Stormlight - Ed Greenwood [113]
The shapeshifter had locked eyes with a different foe, and his eyes were blazing again. So were hers.
Silver fire smoldered in Storm Silverhand's eyes as she faced him, and she coolly mind-spoke, Time to feel the lash you've been using so cruelly on others. It was followed by a knife-edged probe that slashed and tore at his mind even more viciously than the awakened dragon had.
Wild, insane laughter burst from the shapeshifter's mouth-but instead of hurling spells and babbling raggedly, the shapeshifter drew himself up to tower above them all. The flames curling out of his burning eyes deepened to a rich red hue.
"I AM THE LORD OF LORDS AND THE PRINCE OF DARK PRINCES. MY BLACK HAND SMITES FROM ONE END OF FAERUN TO THE OTHER, AND BEYOND. BEHOLD ME, MORTALS, AND FEAR ME! FOR FEAR AND TYRANNY ARE MINE TO BESTOW, AND THE RUIN THEY DO IS MY EXULTATION. I AM BANE THE UNDYING, AND NONE SHALL ESCAPE ME!"
As he shouted, red fire burst from the dark-skinned, many-tentacled figure that stood on the bed. The blaze seared draperies and clothing to hurl Shayna against the bedchamber wall. She struck it heavily, slid down it, and did not move again.
Storm and Broglan were thrown to their knees, and as they struggled to rise, thunderous laughter rolled around them, and that terrible mind-voice spoke again. STAY DOWN IN HOMAGE, WHERE YOU BELONG… FOR THE LAST FEW MISERABLE MOMENTS OF YOUR LIVES.
Twenty
TO BATTLE A MAD GOD
Bolts of black flame leapt from the outstretched palms of Bane and lanced about the bedchamber. Where they struck walls and furniture, they licked greedily but burned nothing, only coursed along surfaces. Where they struck mortals, they streamed into flickering fields around the bodies. Enshrouded in flames that did not burn, Storm and Broglan found themselves unable to move-except to tremble in time to the thrumming flow of unleashed power.
The revealed god stepped leisurely down from the bed, his face now almost unearthly in its beauty, his body jet-black, and his eyes two red flames. With lilting grace, he crossed the room to where Storm knelt, frozen with one open hand outstretched as if beseeching.
"I have waited so long for this moment," Bane said gently, reaching out to caress her hair. "Ever since I learned of your true power. Through you, my little Stormling, and the other minions of Mystra I'll reach through you, I shall ascend once more!"
"Perhaps," Storm whispered as her eyes met his fearlessly. Silver fire shot out from them to strike the red blaze of Bane's gaze. All over the room, black flames fell away into curling, vanishing smoke as the air filled with surging silvery light.
Broglan cried out in awe and wonder. Bane cried out in pain and sudden despair. With a smile of relief, Storm reached up and touched the obsidian chest above her. At long last she was bringing down the full force of Mystra's divine fire on the foe, collapsing her barrier into his body.
Bane screamed, convulsed, and tried to turn away, to flee. As he struggled, writhing in the grip of silver flames that boiled up around him in racing, spiraling coils, he was lifted off the ground. Silver flames plunged through him to burst forth in ragged gouts from his every orifice.
The mad godling hung in the air above them, shuddering in the flames, his limbs flowing into scales and tentacles and feathers and soft suckers, but always being forced back into jet-black, human form. His screaming became raw and continuous as the black hue of the godly pretender fell away, and the naked body of a man began to take shape.
"You are no true god," Storm said, knowing she spoke truth, "but the twisted remnant of some unfortunate Bane took as an avatar-and abandoned later, leaving behind in a mortal body some dark shadow of himself as he went on to possess another. Shapeshifter… sorcerer… all powers stolen from victims, under the goad of Bane's madness. Who were you, at first? Who will you be, again?"
The flesh of the floating body flowed