10.8

Zyrdicia waited near the magical gate apprehensively. It seemed as though Portia would never return. A glow in the center of enchanted circle announced her assistant's arrival with the guest. Zyrdicia took a deep breath. Let the games begin, she thought to herself.

Portia emerged from the gate with Prince Blackpool just as the sun was setting over the aerial dimension where Zyrdicia's residence was located. He looked dashing. He had foregone his customary armor in favor of an elegant, black, silk shirt. Silver cufflinks in the shape of his family's crest adorned each sleeve. He wore his sword and dagger, however, despite his otherwise civil appearance.

"Hi," he greeted warmly. He took her bare hand and kissed it gracefully, as their eyes met. "You look exquisite."

She had chosen a very tailored black dress with long, narrow lines. It was strikingly feminine in its simplicity. Its design left her arms and shoulders bare. Her silken hair hung loosely in effortless perfection.

"Thank you, and welcome." She smiled when he kissed her hand. The gesture seemed so out of place outside of Aparans.

She watched his eyes move around the landscape in wonder. He found himself upon a magic cloud. Strange trees and dark flowers grew from the cottony substance. A short distance away, the black shape of her palatial residence shimmered as the sunset reflected upon its mirror-like surface.

"An enchanted castle for an enchanting woman," Dirk mused.

The air suddenly filled with the sound of powerful wings. A herd of black, winged horses descended, landing upon a flower-filled field of cloud a short distance from where Dirk and Zyrdicia stood.

"Amazing," the prince stared. He thought winged horses were creatures of legend. It had never occurred to him that they might be black instead of white.

"Not really. I just keep them for the dragon. He likes the way they taste."

"That creature lives here too?"

"His den is on the other side of the grounds. He will be out shortly now that the horses are here."

Dirk's eyes moved to the sunset. Everything about this place was serenely beautiful, almost dreamlike.

Zyrdicia had set the sun and moonrise to correspond roughly to time in Aparans. It was the only clock she had on the cloud. Normally she preferred to shroud this world in perpetual darkness. The sky above them was a rather complex illusion. The cloud's creator perceived it as part of the landscape. The sun, the moon and the stars were Zyrdicia's to rearrange at will. She bought them, along with the house.

Her eyes held those of her guest for a moment. The chemistry had not diminished at all in the intervening weeks.

"Let me show you inside," she offered, taking his hand. No gloves or gauntlets separated them this time. They passed through a gem-encrusted spiked gate of undulating silver on the path leading to the residence's main entrance. The portal to the house was itself entirely of silver. It was tall enough to accommodate a giant. It opened of its own accord as Zyrdicia approached.

Inside the entryway, the prince saw the interior of the home was made up of the same glass-like, black material as the exterior. The walls were smooth and curving. There were no candles or lanterns in the place. Glass orbs emitting a magical light, faintly purple in hue, provided illumination which danced upon the flowing, iridescent surface of the walls. The entryway led into a great, fountain-filled hall. Silver fountains gurgled softly, breaking the silence. To a mortal, it might have been a goddess' dwelling.

Zyrdicia led him through the hall along a wide, vaulted passageway to her observatory. As they entered, she touched a button on the wall and the roof slid open with a humming noise. A wall of windows slid away at the same time, opening the round room up to a large balcony overlooking the terraced cloud landscape. A warm evening breeze stirred the air.

The room was Zyrdicia's favorite place in the residence. The serenity of the world seemed to coalesce into this space. A curved couch faced the balcony with an uninterrupted view of the azure abyss beyond the cloud. A formal table had been set out on the balcony.

They chatted about nothing in particular for a few minutes while sipping an aperitif. She was careful not to approach the subject of his military stalemate or his error in prematurely invading Baaldorf before the plague had dissipated. She was well aware that such a discussion would only annoy him. She wanted him to be at ease when she approached the issue of the arcanium later, though she was certain he would find her proposal irresistible.

"Dirk, what is the origin of the kissing of hands in your world?" she asked.

He looked positively baffled. "What a question. I couldn't possibly guess how the custom originated among the aristocracy."

"Where I come from, it's considered rude to greet a woman at arm's length."

"How are women greeted there?"

"Always with a kiss on the cheek."

"Surely only among intimates."

"No. Even virtual strangers."

"Such a gesture would be unforgivably disrespectful and boorish in Karteia." Another silence hung in the air between them. "Tell me about this business proposal you have in mind."

Zyrdicia shook her head and smiled mischievously. "Never before dinner. Business always waits until after dinner."

"I hope in entails your return to Aparans."

"We'll see."

The meal was flawless. Her favorite Lyrian chef had taken the occasion as a cause to display his artistry with great panache. Each plate was a visual masterpiece. The visual artistry found an ideal echo in its complex perfection on the palate. The prince's delight was obvious.

As they finished, an enormous moon rose above the far edge of the cloud. The first stars cast a pale glimmer. Zyrdicia carried their wine to the balcony railing so that they could watch the moonrise. Dirk stood slightly behind her. His hand grazed her back.

"I'm sorry I left as I did. Were you very angry?" she asked almost inaudibly, as she looked off in the distance.

"For a while."

"Still?"

"I wouldn't be here if I were." Neither sensed that the conversational template of anger and forgiveness would be often repeated in the coming months. His hand moved up her back to the skin of her shoulder. She turned so that she could see his face. Their gazes locked. A kiss seemed to hang in the air as though inevitable. Instead, however, he broke the tension by asking, "Tell me, was your note about a business proposal just a ruse to get me here?"

"Not at all," she smiled. "Shall we talk about it now?"

"You have my undivided attention."

"You are already in possession of one of the most valuable things in the cosmos."

He brushed a stray lock of her hair away from her face, and caressed her cheek. "I'm pleased we are in agreement," he said smugly, clearly interpreting her words differently than she had intended.

She ignored his egotistical misunderstanding. "The metal you call surt is the most important substance in the world. The rest of the world calls it arcanium."

"You are mistaken. It is almost worthless."

"In Aparans. Not in Lyr."

"And why is it so highly valued in Lyr?"

"Because it is the only metal that can hold an enchantment indefinitely. Almost every magic item in the cosmos is made out of it."

"I find that very difficult to believe."

Zyrdicia slipped open the clasp to the thin, silver-looking chain around her waist. "Look closely at the metal. The bluish tinge. When I enchanted it, I did not recolor the metal. It's the natural hue of arcanium. Prior to enchantment the metal has to be soft and malleable in order to absorb the energy."

He felt the links carefully. It did look identical to the metal used in the slugs. It had the same lightness as well.

"Try and cut through it with your sword," she prodded, setting the chain on the recently emptied table.

"It's lovely. I wouldn't want to damage it."

"You cannot damage it with regular steel. That's the point. Try!'

He drew his sword and brought it down with tremendous force upon the fragile-looking links. They showed not the slightest sign of impact. "And what is your interest in my land's mineral wealth?"

"Whatever revenue the mines bring you, I can increase tenfold if you lease them to me."

"Why couldn't I just sell the metal myself in your city?" he mused.

"Because the instant word gets out that you have arcanium, every greedy Wizard and treasure hunter in the cosmos is going to descend on you and try to steal it. You will no longer be the invader, but the invaded. At least with me, you already know what you are dealing with," she explained. "Furthermore, the arcanium market is more complex than any in the world. Buyers are secretive and distrustful. My distribution channels are specifically geared to such secrecy. It will never be traced back to you."

"Tenfold?"

"At a bare minimum. I am comfortable guaranteeing that amount. In actuality, it could be much more. As part of the lease, I'll split fifty percent of the net profit from all sales with you. You will be guaranteed a tenfold revenue increase in any case."

"You do not even know what its current revenue is."

"Dirk, it truly doesn't matter. Whether it's ten thousand kolnas or ten million. I don't care. The level of money we are talking about with an arcanium monopoly is potentially in the billions-of plats, not kolnas. When you translate that amount into your world's currency, it might as well be infinite. Karteia will suddenly be not just the wealthiest nation in Aparans, but one of the wealthiest on any plane, anywhere."

"You have obviously given this a great deal of thought."

"I have. And I should warn you that if anyone but you owned the arcanium, I would have already sent in a Dirt Devil to extract it all by magic and spirit it away to one of my hiding places. If you won't lease the mines to me, you will leave me with no alternative but to take it by force."

The prince gave her a hard look, "Such an attempt would shorten your thousand-year lifespan considerably."

Zyrdicia's arms slid around his neck again as she looked at him flirtatiously. "If you agree to this, I'll have an excuse to spend time in Aparans from time to time."

"Do you need one?" he asked, his hands encircling her thin waist.

"Maybe. Do we have a deal?"

"Not yet."

"Why not?" she asked, surprised.

"Before I can accept any monetary figure as a guarantee, I need to review the mines' current value to me."

"When can you give me an answer?" she asked, clearly disappointed.

"Come see me in three days at Castle Blackpool. I will give you a definitive answer -or perhaps a counterproposal- then."

She could sense his mind working. He was up to something. If she had to, she would extract the arcanium by whatever means necessary, destroying his lands in the process. The substance mattered to her not for the wealth it would bring, but for the manipulative power. She would have absolute control over who had access to it, who would be permitted to create magic items and for what purposes. It would be tantamount to owning magic itself in her world.

"What is the enchantment associated with your belt?" Dirk wondered, changing the subject.

Zyrdicia whispered conspiratorially, "I trapped a fire giant's soul inside it. It endows me with his strength."

"Without it..?" his eyes narrowed.

"My strength is perfectly human," she confessed.

"You reveal too much." He made no effort to hide his amusement. The unexpected discovery pleased him. In such a state he could physically dominate her. She had weaknesses other than the demon who tormented her. "You might lead me to suspect that without your magical devices, you are not nearly as threatening as you pretend to be."

"That would have been true in an earlier era when my magical skills were less developed. At this point in my life, having the best toys is mostly a function of making the games I play more fun. Isn't that why you have the monocle?"

"The monocle is not a toy."

"Of course it is. So is my sword. So is this house for that matter. Magical devices are simply toys to play with."

"Does that contention hold for magical creatures as well?"

"If you know how to play with them, perhaps."

"Is there ever a time when you aren't playing some sort of game?" he asked as he looked into her eyes.

Her arms still lingered loosely around his neck. "If the game is consensual, does it matter?"

"It matters enormously if you deceive me about the rules."

Her smile faded. "Dirk, there was never supposed to be any involvement in the game. At first, I was mostly being a pest because I knew my behavior would offend you, and I found that terribly humorous. I never thought it would lead anywhere, so there was no need to tell you about the Edict. It was purely theatrical. But then something changed, and by the time I realized it, I..."

"You what?"

"I was afraid that whatever was happening between us would stop. That you would have lost interest if I had told you about the Edict. It wasn't deliberate deception. It was merely an ardent wish that reality were otherwise."

Her openness surprised him. He found the frank, candid manner in which she revealed her motives quite captivating. "I admit that learning of it was disappointing," he confided seductively. "But I'm not so shallow as to see you as a mere object for my physical gratification. You mean much more to me than that." You are, most importantly, a source of mass destruction to conquer Camarand, he thought.

He pulled her gently against him. There was no armor or thick leather dividing them as their bodies melted together in an embrace. The physical chemistry between them that had been lurking in the background all evening suddenly demanded attention. For the second time, a kiss seemed to loom. As they embraced, their cheeks brushed lightly. They lingered motionless for a few moments.

He glanced up at the night sky, calculating his next move. All of the stars in the sky converged in a single constellation in the shape of her wave-bladed dagger symbol. He smiled to himself. His plan was working splendidly. He ended the tension by remarking, "It's late. I should return to Castle Blackpool."

"Of course. I'll return you there whenever you desire." She started to pull away from his arms but he held her fast. Given his professed intention to depart, she was perplexed. She did that which came most naturally to her, pressing her cheek against his neck and cuddling her body against him. His arms tightened around her, making clear that his body's language was to be trusted more than his words.

Their lips met in a soft, carefully restrained kiss. Its brevity and its softness stood in sharp contrast to the night at the ruin. It lacked the previous passion. It was as though the previous encounter's fire smoldered under a pile of ash, contained.

"I really should go, lest I frighten you away again," he said.

"I didn't leave your world because anything you did frightened me." She stared into the blue depths of his eyes.

"Didn't you?"

"Actually, I was astounded by how wonderful it was. I have thought about nothing else since then. I promise I won't vanish this time."

He struggled to contain the desire that threatened to once again rage out of control. His real reason for thinking of departure was his difficulty in maintaining his reserved composure with her. The feel of her against him was compelling. The more affectionate she was, the more open in her confessions, the more intensely he yearned to possess her entirely. He wanted to claim her destruction, her magic, her very being as his own.

As she looked into his eyes, he could feel the tender nudge of her psyche again, and felt it pull him gently into her mind. The sudden closeness undercut the discipline of his carefully practiced restraint and reignited the smoldering passion. He kissed her ardently, devouring the sudden, intense psychic intimacy which no one else in the world could offer him.

The moon made its slow trek across the sky as they lost themselves in an endless flurry of hungry kisses, caresses and whispered desires. They rediscovered the passion of the forbidden attraction they had experienced at the ruin.

"Dirk?" Zyrdicia asked softly. "The night you woke me, when I was almost trapped in Hell. You remember you said a voice in your dream told you to come to me?"

"Mm," he answered absently, his lips distracted with the soft, white skin of her throat.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"You."

"In what way?"

"We were..." He paused, suddenly self-conscious. He was somewhat embarrassed by it.

"You had an erotic dream about me?" she smiled, obviously pleased.

"Several, actually. You are very difficult to keep out of my thoughts, even when I sleep," he whispered, pushing a handful of the fabric of her dress aside in order to reveal more flesh to nibble. The sensation distracted her from further questions, as he hoped it would.

To his frustration, a few moments later she began again. "Tell me what we did in your dreams."

"No," he responded, covering her mouth with his and filling it with his tongue in order to prevent her from continuing the uncomfortable line of questioning.

"Please tell me," she pleaded telepathically as they kissed.

"No."

"Were they violent?"

He hesitated before answering. "Yes."

She pulled away from the kiss to regard him curiously. In her eyes there was no reproach or disgust at his admission. On the contrary, to her it seemed perfectly normal that sex and violence would be bundled in a single fantasy. She readily understood the most lethal aspect of his being, a part the rest of the world attributed to madness. It was the very thing she liked about him. She sensed his discomfort and found it inexplicable. "If I thought you were too weak to appreciate the beauty of violence, you would not be here. I enjoy you precisely because your psyche has a magnificent dark side," she assured telepathically.

He kissed her with renewed fierceness, and projected a few images from the dreams into her mind. She did not recoil in fear or horror as any other woman would have. Instead, she gasped in wonder. Her unanticipated reaction emboldened him. He telepathically sent her a stream of his surreal memories of their brutal union, and commented, "At least in the dreams there is no demonic chastity belt to prevent us from fulfilling our desires."

"The Edict isn't a chastity belt. It only forbids one act. There are countless others it fails to anticipate," she answered silently.

"Then let us retire to more comfortable quarters and consider them."

Zyrdicia led Dirk toward a door in the rear of the observatory. On the way to it, they passed what looked like a strange game board. Its black surface contained a handful of tiny diamonds arranged in the pattern of her dagger symbol. Below the diamonds, a small platinum disk moved of its own accord across a semicircle. Another larger disk of gold moved along a separate, inverted arc below it. Zyrdicia paused in front of it. She glanced at Dirk mischievously. Her fingers nimbly rearranged the diamonds into the shape of the Blackpool snake crest.

She pointed up at the sky, visible through the opening in the observatory's roof. The constellation of stars now mirrored the image on the board. He stared at it for a long moment, enthralled. It was precisely the order he imagined the cosmos should have. While he was transfixed with the heaven's confirmation of his might, Zyrdicia plucked the golden disk off its path on the board and cast it aside.

Dirk awoke in her bed many hours later. In the surreal splendor of her chambers, his problems in Karteia seemed to belong to another universe. He could not remember feeling as relaxed as he did right now.

He was surprised that it was still night. Less time must have passed than he had thought, though he felt wonderfully rested. Moonlight spilled in through enormous, open windows as the breeze lifted black gossamer curtains in a ghostly play of fabric.

He stretched, enjoying the liquid softness of the black, satin sheets wrapped around them. Zyrdicia slumbered next to him in perfect corpse-like repose, her face a mask of angelic innocence. Innocence was a difficult concept to associate with her after tonight. She had been wonderfully shameless. She was a sensual voluptuary. The only limit to her appetite for ecstasy had been physical exhaustion. And yet there had been something perversely innocent about her delighted wonder at his pleasure. Its discovery seemed to fill her with elated amazement. So fascinated was she by it that she actually had been disappointed when she learned of its physical limitation, of the need for him to rest after being sated.

He watched her sleep for a few moments, turning over the details of the otherworldly encounter in his mind. Despite the Edict's magical prohibition on intercourse with her, the physical aspect of the experience had been astonishingly intense. Her craving for certain kinds of pain amazed him. It made her an ideal toy. It also gave him a remarkably satisfying means of mastering her.

As magnificently bizarre as that facet the encounter had been, however, the non-physical element had been even stranger. What had happened had gone far beyond the psychic connection he had felt her establish on earlier occasions. She was not merely present in his mind, nor he in hers. At the peak of their passion, he had the distinct sensation that she had pulled his soul and his consciousness out of his body and into her own. He had been aware of every sensation in her body, as well as his. More importantly, the instant their spirits converged, he had beheld first-hand the unholy power coursing through her, and it had been his, an extension of himself. It was an inverted religious experience - instead of witnessing a deity, he had briefly had the sensation of being one. The pleasure associated with experiencing such awesome power vastly transcended that of the banal exchange of bodily fluids that an encounter with any other woman would have entailed.

She awoke when he pulled her body closer to him. The gesture was more one of possession than affection. She opened her eyes and saw him regarding her.

"Dearest, I have a meeting with important barons in the morning. I should think about returning. I want you to come back with me."

Zyrdicia's eyes twinkled impishly. She shook her head firmly.

He arched an eyebrow. "No?"

"I've decided to keep you here. You will never grow old. And without magic, you will never escape."

"I can certainly think of less pleasant ways to be imprisoned," Dirk smiled. He rolled her unnaturally light body on top of him, certain that she was not serious. "But my beautiful jailer should be wary of rebellious prisoners who threaten to take control of the dungeon from her."

A sharp knock at her chamber door interrupted them. Zyrdicia ignored it. The knock repeated. "Portia, go away!" she called.

Portia entered immediately. "Sorry, reality calls."

"What part of 'go away' was unclear?" Zyrdicia sneered.

"If that insolent wench worked for me she would have earned her death a thousand times..." the prince whispered under his breath.

Portia ignored their comments. The administrative expert looked at the prince. "Your castle thinks you've fallen off the edge of the earth. You missed an audience with a rather unpleasant group of nobles and they are irate. Cai is afraid if you don't return soon that someone will start a rumor that you are dead and in order to discuss appointing your brother as Regent. He sent me on a search and rescue mission." She glanced at Zyrdicia, "And you have a Council meeting in Lyr in two hours."

"I'm not attending!" Zyrdicia protested.

"Oh, yes you are. The issue of your goblin war is on the agenda. Magnus has filibustered for weeks keeping it off the table. No more putting it off. He made me promise no matter how much you whine that I will get you there."

"What time is it?" Dirk asked, suddenly confused.

"In Karteia it is seven in the evening. You have been gone forty-seven hours. When she turns off the sun, time flows differently here."

10.9

Bethel replaced the leather-bound black book on the Prince Blackpool's nightstand. She was careful to place it exactly where it had been when she borrowed a few hours ago. The Witch had a peculiar suspicion about the prince's whereabouts, though she had been unable to locate him in Vector's viewscope.

The book had served two equally useful purposes. It had relieved her nagging sense of worry about any possible involvement between her prince and the demonic interloper. The she-devil creature was clearly unable to provide for his needs. That eased the Witch's mind. More importantly, however, it gave her an idea to get rid of the intruder should the need arise.