8.4

Zyrdicia walked slowly around the castle wall in the darkness. The wee hours of the night were her favorite time. Most of the world slept. The serene stillness of the night air at this hour was a perfect backdrop for devastation. She remembered reading once that most humans naturally die in the quiet hours between midnight and dawn. If this was true, Death shared her affinity for this time.

The wall would be easy enough to breech, but she wasn't sure that breaking through it with magic would be particularly useful. She realized intuitively that Dirk would eventually need the castle as a stronghold when the southerners mounted resistance. If she destroyed the walls, or leveled the castle altogether, it would lose its military value to him. Normally such concerns would never weigh into her decision-making process, but she really did wish him well in crushing what was left of Philonius Greystone's progeny after she departed from this land.

She transported herself into the great hall of Castle Tronin invisibly. The few people who were awake looked terribly tired. The Death Spores had already begun to work their way into the population. The few hours that had passed since her last visit had been ample time for the illness to find its first prey.

By morning, those first infected would begin to show obvious signs of sickness: a slight fever, generalized aches, cough, and numbing fatigue. They would think it was the flu initially. By midday, however, the fever would explode. Their glands would swell and fill with fluid. By this time, the disease would already be on its way to their vital organs. The lungs, kidneys and liver would gradually putrefy and shut down over the final twelve hours of the disease. Within thirty-six to forty-eight hours of exposure, the first victims would already be on their death beds. Few would recover. They lacked any natural immune defense against such a disease.

From this moment, every infected cough and sneeze transmitted the pestilence to someone else. The disease would burn through the castle's population so quickly that within a week, there would not be a single host left to sustain the virulent organism. Without a host, it would disappear into oblivion in this place. But it would soon flare up in Baaldorf, as tonight's messengers carried it with them to fresh victims. Those messengers would arrive sick and spewing more of the illness. There, it would spread out from the Castle Baaldorf into the general citizenry. Village after village would be annihilated in brief, ravaging flare-ups. Long after Zyrdicia left, her destructive fingerprints would remain upon the face of Aparans.

Zyrdicia loved watching plague ravage a population. She was naturally immune to disease, but she had a profound respect for the tiny, unseen organism which could devastate masses of higher life forms. Its ability to replicate its lethal power infinitely within a species reminded her of the Twilight Prophecy. The principle was inherently Zyrian. Small things echoed greater things in the destruction of the web of life.

A palace guard stationed near the entrance to the great hall shivered, despite the warm summer air. Zyrdicia stared unseen at him. He looked as though he might fall asleep on his feet. She called her dagger and slit his throat in a quick, slashing motion, thereby sparing him the slow, lingering death that would otherwise have been his fate. There was nothing merciful about her act. Every drop of blood spurting out of the corpse was a new source of infection.

The hall suddenly came alive with activity. People searched in vain for the murderer. Panic raced through the place as a rumor started that Blackpool's assassins had infiltrated the castle. Then they started cleaning up the mess. Zyrdicia watched in fascinated silence as they flung blood-soaked rags about. Soldiers tromped through the gore, tracking the contagion to other parts of the castle. Each drop potentially meant death for anyone who came in contact with it.

The young king entered the hall from the opposite end. He had obviously just jumped out of bed. His short, brown hair was a mess and his clothes were rumpled. Even in his sleepy state, he looked upset, even terrified, by the bloodshed in his house. He barked ineffective orders to search for the culprit before returning to his chamber to dress more properly. Zyrdicia followed him silently.

When he was alone, she crept up on him just as she had with Traquil. Her hunting technique was well practiced. Magnus was the only mortal she had found who routinely sensed her presence when she approached surreptitiously. His senses were unusually honed by his professional skill. There was a reason he had a reputation as the greatest assassin Lyr had ever produced. This king had no such talent.

She moved quickly against him. A single Tenaebran syllable froze the man in place. She grabbed his immobile body and transported it into a magical holding cell in extra-dimensional space. She dumped him there, knowing that she would have to quarantine him for at least twelve hours to see if he were infected. Handing him over to Blackpool now would risk infecting the northern army, not to mention the prince, with the disease. She understood the value of the pestilence well enough to be careful in handling it. The king would have to wait in the magical prison for now.

There was still time before the sun rose. The castle's destruction was sealed, and its leader captured. Yet the night still beckoned. She had no desire to return to the encampment. If Dirk was awake, he would undoubtedly find some reason to talk to her and she didn't want to have any more conversations with him right now. She preferred to avoid him.

The attraction fundamentally unnerved her. She was never attracted to mortal men. It just didn't happen. She toyed with them. She used them. She kept a few as friends. She had never imagined it was even possible under the Edict. Everything about it bothered her. She was certain it was somehow due to the intensity of Azriok's visit. It was one more reason to be angry at the dark angel right now.

She thought a moment, considering how best to fill the last hours of darkness. An idea blossomed in her mind like a vindictive epiphany. She had one debt yet to pay in Aparans.

8.5

Portia left the tent shortly after sunrise in search of Zyrdicia. That Zyrdicia would have found a way to amuse herself for so long was not surprising in itself. It was just strange that the sun was up and she was nowhere to be found. Zyrdicia hated seeing the sun come up. In fact, she simply hated the sun. Zyrdicia had been in an odd mood when she had left for the walk. Portia knew she was disturbed by encounter with Blackpool.

Portia saw the prince at a distance inspecting the troops as he often did at this hour. Zyrdicia was not with him. Portia tried repeatedly contacting Zyrdicia telepathically and was unable to reach her. That, more than anything, caused her to worry.

"Hello, Portia! Good morning!" Geoffrey chirped behind her, startling her.

"Oh. Hi, sweetie. Have you seen Zyrdicia?"

"No. Why?"

"I don't know. Be a dear and tell your brother I need to talk to him. I don't want to interrupt him in front of the troops."

"He gets mad when he's interrupted."

"Geoff, it's important. Please?"

"What's important?" he asked, confused.

"Just tell him I need to talk to him. I'll wait right here, OK?"

Geoffrey returned a moment later with his elder brother. Portia didn't pause for pleasantries. "Did Zyrdicia tell you where she was going last night?"

Dirk looked confused. "I wasn't aware she left."

"Nevermind then. I'm sorry I bothered you." Portia turned to walk away.

"Stop!" The prince ordered. "Why are you so eager to find her?"

"I saw her right after she talked to you, around midnight. And then she went for a walk and didn't come back. Being out after sunrise is entirely unlike her."

"Are you afraid that something's happened to her?" he asked, alarmed.

"There would have to be a really compelling reason for her to stay out in the daylight, and I can't think of any. She isn't responding to the mind speech from me. She always responds to me, even when she's in other dimensions. I'm going to go check at home and in Lyr to see if she returned there."

Portia was worried. At another time, Zyrdicia's disappearances would not have given her any particular cause for concern. There was far too much oddity in Zyrdicia's world right now, though - the inexplicable behavior by her father, the terrifying encounter with Azriok, and now the unheard-of attraction to a mortal. Unexpected disappearances added a new layer of anxiety.

Portia's demeanor affected the prince. "If you find her, you are to notify me immediately!" His concern would only deepen as he discovered that he too was unable to get a response from Zyrdicia using the mind speech. No guard had seen her on her walk. It was as though she had vanished, which wasn't surprising given her magical abilities.

Dirk concentrated on the monocle. Sometimes he was able to use it as Vector did the viewscope, watching people from afar. His success with it was haphazard at best. The green glow of the monocle faded to black. Inside the magical glass, he saw only pure, uninterrupted darkness.