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
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
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