12.3.0

When the door to the sitting room opened, Geoffrey quickly shoved something under a pile of papers in order to hide it from view. He looked up nervously.

"Oh, it's you!" he sighed, looking visibly relieved. "I thought it was my brother."

Zyrdicia stared at him inquisitively. "And what is it that you are doing that you don't want him to know about?" she asked amiably. She considered delving into his mind but imagined the endeavor would be frustrating and annoying.

"I was just wrapping his birthday present for next week. "

She had no idea that Dirk's birthday was so near. He certainly had not said anything. Egocentric creature that he was, he undoubtedly expected her to simply divine the knowledge somehow. "What day?"

"Thursday," Geoffrey answered.

She smiled conspiratorially, "Geoffrey, I won't tell him I saw you here...as long as you won't mention we had this conversation."

The young prince nodded, relieved she was on his side, "Deal."

12.3.1

Zyrdicia transported herself back to Castle Blackpool as dawn broke across the gray, rain-soaked northern landscape. She was very pleased with herself. She knew Dirk hated surprises. That knowledge made arranging something terribly shocking for his birthday irresistible. As she thought about her plan, she could not resist laughing. With only one more day until his birthday, and her plot had fallen into place magnificently.

She stopped by the prince's chamber to let him know she was back from her nightly visit to the volcano and other wanderings. She was certain he would already be awake.

"What are you smiling about?" Dirk asked suspiciously. He had been unable to observe her in the monocle recently. The sudden change bothered him. He suspected that she was trying to conceal something.

"What I'm smiling about is an alien concept in your world: it's called mirth,' she teased.

He looked down her body slowly. She was not dressed for the chill of autumn in the North. Her very short leather dress left her long, shapely legs exposed. Given the icy October weather, her revealing attire confirmed that she could not have been in Dagonia. Though she looked stunning, he wondered what she had been doing dressed that way.

He pulled her against him roughly, intending to kiss her. He stopped suddenly. There was no trace the wondrous fragrance she usually wore. His eyes narrowed. "Your hair smells of salt. Where have you been?"

"Dancing with the dragon over the shark-infested waters near Lyr. When that got boring, we moved on to dance over the magma in my volcano," she lied. She knew the death-defying activity annoyed him. It was more a taunt than an answer.

"I don't believe you."

Zyrdicia rolled her eyes and pushed him away. "Like I fucking care what you believe!" she sneered, anticipating the argument that was about to erupt. A quarrel would deflect attention away from her errand. Her spiteful demeanor would ensure that he did not suspect that she had actually been off finalizing the details of his birthday gift.

The argument that ensued probably woke most of the castle's residents. They had not been as vicious to one another since the argument in Tronin, the night she had been wounded by Baphim. This time there was no warm embrace afterward, no steamy tumbling into one another's arms. He was furious that she would not reveal where she had really been.

She announced snidely that she had first gone to swim with the reef sharks and sea monsters in the lagoon south of Lyr, "since nothing is as erotic as the feel of an eight-foot- long moray eel slithering along my body." When that only provoked him further, she gave in and sarcastically confessed that she had really been in the underworld, fucking Death for a change, since the Edict did not apply there. That had prompted a series of enraged promises to send her back there, since the underworld was the only appropriate dwelling place for a creature as odious as she. She pushed his rage as far as she dared - pushing any further would probably risk a genuine effort to kill her. Provoking violence would likely trigger an urge to transform the spat into a sexual encounter - a result she was carefully avoiding. She wanted to keep him angry at her this time. As she stormed out of the room, she realized how she could ensure that desired result.

After the caustic tiff in Dirk's chambers, she went back to her quarters and shuffled through a large wooden chest. She had not seen a particular piece of magical cloth for several months, and she needed to find it quickly. There was no time to go hunting through the South Tower for what she needed. After several minutes, she finally found the cloth folded neatly at the bottom of the chest. It was the same magical cloth that still contained the portrait of Dirk's ancestor who was a member of the Order of the Golden Unicorn.

Grabbing it she raced invisibly back through the castle's secret passages to the prince's chambers. Listening at the door, she heard water splashing. He was bathing in the next room. Perfect! she thought, laughing silently. She slipped into his sleeping chamber through the secret door invisibly. His chambermaid was nowhere to be seen. A valet had already laid out his clothes for the day on the bed.

Zyrdicia quickly tossed the enchanted cloth to the ground. As it fell, a small, magical hole opened. She reached into the nether space and found what she was looking for. She scooped a handful of scurrying spiders out of it, biting her tongue to keep from giggling as they tickled her fingers. There were fewer than she had hoped - ten or twelve at most. She layered several into his clothes. She nudged the little black creatures into the sleeves of the leather he wore under his armor, and down into his breeches as well. She flipped his gloves up so that she could house a spider in each of them. For good measure, she even tossed a few into his boots. She smiled as she watched a stray Death Widow explore the layout of his bedspread.

She snatched up her magical storage space and pranced out of the room, shutting the door silently. She nudged the door carefully so that it would be just slightly ajar. He would notice. She was quite sure of that. And she had no doubt that he would know whom to blame for the prank. Now he would be angry.

Zyrdicia was in good spirits before; now she was a bundle of gaiety. The staged argument had been a great deal of fun. She wanted very much to be there to see Dirk's reaction to the arachnids waiting in his clothes. She did not dare though. It was better to let him rage and seeth by himself at this point.

She went off in search of Geoffrey and Vector. She dreaded the need to call upon them to bring her plan into fruition. She could think of no way around it. For the finishing touches, she needed their help. She had waited until the last possible moment.

After she explained to Geoffrey very slowly what she intended to do the next evening, she watched him turn the plan over in his head. He was obviously having difficulty.

He frowned slightly and mumbled, "You cannot take the Kirilian Islands with a single regiment overnight. It is impossible. Camarand has a coast guard patrolling the strait."

"That is my problem. I just need you to bring the regiment through the magic gate when I need them. By the time they come through, I'll have already taken the islands. I just need your troops to help with fortification when I'm done. I'm great with slaughter, but lousy with aftermath."

The young prince's serious expression was undiminished. He warned, "My brother will be very angry when he learns that a regiment is missing from Tronin."

"That, too, will be my problem. I'm used to his anger. It's how we relate to each other. Besides, don't you think giving him a southern province for his birthday will offset his irritation just a little?" she asked, smiling sweetly.

Geoffrey nodded. It would make Dirk happy. He imagined involvement in the unexpected military victory would earn him respect in his brother's eyes. He nodded uneasily, "OK, I'll help you."

Vector had been listening to the exchange silently. He could not for the life of him understand why she was going to such trouble for such a trivial event. "And what is it you require of me?" he asked graciously, trying to disguise his scorn for such nonsense.

"I just need you to keep Dirk busy until midnight. Find someone to torture. Play Barkin. Whatever. Just find a reason to transport him to Grand Kirilia at exactly midnight."

"Keep him busy?" Vector repeated distastefully.

"Take him to visit Bethel, for all I care. Just prevent him from suspecting what is going on. It is not a difficult task He couldn't possibly find out unless one of you tells him." Her countenance took on the familiar disturbing innocence as she added, "If he does find out, I'll personally feed the culprit's soul to one of my demon friends."

Vector fidgeted, weighing her words. He knew she was more than capable of it. He considered the task she had set out for him and realized suddenly that it would be possible to follow her instructions exactly and still spoil the prince's birthday. "It will be my pleasure to do as you ask," he said through a saccharine smile.