thrust it aside. Her faltering steps brought
her to within two strides of him, and her eyes flicked down to his
hand, which hung at his side, hidden by his cloak.
“Hold out your
hand,” Kayos instructed.
Bane stretched
out his left hand, which was the one she looked at. He wondered if
the reason for her choice was that the left hand was usually the
weaker one. Sherinias hesitated, gathering her courage, he
suspected, before she took the last few steps and looked up at him,
her expression one of extreme trepidation. He met her gaze, then
looked away, hardly able to stomach it. Her hand touched his, and
her fingers closed around it. He glanced down to find her gazing
back at Kayos, silently begging for her ordeal to be over.
Kayos shook his
head. “Stay there, Sherinias. Bane, talk to her.”
“Sherinias.”
Bane tried to make his voice soft and reassuring.
The young
goddess looked up at him, her expression despairing. He took hold
of her hand, drew her closer and stroked her cheek. Blue fire
sparkled where his fingers brushed her skin, and she flinched,
closing her eyes. Bane frowned as a pang of intense pity shot
through him, mingled with deep self-loathing. In an attempt to ease
her fears somewhat, he sank down on one knee.
“Sherinias,
look at me.”
Her eyes opened
and roamed over his face. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Nothing; I am
your brother.”
“You are a dark
god. You lie.”
He inclined his
head. “Sometimes, but I am not lying now.”
“Prove it.”
“How?”
“Let me
go.”
“No,” Kayos
said.
Bane ignored
him. “I will let you go if you promise not to run away.”
She appeared
uncertain, then nodded, and he released her hand. “You do not have
to touch me to hurt me, do you?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then fleeing
would do me no good. When I asked to be released, I did not mean
merely my hand. I asked for my freedom. This is not something you
would grant, is it?”
“I have not
enslaved you,” Bane said. “You came to me because Kayos told you
to.”
“Father fears
you too.”
“No, he does
not. I have been with you since you were born. I was there at your
birth, and I have not harmed you, have I?”
“You had no
power.”
He nodded. “I
cast it out so you would not be afraid of me, and we would have
told you when you were older. I do not want you to fear me. You may
do whatever you wish to assure yourself that I will not harm
you.”
“Kill you?”
He smiled. “You
are courageous. This is hard for you, and you do not have the power
to kill me, but if you did, would you be less afraid of me?”
“Yes.”
Bane gestured,
and a silver dagger appeared in his hand. Sherinias gasped, gazing
at it with wonder and hope. He held it out, hilt towards her. “Now
we are equals, for you have the means to kill me.”
She took the
weapon and clutched it to her chest. Her expression changed to
anxious curiosity. “You could kill me first.”
“Maybe; maybe
not. I would wager that you are faster than me, for I am only a
mortal.”
“You are a dark
god. They move faster than us, even if they are mortal.”
“Who told you
that?” he enquired.
“The
Oracle.”
“Does the
Oracle know what ‘tar’merin’ means?”
“No.”
Bane glanced at
Kayos, who watched them with a frown. “Do you remember what Father
said it was?”
“No.” Her eyes
filled with puzzlement. “How can you be my brother?”
“I was born in
Kayos’ domain, so I am his spirit son.”
“You would not
let me kill you, would you?”
He gazed up at
her. “What would it take, to make you trust me?”
“Let me kill
you.”
“Then I would
be dead.”
“And I would
trust you.”
Bane smiled.
“The logic of a child, or at least, a child goddess. Mortal
children do not usually want to kill their brothers; not at your
age, anyway.”
“The darkness
is my enemy.”
“Yes, that is
hard for me to counter. Very well, you may kill me.”
Kayos muttered,
“Bane...”
“Would
her to within two strides of him, and her eyes flicked down to his
hand, which hung at his side, hidden by his cloak.
“Hold out your
hand,” Kayos instructed.
Bane stretched
out his left hand, which was the one she looked at. He wondered if
the reason for her choice was that the left hand was usually the
weaker one. Sherinias hesitated, gathering her courage, he
suspected, before she took the last few steps and looked up at him,
her expression one of extreme trepidation. He met her gaze, then
looked away, hardly able to stomach it. Her hand touched his, and
her fingers closed around it. He glanced down to find her gazing
back at Kayos, silently begging for her ordeal to be over.
Kayos shook his
head. “Stay there, Sherinias. Bane, talk to her.”
“Sherinias.”
Bane tried to make his voice soft and reassuring.
The young
goddess looked up at him, her expression despairing. He took hold
of her hand, drew her closer and stroked her cheek. Blue fire
sparkled where his fingers brushed her skin, and she flinched,
closing her eyes. Bane frowned as a pang of intense pity shot
through him, mingled with deep self-loathing. In an attempt to ease
her fears somewhat, he sank down on one knee.
“Sherinias,
look at me.”
Her eyes opened
and roamed over his face. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Nothing; I am
your brother.”
“You are a dark
god. You lie.”
He inclined his
head. “Sometimes, but I am not lying now.”
“Prove it.”
“How?”
“Let me
go.”
“No,” Kayos
said.
Bane ignored
him. “I will let you go if you promise not to run away.”
She appeared
uncertain, then nodded, and he released her hand. “You do not have
to touch me to hurt me, do you?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then fleeing
would do me no good. When I asked to be released, I did not mean
merely my hand. I asked for my freedom. This is not something you
would grant, is it?”
“I have not
enslaved you,” Bane said. “You came to me because Kayos told you
to.”
“Father fears
you too.”
“No, he does
not. I have been with you since you were born. I was there at your
birth, and I have not harmed you, have I?”
“You had no
power.”
He nodded. “I
cast it out so you would not be afraid of me, and we would have
told you when you were older. I do not want you to fear me. You may
do whatever you wish to assure yourself that I will not harm
you.”
“Kill you?”
He smiled. “You
are courageous. This is hard for you, and you do not have the power
to kill me, but if you did, would you be less afraid of me?”
“Yes.”
Bane gestured,
and a silver dagger appeared in his hand. Sherinias gasped, gazing
at it with wonder and hope. He held it out, hilt towards her. “Now
we are equals, for you have the means to kill me.”
She took the
weapon and clutched it to her chest. Her expression changed to
anxious curiosity. “You could kill me first.”
“Maybe; maybe
not. I would wager that you are faster than me, for I am only a
mortal.”
“You are a dark
god. They move faster than us, even if they are mortal.”
“Who told you
that?” he enquired.
“The
Oracle.”
“Does the
Oracle know what ‘tar’merin’ means?”
“No.”
Bane glanced at
Kayos, who watched them with a frown. “Do you remember what Father
said it was?”
“No.” Her eyes
filled with puzzlement. “How can you be my brother?”
“I was born in
Kayos’ domain, so I am his spirit son.”
“You would not
let me kill you, would you?”
He gazed up at
her. “What would it take, to make you trust me?”
“Let me kill
you.”
“Then I would
be dead.”
“And I would
trust you.”
Bane smiled.
“The logic of a child, or at least, a child goddess. Mortal
children do not usually want to kill their brothers; not at your
age, anyway.”
“The darkness
is my enemy.”
“Yes, that is
hard for me to counter. Very well, you may kill me.”
Kayos muttered,
“Bane...”
“Would