‘What have you become that you cannot touch it?’ he asked himself.
The answer was all too obvious. Duvodas returned his stare to the city, and thought again of his plan. It seemed awesome now in its evil. Shira’s beautiful face swam before his eyes, and he saw her once more lifted on the Daroth spear, the life torn from her. His resolution hardened.
‘You who bring death and despair to the world deserve no mercy,’ he told the distant city. ‘You who live for destruction and pain deserve no life.’
By what right do you judge them?
The thought sprang unbidden, as if whispered on the wind.
‘By the right of power, and the needs of vengeance,’ he answered.
Does that not make you as evil as the Daroth?
‘Indeed it does.’
Looping his bags over his shoulder, he walked on. There were no sentries, and he passed the first buildings without incident.
Then a Daroth moved into sight, carrying two buckets on a yoke across his shoulders. His black eyes fastened on the human. Duvodas pointed a finger and the Daroth died, his body crumbling to the ground with steam erupting from his eyes, ears and mouth. Duvodas did not even see him fall. On he walked through the night-shrouded city, searching for signs of his intended destination. Three times more he slew unsuspecting Daroth who stumbled across him. He had expected more of them to be on the
streets, but the night was cold and the vast majority of the city-dwellers remained snug in their domed homes.
Duvodas saw twin towers in the distance, smoke drifting from them, and steadily he made his way towards them. Closer now, and he could feel the pulsing of life from the caverns deep in the ground. Ahead was a huge dome, where two sentries stood before the doors. Levelling their spears, they approached him.
He felt their feeble attempts to read his thoughts. This he allowed. ‘I have come to destroy you and all your people.’
‘Impossible, human. We are immortal!’
‘You are doomed!’ They rushed him then, but twin blasts of fire speared from his fingers, piercing their bodies and burning huge holes in the wall of the building behind them. Duvodas walked to the great doors and pushed them open. Within was a circular hall, and a vast empty table. Pulling shut the door he searched for a stairwell, finding it at the rear of the chamber. Behind him he could hear the city-dwellers running from their homes, a huge mob racing to stop him.
He did not increase his speed. Opening his thoughts, he reached out, feeling the panic in the minds of the Daroth. ‘I am vengeance,’ he told them. ‘I am death.’ The steps were shallow, and wound down deep below the city; there were no lanterns here, and the darkness was total. But Duvodas raised his hand, and his palm began to glow with a fierce white light. Down and down he moved, descending to a wide corridor and a second stairwell. The heat here was intense. Pausing, he knelt and touched the floor. The stone was warm, and he could feel hot air blowing against his skin. His glowing hand illuminated an air vent close to the wall.
Ahead was a wide entrance in the rock, blocked by a
huge steel portcullis. Duvodas reached out and touched it and it began to glow – faintly red at first, then brighter and brighter. The centre sagged and melted away, smoke and steam hissing up from the floor as rivulets of molten metal swirled around his feet. He was about to enter the cavern beyond when he heard the sounds of booted feet upon the stairs behind him. Spinning, he threw out his hand. The first two Daroth warriors ran into sight; both burst into flames.
The pulsing of new life was almost overpowering now as Duvodas strode into the massive chamber. More than 600 paces long, and at least 200 wide, it was filled with thousands of yellow and black pods – huge cocoons, many of them throbbing and writhing.
The Daroth were indeed immortal. Twice in every generation they were reborn through these pods. And that, as Sirano had known, was their greatest weakness. That is why they feared coexistence – for should an enemy ever reach where he had reached, their immortality would be lost. A human had but one life to lose, and that was hard enough. But to lose eternity . . . ? The fear was colossal.