Free Demon Lord V - God Realm by T C Southwell

wiped her eyes. "When he recovers, you'll regret it."
    "We'll
see."
    It seemed like
an age that they stumbled through the grey mist, their skin burning
and reddening as it settled on it. Just when Artan thought they
would have to abandon Bane to save themselves, it lightened, then
dissipated, and they stumbled into a dull orange landscape. Artan
drew in a gasp of clean air, and the group halted, lowering Bane to
the ground.
     
    Sarrin poured
water onto a cloth and they wiped their burning skin, then she
knelt beside Bane. He appeared to have suffered no ill effects from
the corrosive mist, which made Ethra snort with anger.
Nevertheless, he was pale and gaunt, his eyes sunken and his skin
dewed with sweat. The shackles' light had dimmed to a pale glimmer,
but when Sarrin looked more closely at them, she gasped in dismay.
The skin of Bane's wrists was blackened, and when she pulled up his
sleeves she found red streaks running up his arms. She called Artan
over, and he studied the marks with a frown, then glanced at her
and sighed.
    "It seems we
could have saved ourselves the trouble of carrying him out here
after all."
    "We have to
get the shackles off."
    "How? We've
tried."
    "There must be
a way."
    Artan shook
his head. "Perhaps not. Armorgan would not have wished to free his
foe if he had managed to trap him with these."
    Sarrin bowed
her head, surprised to find her eyes burning again, and not from
the mist. "I am convinced that he is tar'merin, Artan."
    "Well I'm not.
He saved us, yes, but he saved himself too."
    She frowned at
him. "If you had not put the shackles on him, he would have been in
no danger from that place."
    "And he
wouldn't have helped us then, I'll wager."
    "You do not
know that."
    Artan threw up
his hands. "What do you want me to do? I'm prepared to help him as
much as I can, but I can't get those damn things off."
    "We must find
a way, before he dies."
    "We'll be
lucky if we manage to stay alive in this place."
    Sarrin gazed
at Bane. "I believe a light god could help him."
    "I'm sure they
could, if they were so inclined. We could use their help too, you
know, but I don't see any crawling out of the woodwork around
here."
    "Bane called
this the God Realm, which would seem to imply that gods live
here."
    Artan snorted.
"Yes, nasty ones."
    "Then we must
find a good one."
    "How?"
    "Pray."
    He glared at
her. "Armorgan's dead."
    "No, to Kayos,
Bane's former companion."
    "Fine, you do
that. But I'm not going to count on one of the seven Grey Gods
coming to his aid, or ours. I find that rather hard to
believe."
    Ethra walked
up behind them. "Let's just kill him."
    "You stay out
of it!" Artan bellowed, then jumped up and stalked away to join his
men.
     
    Kayos paused,
glancing back. He had passed through the white clouds and into
another barren rocky area, common in the God Realm. His pursuer had
gained on him, and now he could discern it in the distance. Its
dark, lupine form was unmistakeable, and yellow eyes glowed in its
massive, sharp muzzled head. A Demon Hound. Somewhere behind it,
its master followed, a dark god hunting him as if he was a deer. He
could escape by taking shelter in a domain, or within his shields,
or he could try to outrun it. His salvation lay somewhere ahead, in
the form of a tar'merin with the power to protect him, if he could
find him in time. He glanced at the trio of humans who sagged on
their steeds, looking exhausted. There was no time for rest stops,
however, if they were going to find Bane in time, and they knew it
as well as him. He swung away and took to the air again.
     
    Bane stumbled
after the ragged group, his feet dragging. According to Sarrin, he
had been comatose for a long time after they had carried him out of
the trap, and he had been surprised that they had not abandoned him
as soon as they no longer needed the shackles' light. The sickness
ate at him and the blackness spread up his arms, patches appearing
on his legs as well. The pain was constant and enervating,