17.1

The dragon raised its head protectively when Portia materialized with the prince on the beach. The air smelled of magical fire. The scent of seared flesh mingled with that of ozone. The village at the edge of the beach had not merely been destroyed, it had been obliterated. There were mangled corpses everywhere. Every building had been reduced to burning rubble. Even from the distance, it looked like a gruesome nightmare. The setting made Zyrdicia seem more like an incarnation of an angel of destruction than any indigenous northern goddess.

Whatever she suffered with the demons certainly did not make her any kinder, Dirk mused, unperturbed by the gory backdrop.

The dragon's huge green eyes fixed upon the man accompanying Portia. Dirk stared back. He had not been this close to Zyrdicia's dragon since the night they had first met. Portia disappeared immediately, leaving the prince alone with Zyrdicia and the beast.

Zyrdicia frowned. She did not get up. "What do you want now?" she asked wearily.

"Hi," he purred. "We really must introduce you to the social graces befitting your new role as my queen. A greeting would be more refined."

"So would an exit. You are intruding. Go away. We're really done this time."

Dirk looked down at her stretched out upon the sand. She stared at him sullenly, not even bothering to glare. "Have you been out here with that beast all night?" he inquired, ignoring her previous statement deliberately.

"Most of it."

"Why?"

Before she could speak, the dragon answered for her, hissing, "When she feels depressed, she turns to close friends for companionship. You generally fail to fulfil such a role."

Dirk's eyes widened in surprise. He was as taken aback from the sound of the creature's voice as from the substance of the words.

"Are human males always so inept in tending to their mates?" the dragon wondered intelligently.

Dirk's eyes flashed angrily. He deeply regretted coming here without his sword. "How dare you!" he whispered.

"It's a fair question. When a dark mood strikes Zyrdicia, she always turns elsewhere. Why is that?"

"Roshor, enough," Zyrdicia sighed. "He isn't used to your bluntness. He thinks you're trying to insult him."

"Insult him?" the dragon snorted indignantly. "If that were my intent, I would simply eat him."

Zyrdicia explained wearily to Dirk, "According to legend, at Creation dragon-kind traded tact for wings."

"How fortunate the species is nearly extinct!"

"I can always count on Roshor for brutal honesty. I need that." Her expression hardened. "Why are you here?"

"You disappointed me last night. That's a dangerous thing to do."

"Is that why you tried to punish me by sending me off to bed alone?" she sneered.

His facial expression froze. He realized instantly what had happened. He was sorely tempted to confirm her misunderstanding, just to be vicious. There was little sport in it when she was in such a state, though. "You left because you were angry that I announced that I was sending you back to your own chambers?"

"I left because I never should have returned! Believe me when I say we're finished."

"Zyrdicia, your rashness never ceases to amaze me. Truly. Had you bothered to inquire your destination with your escort, you would have learned that I ordered him to take you to my quarters. I was disappointed to find you weren't there waiting for me!" He watched her blink in astonishment.

"You just made that up."

"Why would I bother? You can confirm it in the thoughts of the knight whom I sent with you. I was certain you would be sufficiently perceptive to understand the ruse, and the need for it."

"I thought you . . ." her voice trailed off.

"Could it have been any more obvious?" he asked sharply. It was incomprehensible to him that she had not picked up on the ploy. Normally very little escaped her notice.

She shrugged, still looking glum. The guilelessness of her demeanor stood in stark contrast to the spite she had clandestinely displayed last night. Dirk studied her face carefully. Of all the emotions her eyes could radiate, sadness seemed most out of place. After his nearly disastrous error in reading her emotions the night the demon attacked on Kirilia, he was cautious. Whatever its source, he could not afford another such mistake on the day of his ratification assembly. He reached out his hand to her. "Come here."

She hesitated a moment then reached out and let him pull her up from the beach. She winced visibly from the pain in her torso as she stood up. Seeing the surprise register in Dirk's eyes she snapped defensively, "Don't say anything! It's nothing."

"You are lying."

"After a week of being trapped motionless, being a little sore after a night out with the dragon is hardly cause for concern."

"It is when you had nearly every bone in your body broken. You should be resting, not wasting your energy on senseless distraction."

"It's none of your business what I waste my energy on." Standing facing him, she turned her face toward the crashing waves, refusing to meet his gaze.

"It's very much my business." He turned her chin toward him. "We most assuredly are not 'done.'"

"I know," she sighed, still sounding sad. Her need to defeat Zyr and Azriok left her with no alternative. "But I wish we were."

"I don't believe you. You look as though you fell asleep alone and have suffered unpleasant dreams," he noted quietly.

"No. Though lately I've come to wonder whether my dreamworld isn't preferable to this one. I can't tell the difference anymore."

"I doubt that."

"Of course you do. You are mortal. You are incapable of understanding."

"Is that why you tried to pull me through my own dream of you to warn me when you were wounded on the astral plane?"

Zyrdicia's sullenness became confused. She had no idea what he was talking about. "You still have those dreams about me?" she asked, brightening ever so slightly.

"They started again after you left," the prince answered reluctantly. He sent her a telepathic stream of his memory of the strange dream. He watched her turn the dream over in her mind. She looked quite befuddled.

"I didn't send it. Your dreamworld somehow intersected with my reality. Not even Astaroth could have done that, given where I was." She met his gaze briefly and a flicker of the familiar sense of connection passed through them. Her pretty brow furrowed. To her the conversation only served as further confirmation that the stable boundary between the nightmare of sleep was collapsing into her waking hours.

"I thought you were dying, in the dream."

"I thought I was too. Several times." She smiled thinly, her face devoid of mirth. "I wish I still could."

"Do you have any idea how frustrating it was for me?"

Zyrdicia frowned as though such a thought had never occurred to her. "No."

"I want to know what happened there."

"I don't remember."

"Do not lie to me!"

"If I repeat the lie often enough, I'll come to believe it myself. I don't remember." She scowled as a barely perceptible shudder raced involuntarily down her spine at the mention of the memory. "I don't want to talk about it."

Dirk stared at her intently. He was overwhelmed by morbid curiosity. Pushing her on the subject now was liable to backfire and cause her to retreat further. He would have to wait and pursue it in a moment when she was less unstable.

He brought his hand to her cheek, running his thumb along her jawbone. "I would have come after you if I had known where to find you."

"That's why I didn't tell anyone where I would be." She pushed his hand gently away from her face then entwined her fingers in her salt-covered black locks, still frowning.

Dirk's eyes moved to her hand. He reached for it, examining her fingers. "You are not wearing the ring I gave you."

"I wouldn't want it to slip off in the water," she lied.

It was the first time he had seen her hand without gloves in a very long time. Her scowl returned when she saw that her wrist caught the prince's attention. He noted several new scars had joined those previously adorning its white skin. She twisted her hand out of his grasp, uncharacteristically self-conscious.

He knew at least one was the source of the blood at Grand Kirilia. Given what he knew of Baal, he was certain that whatever happened on the island must have been a horrifying prelude to the torment in the astral plane. That she had perceived a need to suffer it rather than betray him to the demon pleased Dirk. There were few gestures of affection that had meaning in his world. That was one that most assuredly did.

He touched her drying hair. His eyes traveled down the length of her. Even having recently emerged from the ocean, she was still covered with traces someone else's blood. The civilized demeanor of last night's performance was a brilliant facade. At heart she remained incorrigibly feral, more at home with demons and dragons than a royal court. He commented wryly, "You cannot attend the meeting of the Baronial Council like this."

"Did you come after me just to make sure than I am appropriately dressed?"

"I came to make sure that you are appropriately present. Your disappearance displeased me. Until the barons approve my ascension, you are not to leave my castle."

Zyrdicia regarded him suspiciously. "This performance for your nobles has you usually anxious. You fear you won't be king?"

"I fear nothing!"

"And that's why you came to find me hours before it begins?"

"Tonight marks the beginning of a new age of history. Mine. I have no intention of permitting you to imperil it with inane journeys."

Zyrdicia sighed. "As though returning to your world was any less inane," she muttered disinterestedly. "Whatever. I'm beyond caring. I have to take Roshor home. And while I'm there I will don whatever costume our next performance demands. Then we can go and feign fondness of one another."

"We did an admirable job of that last night."

"Not that admirable."