8.10

Inside Zyrdicia's magical chambers, Portia saw the empty wine bottle and two goblets abandoned near the couch and wondered if the fight had turned into something else. She dropped a heavy satchel of documents she had brought back - Detlev, the Overlord of the Dark Elves, sent a small mountain of paper for Zyrdicia. His historians had hit a veritable motherload of information relating to ancient Aparans. Records ceased twenty-five hundred years ago.

The dark elf had been very edgy when he gave Portia the documents. He was adamant that no one else see them. He demanded that Zyrdicia come speak with him immediately. He pressed Portia for information as to whether this place still existed. Portia had feigned ignorance, claiming Zyrdicia had probably found a story about such a land in a book somewhere.

Detlev's elfin documents were indecipherable to Portia. It might as well have been written in code. She disliked Detlev and the elves for reasons she couldn't properly articulate. They were secretive and manipulative. Their hissing, whispering speech in the caverns gave her the shivers. It was part of Zyrdicia's world she preferred to keep at a distance.

She had left Geoffrey with Anthony during the time she was below ground with the elves. Anthony gave him a brief tour of the Old City, and Geoffrey professed it was the most glorious city he had ever seen. When she rejoined them, they took him to the Red Zone to meet Kaz at the Cauldron. Geoffrey's eyes were like saucers. It was unlike any tavern he had ever seen. A constant stream of people at the Cauldron stopped to ask about Zyrdicia. Geoff was amazed how Portia and Anthony seemed to know everybody. They had a hard time getting him to leave.

Seeing the gold from the slave sale only amplified Geoffrey's astonishment. He was a prince accustomed to wealth, but seeing such a massive pile of gold had a visceral effect nonetheless. Cai's jaw dropped at the sight of it in the Blackpool treasury. Geoffrey could not stop babbling about how brilliant Dirk was to have accomplished this. Portia kept her commentary about the source of the brilliance to herself. The prince had served his purpose. She wanted some trusted associate of the elder Blackpool's to witness the transfer in order to assuage any possible suspicion the paranoid ruler might have.

In the command tent, Zyrdicia slept deeply on Dirk's bed. The documents had been completed an hour ago, shortly before midnight. He was reluctant to wake her. Now that he knew how dangerous her dreams were, he rather enjoyed the power he had over her. Isolating her, trapping her alone with her dreams would be an amazing way to torment her, should the need ever arise.

He knew that she needed another soul nearby to ward the demons off. He wondered, however, just how near that soul had to be. Letting the demons terrify her a bit would serve his purposes wonderfully. He sent the guards outside. He then went to the tent's opening and stood in it, watching her facial expression carefully. Then he moved a few steps outside the tent, still watching.

Within seconds her facial expression changed. Her brow furrowed. She mumbled something. In contrast to her usual corpse-like stillness when she slept, she began tossing and turning. He observed her carefully, pleased at the result. She was his toy.

He let her suffer for a few minutes, then returned to the tent and sat on the edge of the bed. His return did not redeposit her in a state of peaceful repose. Her anxiety seemed undiminished. He shook her gently, trying to wake her. Just as before when he had found her screaming, it had no effect. It only seemed to deepen her anxiety. Retrieving her from the dreamworld required a concerted effort. When he finally succeeded, the vulnerability he saw in her eyes was precisely the end he had sought.

"I was at the doorway speaking to the guards when I saw you were having another nightmare," he lied. His arms still held her shoulders where he had been shaking her. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head. The darkness of her expression hinted at profound suffering. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, knowing he would draw her close to him. "I hate him," she whispered. "Now you've rescued me twice."

"I'm glad that I could," he answered in a silken tone, stroking her soft, ebony hair. He suspected it would be remarkably easy to seduce her in such a state.

He was not about to relinquish his control of her destructive powers before all of Camarand was his. Her threat to leave at sunrise had made clear that he needed a way to bind her to him. Seduction was the most effective method he knew to accomplish that. In his mind, the manipulative purpose justified his physical desire.

When he looked into the beautiful violet depths of her eyes, he was certain that her coquettish games were the last thing on her mind. The angelic innocence in her eyes almost seemed to defy corruption. Fragile and vulnerable, she was the diametric opposite of the vicious, brazen creature she normally affected. He fully intended to prey on that vulnerability.

He moved to kiss her. This time she did not turn away from him. A moment before their lips touched, however, Portia and Geoffrey barged noisily into the tent unannounced. Dirk turned and glared at them fiercely. Once again, the kiss was foiled.