First real day of summer. By that I mean that it was the first day of the first full week of summer vacations. I made a checklist of things I wanted to get done each day. The foremost was to write five pages. Alas, I only wrote one. But that’s something right? Still, of the ten things to get done, I finished six of them. Not bad, all in all.
Yesterday’s chapter excerpt of The Voyage of the Minotaur is one of my favorite bits and is also a vital plot point of the Senta and the Steel Dragon series. It is, after all, when Senta meets Zurfina and the Steel Dragon. The relationship of these three characters is the main dynamic of books 1-5.
Senta turned around to look at a strangely dressed woman standing in the shadow of the building. The woman wore knee-high black leather boots and black leather pants. She had a red and black corset, cut low enough to expose a large star tattooed atop each bosom. Her arms and shoulders were bare, though she wore a spiked collar. Her short blond hair was formed into spikes, pointing in every direction, and made her look frightening—an effect enhanced by her black-lined eyes and deep red lips. The most remarkable thing about the woman though was the ring of sparkly, brightly colored, gem-like objects which floated around her head, making a circle about three feet in diameter, like a large rainbow-hued halo.
“What’s so special about that house?” the woman repeated. Her husky voice reminded Senta of Geert. She wondered if he, now living with that unknown distant relation, still went to the King’s warehouse for apples.
“I just like to watch it,” said Senta. “I like to watch the people there.”
“Mm-hmm. Me too.”
“Are those real diamonds?” asked Senta.
“Are what real diamonds?”
“Are those things floating around your head real diamonds?”
“There’s nothing floating around my head.”
“Uh-huh. I can see them.”
“What do you see?”
“I see those sparkly things. They’re like diamonds. There are red ones and blue ones and green ones and clear ones. And there’s one purple one.”
“My, my, my…little girl. You are an interesting one.”
“My name is Senta Bly.”
“Yes, I know. And you live with your Granny.”
“Granny’s dead.”
“Oh? I see,” said the woman. “So who do you live with now?”
“I live with the neighbor… Mrs. Gantonin.”
“None of the rest of your family took you in? And you’re still looking at the glamours.”
“What are they?”
“You’ve seen magic spells used before, haven’t you? Hedge wizards showing off in the park?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I am a sorceress. I can cast magic spells—spells more powerful than you can possibly imagine. I can also cast spells that will wait until I need them to take effect. That’s what you’re seeing—my spells which are waiting for me to activate them. Except you’re not supposed to see them. No one else does.”
“They’re pretty.”
The sorceress stepped forward and knelt down in front of Senta. She stuck out a finger and poked Senta on the nose.
“You’re pretty, too. Are you afraid of me? No… you’re not. You should be, but you’re not.”
“I’m not afraid of too much,” said Senta.
“That’s very good. That’s very good indeed. Because, you see, my little Senta, you are going to come and live with me. And if you are very good and do everything that I tell you, I am going to teach you things. Ponderous things.”
“I don’t know what that means,” said Senta.
“I know you don’t. My name is Zurfina the Magnificent.”
Zurfina stood up and took Senta by the hand and led her down the sidewalk, away from the palace where the woman who had once worn the white pin-striped dress lived. By the time she had taken her fourth step, Senta no longer wondered at the strange turn of events which had overtaken her. By the time she had taken her tenth step, she no longer thought of pulling her hand from the grip of the blond sorceress and running away. By the time she had taken her sixteenth step, it seemed to Senta as if she was exactly where she was supposed to be, walking down the street at the side of her mistress.
“Come along, Pet.”
Zurfina led Senta on a long walk through the city, finally turning south on Prince Tybalt Boulevard and passing Hexagon park. Throughout their trek, none of the many people on the street seemed to notice the strangely dressed woman leading a small child along by the hand. No one turned a head at all. Just past the park, they turned west on Prince Clitus Avenue and came to a small storefront. There was a sign above the door, but Senta couldn’t read it. It seemed to be written in a strange language. Zurfina opened the door and led her inside.
The shop contained counters and shelves filled with goods, though Senta couldn’t make out what they were. Several shopkeepers scurried about to help the half dozen customers making purchases. But something was very strange. The customers, the shopkeepers, the counters, and the shelves were all translucent, as if they were made of the same stuff as rainbows, gathered together and transformed into the semblance of people and things one would find in a city shop.
“What do you see?” asked Zurfina.
“I see ghosts.”
“They aren’t ghosts. They’re illusions. To everyone else, they seem real enough. To the people on the street, this shop is just one more emporium of useless mundania. No one ever questions it, and no one ever comes in.”
Zurfina, still holding Senta by the hand, walked through the shop, and through a doorway in the back, to a staircase leading upwards. At the top of the stairs was a landing and a door, but the sorceress continued up a second flight of stairs to the third floor, where the stairs ended in a blank wall. The sorceress waved her hand and a door appeared. She opened the door and led the girl in to a large and dark room, filled with all manner of strange things. More of the translucent people were moving about. Here they were packing away items in large black steamer trunks and stacking trunks into great piles. Unlike downstairs in the shop however, the steamer trunks and the items being placed within them were not, like the people, partially transparent. The items being packed and moved here were real, opaque, and completely solid.
The first thing that caught Senta’s eye in the room was the dragon. It was almost an exact replica of the dragon that sat in front of Café Carlo—about three feet long, with a wingspan of about four feet, sitting on a stone plinth. Instead of a burnished brass color, though, this dragon looked as though it were cast from steel. The effect was that this dragon looked far less lifelike than the brass one at the café. It looked far less lifelike until it moved. First it blinked its eyes, then it yawned, then it folded its wings and curled its neck up, exposing the underside of its chin. Zurfina rubbed the bottom of its long neck with her fingers, but when she pulled her hand away, it snapped at her with a mouth full of needle sharp teeth.
“Cheeky twonk!” said the sorceress.
By the time the Science Police arrived at the door, Steffie had come out of the shower in the other bathroom, Ruth had kicked off her boots and put her feet up, and Penny had assemble a huge burger from the tray sent up by room service. She had a separate platter of fries.
“You’re going to get fat,” said Steffie. “Fatter.”
“Don’t even start, you boney-assed bitch,” Penny replied.
Piffy got up and followed Alexa to the door. The two agents entered. They were both about six feet tall, lean and muscular, with close cropped hair, and sharp features. They wore dark suits and one had a small mustache. The one with the mustache spoke in a crisp, sharp soprano.
“I’m Agent Wright and this is Agent Andrews.”
When Alexa reached to shake Agent Wright’s hand, Ep!phanee automatically reached out to shake hands with Agent Andrews. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you,” said the agent.
Something suddenly rushed around in Piffy’s insides. Her skin felt hot and her breath caught in her throat. Other things were happening inside her too. It was as if some kind of chemical reaction had opened the floodgates that held back rivers of hormones.
“Holy shit,” she said. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. You’re a man.”
“That’s right.”
“No, I mean you’re a man– a real one.”
“Yes, I know.”
Agent Wright cast a sidelong glance at Agent Andrews, who returned the look with a shrug. Piffy looked at the former.
“Are you? No, I see you’re not.”
“Nice mustache though,” offered Alexa.
“Thank you. I made it with my own hair.”
“May we come in and talk with you?” asked Agent Andrews.
The other women, who had rushed over to see what Ep!phanee was so excited about, now were loath to move away from the door, each feeling something akin to what she had felt. Alexa finally had to physically push them aside so that the agents could lead them back to the living area where they all sat down near Steffie, the only one who had not rushed to the door.
“Where are you from?” Piffy asked Agent Andrews.
“Cape Horn enclave.”
“Aren’t you afraid of the disease?” asked Steffie.
“Are you married?” asked Ruth.
“We need to ask you the questions, I’m afraid,” said Agent Wright. “The NYPD has made a preliminary finding that it was a bomb on your dirigible that caused the explosion at LaGuardia. We have to assume that it was an attempt on your lives. That’s why we’re here.”
There was a steam carriage parked at the edge of the square, just next to the gate in the emergency wall. A woman in a bright blue dress with a large flower-covered hat sat at the steering wheel. From his angle, Staff couldn’t tell if it was Iolanthe or Yuah. Mother Linton stood at the side of the vehicle and carried on a conversation with the woman—whoever it was. Staff watched carefully, and though he couldn’t discern the identity of the driver, it became obvious that the discussion between her and the priest was becoming heated. He felt a jerk on his arm as Miss Rocanna stopped.
“I don’t care to be ignored.”
Images Copyright 2010 by Clipart.com
The iPad arrived today. I’m having a fine time playing with it. I plan to post a Youtube video of me reading one of my books from the iPad soon.
I bit the bullet and bought an iPad. When I say I bought it, I mean I ordered it, because they are sold out all over Nevada. I’ve never bought an Apple product before, not even an iPod. Not a big Apple fan. But if you’ve held one in your hands, you know. If you haven’t, try it…. unless you don’t want to want on, because I guarantee that if you hold one, you’ll want one.
“Zurfina, I presume,” said Iolanthe.
“Zurfina the Magnificent.” The woman had a husky voice that put Iolanthe in mind of a teen-aged boy.
“Am I supposed to call you Zurfina the Magnificent?” asked Iolanthe. “Do I say ‘good morning Zurfina the Magnificent’ or ‘meet me for tea, Zurfina the Magnificent’ or ‘look out for that falling boulder, Zurfina the Magnificent’?”
“You are of course quite right, Miss Iolanthe Dechantagne,” said the woman. “We shall be on a first name basis, Miss Iolanthe Dechantagne.”
Iolanthe heard a small sound coming from behind her and to her right and suspected that Yuah was suppressing a laugh, or perhaps, worse, a smirk. She didn’t turn to look at the dressing maid, just aimed evil thoughts in her direction.
“Show us some magic, then,” she said. “I feel the need to be impressed. I know my brother is already.”
Augie, who had been so engrossed in the woman’s posterior, that he had not even noticed that his sister had entered the room, suddenly startled to awareness and stood up straight. The blond woman favored him with a sly smile over her shoulder. Then she raised her arm out straight in front of her, palm down. Turning her hand over, a flame sprang up in her palm. Within two or three seconds, the flame had coalesced into a humanoid figure, eight or nine inches tall, which immediately began pirouetting and spinning in a miniature ballet, all without leaving Zurfina’s hand.
“That’s it?” asked Iolanthe. “That’s your great magic?”
“Well I thought it was smashing,” said Augie.
“You don’t like fire?” said Zurfina. “How about ice?”
The tiny figure turned from fire to ice, but continued dancing, breaking off little pieces of itself as it did so, to fall to the floor like tiny snowflakes. Iolanthe pursed her lips.
“My brothers and I are preparing to embark on a great expedition,” she said.
“I know all about it,” said the sorceress.
“Then you know I need a magic user with real power. Just dressing like a necromantic whore doesn’t make you a powerful witch.”
“Oh, you are so right,” said the sorceress. “Clothes do not make the woman.”
She waved her hands in front of her own body, and her clothing became an exact match for Iolanthe’s own evening gown, right down to the red and black trim.
“Or does it?” Zurfina said.
She waved her left hand in front of her face and it became an exact match of Iolanthe’s. She even had the red and white carnations atop her head. The false Iolanthe gave a very flouncy and very un-Iolanthe-like curtsy, then raised her chin and said in a very Iolanthe-like voice. “Yuah, fetch me a white wine!” Yuah took several steps forward before remembering herself and stopping.
“Outstanding!” shouted Augie, clapping his hands.
Iolanthe took a deep breath. “Not bad, I do admit. But show me something that I won’t see one of our journeyman wizards do.”
The sorceress pointed her arm at Yuah, fingers splayed. “Uuthanum uastus corakathum paj.” There was a grinding sound, as though someone were walking upon gravel, and suddenly Yuah froze in place. She, her grey and white dress, and everything else she wore had been turned into a stone statue. She looked like one of the apostles which lined the nave in the Great Church of the Holy Savior. It was as though Pallaton the Elder had been brought from his time into the present to capture the essence of a Zaeri dressing maid.
City of Amathar 