When I was writing The Young Sorceress, I needed a couple of young men to tag along with Senta.  I looked through the characters that I had appearing before and after and picked two mostly at random.  Since I had already written what happens to everyone for the rest of their lives, I knew that one of these two young men had a fairly important future.  It wasn’t until recently though, that I realized I was going to be writing it in The Sorceress and her Lovers.  Here are Benny, Shemar, and Senta in The Young Sorceress.

The small train, consisting only of a locomotive and a caboose, stopped at the end of the spur line and deposited its passengers—a blond teenage sorceress and two teenage boys carrying rifles.  The girl was dressed in black leather.  The two young men wore khaki explorer clothes and pith helmets.  All three had high boots, proof against the thick and thorny brush.  On the southeast edge of the great forest through which the train had journeyed, more than a hundred miles from Port Dechantagne, the landscape grew hilly and rugged.

“I really don’t think you two should be out here,” said Senta.  “I can do just fine on my own.”

“It’s not safe out here for you either,” replied Shemar Morris.  “I know you can do magic and all, but Graham says you were almost eaten by dinosaurs on a couple of occasions.”

“Let’s get going,” said Benny Markham, his eyes constantly scanning the area.  “I’m really of no mind to run into a tyrannosaurus.”

“Not likely to see one around here,” replied his friend, “at least according to Colonel Mormont.”

“That’s good.”

“Much more likely to run into a gorgosaurus.”

“Yeah?  What are they like?”

“They’re like short tyrannosauruses,” said Senta.

“That’s just ace.  How about we get a move on?  I’m getting paid a flat rate, not by the hour.”

Senta reached into the air just above her head and grabbed something floating there which only she could see.  It was a glamour—a spell stored for use at a later time.  The spell was scrying magic that would lead her hopefully to a large coal deposit.  The time to use the spell had come.  She crushed the gemlike object between her thumb and forefinger and watched as tiny sparkles spread through the air like fairy dust, gradually drifting into an arrow shape that pointed almost due west.

“This way,” she pronounced.

They crossed over a series of small hills which on their far side looked out over a vast open plain.  Hundreds of monstrous creatures roamed across it.  The vast majority of them were of a type that had the same basic shape as the iguanodons found near the coast, but were a solid deep brown in color and had very different forefeet.

“What does Mormont say about those?” asked Benny.

Shemar pulled out a small leather bound copy of the book that almost all Birmisian residents now carried.  He opened it and read.  “Gryposaurus.  Large herds, very fast, eats grass and shrubbery.”  He stuck the book back in his pocket.  “Bunch of triceratops over there.  Oh, and look.”

Four grey and green striped predators stalked along the edge of the massive herd.  They were very much the same shape as the tryrannosaurs known from the coast, though much shorter and with a lighter build.

“Let’s skirt over that way,” said Benny.  “I’ll feel better if we can keep those paralititans between us and the gorgosaurs.”

“They’re not paralititans.  They’re sauroposeidons.”

“Yeah, all right.  I see than now.  Let’s just keep moving.”

“So have you got a girlfriend yet, Shemar?” asked Senta.

“I’m keeping my options open.”

“He’s too afraid to ask a girl out,” said Benny, still watching the dinosaurs.

“I have my eye on a few.”

“Like who?” asked Senta.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just wondering.”

“I don’t want it getting around that I might be interested in one.  Then what if I wanted to ask a different one out?”

“Don’t worry,” said Senta.  “I don’t talk to any of those other girls anyway.”

“Well, I kind of like Gabby Bassett.  She has nice eyes.”

Just as he spoke, Shemar kicked a loose rock which went rolling downhill.  A two foot long rodent, heretofore unnoticed, jumped startled from its hiding place, and scurried across Benny’s boots, and then out of sight.  Benny jumped completely off the ground, landed off balance, and dropped his rifle.

“Kafira damn it!” he shouted.  “Can we pay attention to what we’re doing?”

“Uuthanum beithbechnoth!” shouted Senta, aiming her hand in the boy’s direction. 

A bolt of bright orange energy shot from her hand and just past his head, quickly followed by a second and a third.  Benny stood shaking where he was for a moment and then turned around.  Lying dead ten paces behind him was the body of a beautiful red feathered creature.  It was an achillobator, twenty feet long and weighing over a thousand pounds.  It was every inch as large and ferocious as the utahraptors they were all familiar with.

“Kafira Kristos,” Benny muttered, crossing himself.

“Dutty Speel is nice,” continued Shemar.  “But did you ever notice that her eyes are kind of spaced too far apart?”

(Spoiler Alert: I’m going to try not to, but be warned.)  Senta got her last name from turn of the century (the one before last) girl-reporter Nellie Bly.  So when I created this particular character for The Young Sorceress, I used the other half of Nellie Bly’s name as sort of an in joke, or hint.  It works perfectly, because Nellie Swenson is a girl-reporter.  The second half of her name is just pulled out of the air.  There is a major street near here named Swenson, and also a chain of ice-cream parlor’s called Swenson’s.  I used to take my kids there.  Anyway, I don’t know if I used the character to her full potential, but I had fun with her.  Here is her first appearance in The Young Sorceress.

“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind them. 

Graham and Senta turned to look into the freckled face of a young woman.  She had evidently just come off one of the ships in port.  She wore a long traveling coat over a white blouse and brown dress.  A brown bonnet held back bright red hair, a few strands of which escaped to hang down on the side of their face.  In her right hand she grasped the handle of a small carpet bag.

“Do either of you know your way around town,” asked the girl.

“Sure,” replied Graham.  “What are you looking for?”

“I don’t really know.  I’m new here.  I don’t have a place to stay yet and I’m not sure where I should go to find one.”

“I’ll help you.  I’m Graham Dokkins.”

“I’m Nellie Swenson, girl reporter.”

“Are you supposed to be famous or something?” asked Senta.

“I’m pretty well known back in Brech.  The Herald Sun is the most widely read news broadsheet, and I have a weekly column.”

“Who’s writing it now then?”

“Oh, I wrote enough extra columns to fill out a whole year, though I’m kind of sorry I’m not going to get to see the reaction to my story on orphanage abuses or the one detailing the stunt of my jumping from a dirigible.  I’m here to see Birmisia Colony and I’m keeping a journal of my adventure.  It should provide at least a year of new columns.”

“Come on, I’ll take you to the new arrivals bureau,” offered Graham.

“That would be lovely, but aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh, that’s just Senta.”  Then to Senta he said, “I’m going to help Nellie get situated.  I’ll see you later.”

The boy offered the new arrival his arm, which she took, and the two of them started up Seventh and One Half Avenue.  Senta’s eyes bored holes in their backs, and she absentmindedly punched her left palm with her right fist.

Pantagria is a character that I had a lot of fun writing in The Voyage of the Minotaur.  Then she didn’t appear again.  So when I got a chance to write her in The Young Sorceress, I was very pleased.  She’s showing up again in The Sorceress and her Lovers.

The idea for Pantagria comes from a story I wrote when I was in High School.  In that story, I had the same setting– the field of purple eyeball flowers– and the same kind of ethereal tone.  The genders were reverse though.  The person living in the field was a male and the visitor from the real world was female.  The character didn’t have a name then.  When I needed a magical setting for users of the magical drug to visit, I just pulled that setting and character out of the back of my brain.

Here is Pantagria with Yuah in The Young Sorceress.  I try to get at least one Shakespeare line somewhere in my stories.  This one is pretty easy to spot.

“Why are you here?”

On a large flat rock in the middle of an endless field of purple flowers, the two women faced each other.  They were both beautiful and they both stood naked beneath the warming rays of the noon day sun.  One was thin and pale, with dark hair and large expressive brown eyes.  The other was muscular, toned, and tan, her long blond hair cascaded down her shoulders, impossibly thick, almost to her waist; with wings that stretched twelve feet from tip to tip, covered in feathers as white as the clouds.

“Why are you here?” Pantagria repeated.

“I’m here because I’m ‘seeing’.”

“Then that brings us to an entirely different question.  Why are you seeing?”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t want Pantagruel.”

Yuah shivered at the memory.  “Who would want that monster?”

“He is what many women want.  He is who they come to see when they use the ‘see spice’.”

“How could anyone want that monster?”

“He is what your mind makes him.  In fact, he is a perfect reflection of what your mind makes him.  You see a monster.  Another woman sees a prince—a perfect prince.  But you didn’t come seeking perfection, did you?  You don’t even want perfection.  If you wanted perfection, you would have never wanted our Terrence, would you?”

“Don’t speak of him!”  Yuah’s hand became a claw with which she threatened to lash out.  “Don’t you dare say his name!”

 “I loved Terrence,” Pantagria hissed, her eyes taking an evil gleam.  “Forty thousand dressing maids with all their quantity of love could not equal my sum!”

“I am not a dressing maid.  I am Mrs. Terrence Lucius Virgil Dechantagne!  And you… You’re nothing!  Nothing!  You’re not even real!”  Yuah burst into a fit of tears.

Pantagria laughed in her face.

“You little fool.  He didn’t love you any more than he loved me.”

“You’re evil!” wailed Yuah.  “Why did you have to have him?  Why did you have to ruin him?  Why did you have to steal him away from me?”

“I didn’t go looking for him.  I couldn’t even if I wanted to.  He came to me.  He came to me just the way you have.”  Pantagria slowly circled the other woman.  “He came to me because he wanted something perfect.  It’s why all men come to me.  And it’s why women come to Pantagruel.  But not you.”  She stopped in front of Yuah.  “You don’t want either of us.  You don’t want something perfect.”

Yuah dropped her hands to her sides and sobbed uncontrollably.

“So, what do you want?”

“I don’t want… anything.”

“Then you have picked a particularly horrible way to commit suicide.”

Yuah’s shoulders shook.

“Stop your crying,” ordered Pantagria.  “Stop it!”

Grasping Yuah’s hair, Pantagria pulled her head up and slapped her across the face.

“Wake up.  Yuah wake up.”  Mrs. Colbshallow slapped Yuah gently across the cheek again.

Yuah struggled to lift her head and look around.  She was lying in the empty bath tub.  Her limbs were numb.

“I knew this tub was a bad idea,” said Mrs. Colbshallow.  “Cissy!  Get in here and bring a blanket! 

The reptilian arrived with a blanket, and wrapping it around Yuah, carried the woman upstairs to her bedroom.  Placing her on her bed, and throwing a quilt over her, Cissy crossed the room to the fireplace and struck a match, lighting the tinder that had already been arranged amid the kindling and fuel.  By the time she had turned around, Mrs. Colbshallow was handing Yuah a cup of steaming tea.

“What are you doing lying in the tub?” she asked.  “That room is too cold and you have a perfectly good bed right here.”

Yuah didn’t reply.  She simply sipped the tea, her eyes closed.