11.5.0

Zyrdicia wrinkled her nose in distaste as she observed the effects of her latest earthquake. She had moved the lake bed at least twenty feet. The massive tremor caused the water to flood a lakeshore town and drown several of the residents. Her earthquakes had become much more devastating in recent weeks, given her frequent practice. Still, she felt something was missing.

It had become boring. The earth moved and people died. It was quite predictable, and rather devoid of flair. There was no challenge to it. She felt the loathsome stirring of an identity crisis taking root. How can I expect people to worship me if I cannot even kill them in interesting ways?

She sat upon a new embankment and stared at the wasted township, uninspired. Her lips settled into a dark, petulant pout. She sent a massive burst of purple flames toward the flooded town, causing the flood waters to boil. It was a little better, but she still found it far from spectacular.

Dirk had been very specific in requesting that she not destroy everyone. She was only supposed to destroy a little bit at a time, in order to wear down the resolve of the southern leaders. The idea was to persuade them that surrender would be preferable to total annihilation. It seemed to be working. Dunfirm and three other disaster-swept counties in Camarand had already capitulated, despite the kingdom's otherwise valiant resistance. The South was fragmenting and falling apart, a chunk at a time.

She felt herself losing interest in the qualification that she destroy slowly. She watched the steam rise off the boiling water, searching for inspiration within her mind's shadowy labyrinth. As the white swirls of vapor rose in the air, a wicked smile slowly replaced the pout upon her lips. She knew what she had to do.

11.5.1

A few hours later, Zyrdicia stood upon an small, newly risen mountain outside the city of Mirdon, bone-weary. A steaming mud pot bubbled and hissed a few feet away. Several jets of steam spurted out along the base of this new feature of the southern landscape. The small mountain rose above the flat delta of the River of Despair like an angry giant. Soon it would be much angrier. And much larger.

The earth movements had been deeper in the ground than any she had previously caused. She had molded this movement with excruciating care, forcing the earth's crust to crumple in a very specific way as she accessed the magma far beneath its surface.

She was too tired to even go to the city to see how its residents had fared. It did not matter. It was only an overture for a much more breath-taking spectacle. When she finished it, she imagined it would be her most glorious feat of destruction ever. Despite her extreme fatigue, she giggled wickedly as she envisioned it exploding and annihilating the entire region. "Boom!"

Tonight's preliminary task had almost completely drained her magical strength. The specificity of the earth movement, coupled with the sustained effort it took to create what she wanted, took inordinate concentration. Her objective was tremendously difficult, easily the most difficult working she had ever undertaken. Had she not had Baphim's magic at her disposal, she would have never attempted it. As it was, she realized with no small measure of disappointment that it would take longer to accomplish than she had first hoped. Still, it would be worth it. It was an act of annihilation worthy of a god. So much for destroying Camarand slowly, she thought happily.

It could not have been much past one o'clock, yet she could scarcely keep her eyes open. The massive power she had evoked had been far too much for her mortal frame to process without severe repercussions. She cursed her flesh. Were it not for its limits, she could have accomplished far more. She wondered whether such acts tired gods too.

Her body needed to rest. Every muscle felt numb from weariness. She lacked the energy to teleport off-world right now with any accuracy, though she would have like to have fled to the serenity of her cloud palace for a few hours. Even returning to Karteia would require every ounce of magic she muster.

When she reached Castle Blackpool, she realized with irritation that Portia was in Lyr. Portia often used the nocturnal hours when Zyrdicia was out and about now to deal with business. Charles and Anthony must have gone with her. Zyrdicia's mind was so paralyzed from the magical over-exertion that she could not focus on the telepathy necessary to bring any of them back.

She shivered as she undressed and wrapped herself in a heavy, velvet robe. The autumn cold bit through her. An icy rain pattered on the window glass in her chamber. No fire had been lit, for no one expected her to be here this night. Creating one with magic was out of the question. She could not create so much as a spark in her current state. She had no idea how to light a fire without magic. She knew that it was theoretically possible, but she had never paid attention to how it was done. She had no reason to. The thought of summoning house servants never occurred to her. She wished Portia would come back. She needed to sleep desperately. There was no excess Tenaebran energy to draw upon this time - she had already tapped into everything her body could take.

Shivering alone in the frigid darkness, she sighed unhappily. Being a deity really should be more fun than this, she thought bitterly. She curled up on one of the room's couches, waiting impatiently for Portia. She started to doze almost immediately. Her shivering woke her a moment later. She stood up, suddenly frightened.

There was only one solution available to her. She slunk wearily through the hidden door which led to castle's secret passages. She hoped Dirk was in his quarters. At this hour, she was fairly certain he would already be asleep. She hoped so. She had no desire to argue with him about the fact that she intended to kill everyone all at once in one glorious volcanic eruption - surrender be damned.

The portal leading from the passageway to his quarters was unlocked, as she had expected it would be. He, Geoffrey and Vector were the only people who used these secret passages. He had frequently forbidden her from using them, not that she ever paid any attention to such "requests." She knew that he knew that she would not obey. It was part of their game. He had to have something to be annoyed about or he had no idea how to relate to her.

She opened the door as quietly as she could. In the dark, she could see him asleep with his back toward her. She had no intention of waking him. She just needed to be near so that she could sleep. She glanced at the leather-covered couch on the far side of the room, then back at the bed. As cold as the night was, there was really no choice at all. She turned back the coverlet carefully so that she could slide into his bed unnoticed. In her groggy state of mind, she never noticed him stir. Her consciousness was burdened by the weight of indescribable fatigue.

The next instant she felt herself flipped through the air and pinned to the floor, a dagger blade pressed firmly to her throat. The surreality of it would have amused her, were she not so tired. Her reflexes were deadened. She was not wearing her enchanted belt, so even its strength was lost to her at the moment. It was probably the only moment since she had known Dirk that she was actually at his mercy.

"I have no doubt that I would find this situation seductive at any other time. Not tonight!" she groaned, her head pounding from being slammed upon the stone floor.

Dirk did not move the knife away from her throat. His voice was angry as he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I didn't come here to assassinate you - I came here to sleep. I cannot stay awake. It was either come here or wait for inevitable demonic visitors sleeping alone. Portia's gone and I'm too tired to find someone else..."

"You are never to surreptitiously creep into my quarters!"

"I did not want to disturb you. Let me stay. Please?" she pleaded, feeling decidedly ungoddess-like.

He heard the drowsiness and a hint of desperation in her voice. He realized suddenly how odd it had been that she had not reacted at all to his attack. She had not exhibited the slightest sign of physical or magical resistance. It was entirely unlike her. He had learned some time ago that despite his best efforts, it was almost impossible to ever stay angry at her for long. This was to be no exception.

He pulled her up off the floor where he had her trapped and was dismayed to discover how limp her body felt. Her head rolled to the side as though she could not hold it upright. "Whatever is the matter with you tonight?"

"I pushed my magic to its limits," she mumbled as she collapsed upon the bed. She was very happy to discover that the sheets were already warm. "I just have to sleep."

"What did you do?" he asked suspiciously as he pulled the fur-lined coverlet over her.

"A volcano on the outskirts of Mirdon...." she murmured, already feeling sleep's tendrils embracing her. As she drifted off, she cuddled against him in an instinctive, selfish search for warmth. She did not care in the least that he was not a natural cuddler. She was.

"Camarand's capital?!"

"Mm."

"Has this volcano erupted yet?" he prodded urgently. If Mirdon fell, Camarand would have no choice but to surrender. She ignored him, already well on her way to falling asleep. "Zyrdicia, answer me!"

"Not yet. It's not done...soon." Her words seemed to blur together.

Far from being displeased with her latest endeavor, Dirk knew that the threat of a volcanic eruption would be an ideal threat to force the South to accept unconditional surrender. It would be preferable even to the dam. They were already beaten down by an endless series of lesser disasters. The prospect of a massive cataclysm would leave them no alternative but to give up. It was much better than threatening them with one of Vector's firecons. There would be no way to escape it. He was amazed that she was capable of such a feat. There seemed no limit to what she could accomplish for him. He could not imagine how she had come upon such an idea - any more than he could imagine how she thought of damming Aparans' only major river - but it was diabolically clever.

"Oh, but you do know how to please me!" he smiled wickedly in the darkness. The thought of owning a magical volcano outside Camarand's capital, a stone's throw from the seat of Greystone power, aroused him. The slowness of her breathing told him she was already fast asleep. He sighed in frustration, irritated that sleep had, in fact, been her sole motivation in seeking his bed.

11.5.2

Several nights later, Portia followed Cai into Prince Blackpool's study the instant Zyrdicia left. Portia was worried. Zyrdicia now slept upwards of twenty hours a day. When her mistress was not working on conjuring the volcano, she was unconscious. The magic's toll was enormous.

Dirk glared at Portia when she entered. She ignored the look and announced, "This volcano idea is insane. You have to talk her out of it!"

The prince glanced at Cai quizzically, pointedly ignoring Portia. The seneschal merely shook his head helplessly and shrugged. He made no pretense of having control over Portia's tongue. She was on her own with this.

Dirk stood up and towered over the little woman. He addressed Portia sternly, "Your usefulness to Zyrdicia is the only thing that keeps me from sending you to the dungeon this very moment for your impudence. And that consideration may soon end."

Portia continued undaunted, "She has no idea what she is doing. She could blow herself up with the mountain. She can't go on like this!"

"Nonsense. The volcano is ingenious. The undertaking may be tiring, but I have complete faith in her ability."

"She has never done this before. Nobody on the material plane has ever done this successfully before. The last wizard who tried it five-hundred years ago was supposedly the greatest magical talent Lyr ever knew. He died when it erupted unexpectedly. She is not doing this for you. It's purely a vanity issue - no one has ever successfully done it, so she has to be the first."

"And why deny her the pleasure of succeeding?" he smirked. She was doing it for him. Of that he was quite certain.

"It could kill her. There are no spells or manuals for creating a volcano. This magic belongs to the province of gods. She is making it up as she goes along. Nudging the ground to cause an earthquake is one thing, but this is totally different." Portia frowned angrily, "And even if she's lucky enough to succeed, she is investing way too much energy in this. Did she tell you that she could barely even transport herself back here? Last night she almost fell asleep there. What happens if Azriok sends Howlers to abduct her when she is in that state? Or if one of her enemies in Lyr realizes she is defenseless? Or..."

"Enough!" It seemed the woman would never be silent. "Out!" he whispered menacingly.

When she was gone, Dirk warned Cai, "If she continues to irritate me, I will have her tongue cut out."

"I would be very disappointed, my lord."

"Then see that she doesn't irritate me."

"As you wish, Lord Blackpool," Cai bowed, turning to leave.