a thin stream. He raised it as a
malformed grim rushed at him, toothy jaws agape, and thrust it into
its neck, severing the jugular with a swift lunge, then yanked it
free to lop off the head of a vampire as it swooped at him. He had
no control over the scene or his actions; they were ghosts from
Grem's past, memories of the historic battle he had survived.

The massive
conflict surged and ebbed as the dark creatures were cut down and
more rushed in to take their places. Smoke, screams and the stench
of death filled the air, blood dripped from his hands and chain
mail and ran down his face in sticky rivers. He tried to banish the
vision, making it dim and grow hazy, but it remained. Howls came
from his right, and he glanced that way, as did his foes. A
black-clad man strode from the temple, his ankle length, crimson
lined cloak flaring. Dread and loathing filled Bane's heart at the
sight of him, mixed with desperate hope. The distant stranger
gestured, and shadows poured from his hands, consuming the fleeing
dark creatures in bursts of lurid fire and dull concussions as some
of the beasts exploded in sprays of foul gore.

Bane groaned,
wanting to free his wrists from the hands that gripped them, but he
resisted the urge.

The creatures
of darkness surged away from the battlements, and a bolt of shadow
ploughed into some nearby, killing them with shrieks and splatters
of blood and guts. Bane reeled back, raising an arm, the heavy
sword sagging in his tired fist. Relief filled him as the dark army
turned tail and fled, trampling each other in their desperate bid
to escape the horror that had been unleashed upon them. His breath
rasped in a dry throat, and dozens of wounds ached on his arms and
chest. He glanced at the black-clad man, who strode towards the
distant forest, sending streaks of dark fire after the fleeing army
with casual flicks of his hands.

Bane gritted
his teeth, longing for the hated vision to end, and thrust against
the hands that pinned him more powerfully. As he did so, he sensed
a tingling deep in the base of his brain, where something tore
open, and knowledge flooded out. A wall of darkness formed,
clanking into place like steel shields, swallowing the vision. It
rose swiftly, eating away at the images, thoughts and emotions he
received from Grem, mixed with flashes of memory from his father.
When the last vestige of alien thought had gone, he opened his eyes
and looked up into Grem's grinning visage. The warrior's eyes
gleamed.

"Well, did it
work?"

"Yes."

Grem gave a
hoot and slid off Bane's chest; Mithran grinned and released his
legs. "I knew it would!" Grem crowed.

Bane sat up,
rubbing his temples, and Mithran studied him, his smile fading.
"Are you all right, Son?"

"Yes. How long
did that take?"

"About half an
hour."

"It seemed
shorter." He turned to Grem. "I did not realise you saw that."

"We all did.
'Twas bloody amazing."

Mirra came
over and sank to her knees beside Bane, shooting the two miscreants
an accusing look. "What did you do to him?"

"We fixed
'im!" Grem cried, gulping the rest of his wine and refilling the
cup from a jug. "No more worries for you, Healer."

Mithran nodded
and winked. "He won't be reading your mind tonight, lass."

Mirra flushed,
then looked at Bane. "You learnt how to block it?"

"Yes."

"Good."

He shot his
father an amused look. "But that does not mean I cannot read minds
anymore, only that I can do it at will now."

Mirra gasped.
"You would not dare!"

Bane smiled.
"You would never know."

"I would!"

"How?"

"I do not
know, but I would. Do not!"

Bane chuckled,
and she pounced on him, pushed him back onto the grass and aimed
playful cuffs at him, which he blocked easily. She grabbed his
wrists and pinned his arms to the grass beside his head, grinning
down at him. There was something oddly exhilarating about being
able to wrestle with him, and she understood why Grem and Mithran
had enjoyed it so much. Bane sighed, rolling his eyes.