23.5

Zyrdicia spent the next twenty hours traveling in Andireon's company. She watched him put Cupid's bow to use and found she felt better seeing others suffer. When that game grew dull, they decimated the little town that had been their playground. She had indulged the blood hunger with him, and gorged until she was ill. Despite the excess, she found that she liked the new angel far more than she had expected.

There was nothing threatening about him to her. He was a lesser angel - low enough on the hierarchy to be easily overwhelmed by the power of the energy flow she drew from Zyr and Azriok. She had no reason to fear him, and she found that she enjoyed sharing the company of a being who understood the mysterious, demonic facet of her existence.

Since humanity had betrayed her, she decided that it was time to get to know the other side of her family tree. They had ended their magic-filled, murderous frolic amicably. She was certain she would be seeing more of him soon.

The experience was strange enough to leave her feeling totally disconnected from the human world that was her home. She truly felt like she no longer belonged there.

23.5.1

After her jaunt with Andireon, she settled into a lingering depression. Andireon's lies irked her a little now that she was outside his company. She knew that he was merely trying to assuage the emotions that he had picked up on to endear himself to her, but now that she was alone, the lie about Dirk having suffered the sting of one of Andireon's magical arrows was bitter.

No one should have had the power to make her hurt this much. Dirk had ruined everything. The sense of betrayal, disappointment and loss weighing on her now was worse than any depression she could remember. Loneliness was easier to bear when it was the only thing she had ever known. Feeling alone after having had the illusion of being so close to someone was a thousand times worse. She felt paralyzed by it.

It was as though the cosmos were now conspiring to punish her for daring to be happy, even for a little while. At least in the past with Azriok, she had merely careened from one level of discontent to another. This time, she had just terminated one of the only periods of genuine contentment in her agonizingly long life.

She realized now that Dirk must have constructed their entire relationship as one grand trap to lure her into trusting him only to crush her when she least expected it. She hated him for it. But she knew how to repay those who dared to harm her. Dirk's ploy merited a level of vengeance she had not dealt upon the world since she exterminated the Zyrian priesthood.

She knew better than to simply kill Dirk outright. Vengeance would have to be far more painful for him. She wanted him to suffer before he died. For that to happen, he would have to lose everything he had ever even contemplated caring about. His kingdom would fall. His castle would be reduced to dust. But most importantly, she wanted to see him surrender to his enemies in the South. Once he lost everything, only then would she subject him to eternal torment. She expected she could draw a death out forever, if she was careful. She imagined that she would begin by severing a body part at a time. And she knew just what body part she intended to sever first.

23.5.2

After several days of skulking like a zombie beneath Lyr in the catacombs, Zyrdicia finally mustered up the courage to return to Karteia to look for Azriok's key to the Hell Window. She went directly to her temple in Geshna. There, she sifted through the prayers and offerings left by the faithful upon the polished, black altar.

She had no idea where to begin looking for the key - or for the Hell Window - so she busied herself reading through the desperate pleas of the locals who called upon her for divine intervention. No worshippers came while she waited. She would have gratefully granted any prayer anyone brought to her, in exchange for a little bit of adoration that might take the edge off her loneliness. But the citizens of Geshna denied her even that simple pleasure tonight.

Eventually she took a seat atop a pile of rubble, sullenly watching her temple's nocturnal construction. Her chin rested on her knees as her eyes moved languidly from worker to worker, tracking each stone's progress.

Work crews were very busy fixing the damage she had recently caused. Dirk had apparently pulled in fresh peasants from other construction projects. With meticulous efficiency, he had arranged disposal of the dead bodies and removal of the gore from her last bout of blood hunger. The new workers diligently repaired the wall she had blown apart. A special team of guards had been sent from Castle Blackpool to supervise them. She wondered why Dirk even bothered.

The guards' presence suggested that she could only afford to stay a short time here without confronting the man she so hated. And it was much too soon for that. She knew that the guards had already dispatched a rider to brave the snow-packed road to Castle Blackpool to send word that she was here. Their thoughts betrayed their mission, though they acted with great stealth.

She glanced at the soldiers lurking in the shadows, noting their efforts to stay out of her way. They had been given explicit orders not to disturb her, should she make an appearance.

A familiar, fast-clipped voice with a slight lisp caught her by surprise from an open door way. "There you are! Honey, everybody's been looking all over for you. People have been worried!"

Recognizing Charles, she replied, "I don't give a fuck what 'people' worry about." She beckoned for him to climb atop the rubble pile and sit with her, "But you can stay with me."

He stared up impatiently. "Um, what, am I supposed to climb rocks like a mountain goat?"

She shrugged indifferently, unwilling to use her magic to help him reach her. For all she knew, she would propel him through the stone ceiling into the stratosphere.

He glared at her, and put his hands on his hips. When he finally realized she was not going to change her mind and assist him, he began to delicately climb up one block at a time. He shook his head irritably, "And these are new shoes, too!"

The sight of his excessive care brought a half smile to Zyrdicia's face.

Reaching the top, he brushed off the stone block next to her before sitting down. He smirked briefly at her, then sat down with exaggerated grace. He crossed his legs and settled his hands in his lap. He looked her over carefully from head to toe. He wagged his head from side to side in disapproval of what he saw.

"What?" she frowned.

"Pum'kin, I love you and all, but you look like shit. You sick?"

"Of the world."

"Oh, please. That angst-y thing never looks good on you. You look way, way tired. Dark circles under your eyes - like you haven't slept in days."

"Eight days."

"Well, it shows. And you have that pale, sunken, death-warmed-over look you get when you stop eating, too. Am I right?"

"Yeah," she admitted sheepishly.

"And, to be honest, you look kind of blue."

"Blue? I never wear blue!" she protested.

"Sad, honey, it means sad. You look like your dragon died or something."

Zyrdicia's eyes widened. "Roshor's dead?!"

"No, no, no!" Charles corrected quickly. "I'm just saying, it's not one of your better days."

"Oh," she frowned, confused.

He pressed his lips together disapprovingly and looked squarely at her. He chided, "Well, li'l vacation trip to Hell didn't much agree with you. You know better than to go messing with your ex! All he does is fuck with your head."

Zyrdicia's eyes narrowed. "How do you know I went to see Az'?"

"Everybody knows. Philip heard from some little demons that saw you there. He blabbed to everybody. He might as well have taken out an ad in the Liar. He talks way more about crap that isn't his business than I do - I don't care what anyone says." Charles dropped his voice and added in a gossipy tone, "After Anthony heard this morning, he went and told Dirk and he said Dirk was so jealous steam nearly came out of his ears."

Zyrdicia stared for a long moment, stunned that everyone knew that she had gone to see Azriok. She had no idea that Philip was spying on her with demons of his own. A single word to Azriok through the Hell Window would put an end to it.

Charles patted her leg reassuringly, "Sweetie, Az' is bad for you. 'Sides, you got a real man waiting for you at home now."

"No, I don't." Changing the subject, she demanded, "Why are you here in Geshna?"

Charles shrugged. "Lyr has gone into hibernation mode. That weird end-of-year, shut-down-the-whole-damn-city thing they do at Christmas time."

"Days of Darkness. After living there for five years, you'd think you could remember what it's called. It starts tomorrow. I was just there."

"Well, if I'd known you were in Lyr, we could have had our own little piss-on-the-rest-of-'em-for-being-boring party. I came to Geshna because I couldn't find anything to do anywhere else, and I'm so fucking bored I can't stand it. Ain't nothing going on at Castle Blackpool. You'd think that place was set for a funeral."

"It is. But they don't know it yet."

"So what did His Royal High-Horse do to piss you off this week?"

"I left him. We're over. And I don't want to talk about it."

"But-"

"Drop it."

Charles pressed his lips together, biting back what he wanted to say. She heard it directly from his mind anyway. At Castle Blackpool, he had seen Anthony, who had informed him of Dirk's mental state. Charles and Anthony were very, very eager to find out what had transpired.

Charles blurted out, "You always tell me everything, 'Dicia!"

She shook her head sadly, "I don't even have words to explain it. Dirk was lying about everything. The whole thing was a twisted fucking game. He played me."

Charles cocked his head to the side, trying to make sense of this. He immediately connected the timing with the publication of her glowing interview about falling in love with Dirk. When he registered the full import, his eyes widened, and he bit his lip.

She murmured, "I didn't see this coming."

"You sure you didn't misunderstand something? What'd he say?" Charles grabbed her hand and squeezed it warmly.

"No misunderstanding. He told me that I'm a monster, that no one could possibly love a demon-thing like me, that he never felt anything for me, that our whole relationship was a ruse to toy with me. And now that he doesn't need me, it's over."

Charles eyes grew large in disbelief. He drew his chin back in a circular motion as he said, "No he didn't!"

"Yes, he did."

"You going to kick his ass?"

"Uh-huh. I have to. That's how it works." She nodded to herself and said, "I'm going to wipe his entire kingdom off the map."

He studied her face for a minute, frowning. To him, it made no sense at all. He had seen Dirk with Zyrdicia often enough to be totally convinced that the man had fallen head-over-heals for Zyrdicia. He whispered, "If he played you, he played all of us. I've never seen a man who I thought had it as bad for someone as he had it for you."

She stared straight ahead blankly, saying nothing.

He continued, "You got your heart broken. We've all been there, honey. And your friends will take care of you. Wanna go see Magnus?"

"Later. Right now I have things to do here. What happened with that business I sent you on in your homeworld?"

"All done. I found a lady who is, like, the world's expert on those sorts of girlie issues. She swears she can take care of whatever you want. Whenever you want to do your thing, she's in."

Zyrdicia smirked darkly for a moment. It seemed the soul spawning was now taking care of itself. "Listen to me. I want you to go to her now. I want to meet with her. I have a question to put to her. And don't tell anyone that you are working on this, or that you've seen me."

"Not even -"

"NO ONE."

"Okay. But you have to promise me one thing?"

"What?"

"Before we go to LA, I get to make you look presentable. I don't want to be seen with you there if you look anything short of fabulous. 'Kay?"

23.5.3

After Charles left, Zyrdicia concentrated on working through the details of her plan to permanently rid herself of the loneliness she so hated. There was only one possible ending that she could foresee. She had to destroy the entire cosmos. But before she could do that, she had to make sure Dirk lost his war against the South.

A man's voice interrupted her silent ruminations. "You look as though you are frightfully unhappy. Are you truly so sad, my lady?"

The male voice was vaguely familiar. Without looking down, she sniffed the air, hoping to identify the intruder by scent. She smelled nothing. Only then did she realize he also left no mental footprint. He had approached silently and masked his thoughts masterfully.

She glanced down impatiently, wondering who dared to bother her on a night like this. Count Tristan Ildewynd beamed up at her. She had not seen him since the night of her wedding, and she had no interest in seeing him now. She growled, "What do you want?"

"From the look on your face, you could use a friend - and a stiff drink. Trouble at home at Castle Blackpool?"

"My home has always been in Lyr."

Tristan said, "I was on my way into the city center. I hope you'll join me. Your appearance there would be quite a sensation. It will lift your spirits."

"I'm sure being seen in my company would do wonders for your social standing," Zyrdicia said, making no effort to disguise her mockery of him.

Tristan grinned roguishly. "Admittedly true. But if you would prefer to go somewhere more private, I would be happy to oblige."

The suggestiveness of his tone brought a wry smile to Zyrdicia's lips. The tactless Count was too bold for his own good. She gestured with her head toward the guards still lurking in the shadows and said, "Words like that said too loudly might earn you a cell in Castle Blackpool's dungeon."

"Ah, yes. Our ever-jealous monarch tries to keep you all to himself. Rumor has it our king is so smitten with you that he rarely lets you out of his sight."

She said flatly, "He never had the power to keep me anywhere, least of all within his sights."

"I note your choice of past tense."

"Perceptive."

"So I'm told," he winked, undeterred by her icy demeanor. "Then celebration is in order. You have missed Geshna's lovely nightlife. I'm told that it's fashionable in Lyr to come here to play now. Throngs are coming here to escape that grim Yule festival in Lyr I keep hearing about."

"Tourists?" she blinked, genuinely surprised.

"Truth be told, the tourists have been coming in small numbers ever since your marriage. Now there are just more of them. They apparently find our snow an amusing novelty. Hasn't anyone told you about all the people who flock through the trade gates to see this new place you've chosen to reside?"

"No."

Tristan shook his head in playful disapproval. He teased, "Not only does your husband lock you up in that boring castle, but he keeps you from being properly informed about your own barony, my lady. How unforgivable."

"Don't bother trying to start something."

"I sense something has already started. To the cafes then?"

He reached out a hand to her as she stepped down from the rubble. She ignored the proffered hand, stepping down gracefully on her own.

The royal guards stationed at the temple watched her exit with the mysterious Count Ildewynd. They would have never dared to question the queen - or the nobleman. But it was anomalous enough to be worth noting in the report to the king.

Zyrdicia paused at the entrance to the temple, eyeing the guards. By now someone from Castle Blackpool was surely on the way to the temple with a message for her. For all she knew, Dirk might come himself, if only to salt her wounds.

She intended to leave something appropriate for him to find here. She snapped her fingers at the guards. Purple hellfire exploded, engulfing the men and the entire work crew. They all screamed momentarily. Then the temple was silent.

Tristan's face betrayed not a trace of surprise. He pursed his lips, regarding the charred corpses with equal parts admiration and curiosity.