15.2

Dirk came by Zyrdicia's chamber again soon after sunrise. Portia had sent Anthony to take him word several times during the night that Zyrdicia was better. The prince, however, looked as though he had not slept at all. He seemed uncharacteristically subdued. "Hi. Will she be well in time for the announcement?"

"We don't know, honey. She is still comatose," Anthony muttered as he shut the door to the antechamber. He looked exhausted. They all did, in fact.

"Have you tried to wake her?"

"Uh, you can try. We can't get near her now," Portia said irritably.

"Why?" Dirk asked, his eyes settling on Philip. The little man held a large bundle of ice to a nasty lump on his aging head. Whatever caused it was of no interest to the prince. "Why can't you get near her?" he reiterated.

"See for yourself." Portia gestured to the bed. "She summoned it a few hours ago. She got tired of Philip poking at her, I think."

Dirk glared at the elf. "Entirely understandable."

The prince strained to make out the form of the black shape atop the black coverlet across the room. A pair of red eyes glowed in the room's semi-darkness. They belonged to an enormous, winged mastiff made entirely of shadow. It sat alertly upon the foot of the bed, watching.

"What is it?" Dirk asked.

"Malice."

"Malice?"

"Her Dakaemeh. Commonly known as a devil dog. Don't piss it off. Please."

"She summoned a demon?"

"In her sleep. Uh-huh. It breathes hellfire. Fangs as big as your fist. Hates every living thing but her. Charming guardian. Not."

Anthony piped up, wearily, "She thinks it's cute. She wanted a puppy as a kid and Azriok gave her this."

"How can you be sure it won't harm her?"

"No joke - it's a pet. See the tag? That thing loves her. If you can call blind devotion and obedience love. She called it back from its 'kennel' in Hell."

Dirk approached the bed slowly, his hand on the monocle. The devil dog sat up on its haunches as the prince neared, then bared its black, sabre-like fangs. Its protective snarl caused the ground to vibrate. Twirls of smoke undulated out of its nostrils as it sniffed the air menacingly, sizing up the mortal scent. Its leathery wings snapped out, signalling the beast's readiness to lunge through the air at the intruder.

"I'd stop," Portia cautioned.

Dirk paused a few feet from the bed. He was close enough to see the beast really did wear a small, black, metal heart-shaped tag. It hung from a leather collar encrusted with thick, metal spikes: 'My name is Malice. If found, please return to Zyrdicia." It listed the address of the Old Temple in Lyr.

Dirk smirked. Of course it was a pet. It was so typical of her. It was bad enough that she summoned demons into his castle; letting them on the furniture was intolerable. Even unconscious Zyrdicia still had a remarkable capacity to irritate him. "Malice, off!" Dirk snapped, gesturing to the floor.

The infernal canine responded with a deafening series of warning barks that echoed interminably throughout the entire castle. Dirk had to jump back as a spout of flames shot out of the creature's mouth with each bark.

Zyrdicia slept through it all. She remained huddled in her bed, comatose. Within a few hours, the noise from the guests in the main part of the castle became terribly loud. She slumbered on, oblivious to the racket - and the rapidly approaching deadline for the engagement announcement.