25.9

Geoffrey stepped through the magic gate that connected Castle Blackpool with Geshna. His arms were loaded with bags and boxes from a shopping expedition. A petite, veiled woman stepped gingerly out of the gate after him, stumbling as her foot hit the castle's floor.

The gate was normally used only for the arcanium revenue that arrived from Lyr, but during the winter it had also become a supply route for food and nearly everything else the castle required while the roads were impassible. In the past, the castle had to lay away stores for the winter before it became cut off by the weather. This year, every imaginable kind of foodstuff flowed in from Lyr on a daily basis.

"We really need to be getting back," the woman announced in a whine. "My daddy will be really mad if he finds out where we went."

"So let him get mad," Geoffrey grinned. He led his companion out of the supply room into a hallway. He looked both ways and listened to be sure that no one was around before leading her onward. "Just be really quiet for a second."

"Scared of your brother?"

"No," Geoffrey scoffed. "He's in a coma."

"Oh, wow. That kind of happens a lot here, huh?"

"Not that much, really," Geoffrey shifted the packages in his arms. "Just my father, and now Dirk."

"What if one day you wake up and realize you're in a coma?"

"If I were in a coma, I don't think I could wake up."

"Oh. Good point," she said.

Geoffrey turned down a second hallway and frowned. None of the guards were at their posts. The castle seemed to be deserted. He quickened his step, hurrying his companion along, "Come on."

He opened the door to the large chamber that housed the magical gate that connected the castle with Tronin. He expected the room to be empty at this late hour, except perhaps for a few guards. Instead he found a half dozen men conferring heatedly with General Depin, and about a dozen more wounded scattered about the floor. Through the open magical portal, carnage was visible on the other side in Castle Tronin.

The general, a man about twenty years Geoffrey's senior, arched a brow in surprise. "My prince, how good of you to return."

"What's going on?" Geoffrey demanded, his expression serious.

"While you were away, Castle Tronin was attacked. It seems someone gave our gate passwords to Eric's men. Any idea who could have done that?" the general asked, gazing at the veiled woman at Geoffrey's side.

"No," Geoffrey replied, his eyes widened in horror. Tronin was his responsibility. "What is the status of the castle now?" he stammered.

"The queen destroyed the attackers. But I'm afraid the situation in this castle is not yet in hand. I'm overseeing transfers of what troops we have left in Tronin back here."

Geoffrey repeated in a quivering tone, "Castle Blackpool is under attack?! Who could manage that?"

The general looked past Geoffrey at his veiled companion then back at Geoffrey. "Greystone, apparently. We are fortunate that the queen is here. She's in the throne room. You should report to her."

The woman standing behind Geoffrey whispered, "Um, I really need to get home soon. If Eric finds out I went shopping with you, I'll be in really big trouble."

The general looked vaguely amused by the prince's discomfort. He beckoned to three of the men standing near him and ordered, "Escort our prince and his companion to the throne room. Now."

25.9.1

Geoffrey entered the throne room, still carrying his armload of packages and bags. The room was bedlam. Zyrdicia was standing on the dais, flanked by Nelor and Kendall. She was covered in blood spatters. Her eyes burned with a fierce intensity, but there was no masking her exhaustion after single-handedly routing the invader's from Tronin. As she sat down on the throne and pretended to listen to them talk, she wiped blood off her cheek with the back of her black glove. She brought her hand to her nose for a moment and inhaled.

She murmured, "Mm, I love that smell."

Nelor stopped mid-sentence. He asked, "What smell is that, Your Highness?"

She looked up then and answered innocently, "The blood of the vanquished." She brought her blood-soaked leather glove to her lips and swirled her tongue against it.

Kendall, who hardly ever smiled, broke a grin. He had grudgingly come to respect the queen tonight, and he hardly respected anyone.

Several men nearby laughed, unaware how dangerous she was in the throws of blood lust. They all thought she was joking, and her performance raised morale.

Somewhat invigorated, she stood up and turned from them then, saying only, "I need to kill again now." Her massive black sword appeared in her hand now.

"You are weary, Your Highness. You must rest," Nelor suggested quietly.

She ignored him, pretending not to have heard the suggestion. When she walked away, Nelor silently cocked his head toward Kendall. The knight understood and nodded grimly in assent. He moved slowly after her, keeping his distance.

As she walked toward the door she nearly walked into Geoffrey. Her eyes looked straight through him for a moment before fixing on his face. Contempt flashed on her countenance for an instant; it vanished when her gaze turned on his companion. A flicker of interest sparked in her eyes.

"Princess Ariel. I've heard so much about you," she said through a lethal smile.

Ariel stared back at Zyrdicia in wide-eyed wonder, her expression a mixture of horror and fascination. "Ooooh, likewise," she said, curtsying.

"Princess Ariel is my prisoner," Geoffrey announced loudly.

Ariel glared at him and thwacked him on the arm. She said, "You said you were just taking me out shopping for a while and then taking me home!"

"I lied!" He dropped the load of packages on the floor with a thud. He tried to shoot her a meaningful look.

Zyrdicia ordered, "Then use the secret passages and take your prisoner to your quarters and guard her there. She's a very valuable prisoner, Geoff."

"His quarters?" Ariel repeated. "Aren't you supposed to lock me in the dungeon or something?"

"As his prisoner, your housing arrangements are up to him. If he prefers you in the dungeon, that's his business, not mine."

"Oh," Ariel said, sounded vaguely intrigued.

"Geoffrey," Zyrdicia whispered, her eyes glazing over, "If you don't get yourself and your toy out of my way right now, I'll gut her. I'm going to kill within the next sixty seconds. It can be your prisoner, or it can be Greystone's troops in the North Wing."

Geoff jumped out of her way, tugging Ariel with him.

Ariel wondered, "But what about the stuff you just bought for me?" She reached her hand out toward the pile of packages as though to retrieve them.

Geoff pulled her so hard that he nearly dragged her off her feet. He hissed, "Later!"

25.10

In the North Wing, where the battle raged, the first southern invaders Zyrdicia encountered were dead before they even knew what hit them. The fighting was far more intense here than anywhere else in the castle. When the outnumbered palace guards saw her, they cheered.

Zyrdicia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was too weary to care whether they adored her or not right now. She just needed to kill. Exhausted beyond all comprehension, that need was the only thing that kept her moving.

In the next thirty minutes she killed another 208 invaders. She was no longer thinking consciously about it. It was an automatic, non-volitional activity. Her sword and her magic seemed to kill of their own accord. At this moment, she was nothing but a conduit for Hell's destructive power. As many as she killed, more seemed to throng around her. Her sword seemed to draw them in toward her, like flies to honey.

Somewhere in the background, she heard Eric Greystone's voice. He announced angrily, "It was a trap! We never should have used the demon's magic box!"

She heard a voice reply that had to have belonged to Vector, "You must get out of here, prince. We cannot take the castle with her here."

Eric answered, "I won't leave my men!"

"You have no choice. You must stay alive to fight another day. Otherwise your enemy wins," said Vector, grabbing the unwilling southern prince by the arm.

Zyrdicia turned to see the pair just in time to see them vanish. As she turned back to the few remaining desperate fools surrounding her in a misguided effort to swarm her. Before she could finish them off, the walls seemed suddenly to close in upon her. She felt peculiarly disconnected from her body. She willed her limbs to move, and they would not respond. The room swirled around her then, and she lost her bearings. She felt an unexpected painful sensation in her abdomen, like a knife wound. Suddenly afraid, she focused her entire being into willing a single thought: her attackers' deaths.

The magic exploded out of her, and she descended into darkness.