Iolana Staff appears as a baby in book 2 and a toddler in book 3.  In The Young Sorceress we get to see her as a precocious little girl.  As I was writing this, I was already thinking about what I was going to do with the character in the future, and indeed right now she is one of the main characters in The Sorceress and her Lovers.  In fact, in the first half of the book, she appears more than anyone else.  Here she is from book 4, getting little respect from her elders.

In the kitchen two more lizzies were cleaning but the crowd that she had expected was not there.  Just past the kitchen, Yuah almost ran into Mrs. Colbshallow.  The former cook now occupied a position in the household akin to a dear aunt.

“Shouldn’t they be preparing tea, Yadira?” she asked.

“It’s already on the table.  I was just about to summon everyone to the dining room.  How was your shopping trip?”

“Barely acceptable.”

Mrs. Colbshallow paused and peered over her glasses.  “Then I’m barely glad to hear it.”

Neither Iolanthe nor Radley were at home for tea.  Yuah had expected as much of course, since she had just seen the latter in town and seldom found the former at home during the day.  Mrs. Colbshallow was seated on one side of the table next to Iolanthe’s daughter Iolana.  Yuah, between her two children, sat opposite them.  Augie was now almost two and a half and had mastered the intricacies of family dining, though he had to sit on a stack of books to reach the table.  He looked so much like his father it made Yuah’s heart ache to look at him.

“Good afternoon Mama,” he said.  “Did you bring me a tin soldier?”

“Of course I did.  You may play with it after you eat.

“Mine?” asked Augie’s little sister Terra.

The girl was a less than a year younger than her brother.  She had a round little face framed by thick black hair and brown eyes.  She was unusually thin for a child her age.  This along with her pale skin and scratchy little voice made her mother constantly worried for her health, despite the best medical opinions which said she was completely fine.  She, like her brother, was quite advanced for her age.

“I brought you some blocks.”

The girl tipped her head back, opened her mouth, and shrieked.

“I want a soldier!”

“Girls don’t play with soldiers,” said Augie.

“I want a soldier!”

“No they don’t,” said Yuah, brushing the little girl’s hair.  “Boys play with soldiers because they grow up to be soldiers.”

 Terra shrieked again.

“What is it now?”

“I don’t want to be a block!”

“Quit crying!  You’re going to grow up to be a princess.”

“The warrior-priestesses of Ballar were soldiers,” offered Iolana from across the table.

“You be quiet,” snapped Yuah.  “I won’t have any of that nonsense in this house.  You’re five years old.  How come you talk like a college professor?  No man’s going to want to marry a know-it-all.”

Iolana slumped down in her chair.  Terra climbed out of her high-chair, still crying, and into the lap of the seventh diner, who was quietly sitting on the other side of her from Yuah.  Though many humans might not have been able to tell Cissy from the other lizzies in the Dechantagne home, she occupied a special place there.  She was slightly less than six feet in height, about average for members of her sex and species.  Her skin was smooth, without the mottling and scars of many of the reptilians.  Her face and the top of her head were a deep forest green which down her back, punctuated with darker stripes just below her shoulders.  Beneath her long powerful jaw, on her dewlap, and extending down her front, was a lighter, pale green.  Her chair had been modified so that she could sit without discomforting her long, powerful tail.  She reached out a scaly hand and picked up a cucumber sandwich, which she fed to the tiny human now curled up in her lap.  Terra was forced to stop crying to eat.

The main part of writing The Young Sorceress, was squeezing in some additional background on characters who appeared in The Two Dragons, which I had already written.  One of the main characters was completely different.  I already knew what I wanted to write for Book 6: The Sorceress and her Lovers, so I used the opportunity to build some background for a character who would play a big part in that book– Kieran Baxter.  Up to that point, he had only appeared as a very minor character in book 1.  Here he is in book 4.

Baxter was the latest of His Majesty’s ships to take this duty.  She was a battle sloop and though larger than wooden sailing ships of old bearing the same designation, she was one of the smaller vessels in the Royal Navy.  It was Baxter’s opinion that she was too small for her current assignment, though he would never have admitted such.  At 990 tons, she was just exactly 250 feet long and drew a beam of 36 feet.  With a single machinegun and no ship to ship weapons, she had to rely on her speed to get her 93 crewmen to safety—no match for a frigate and certainly not a cruiser.  Her three anti-airship guns could take on any dirigible, but while her two depth charge throwers and two torpedo tubes made her a menace to a submersible, Freedonian unterseeboots usually traveled in packs.

This day had been like every other one of the past three weeks.  The Snowflake had circled one of the smaller Mulliens, looking for any sign of Freedonian or Mirsannan influence and generally ignoring any ships from Enclep.  In this case there had been none.  There was nothing to distinguish this particular island from the hundreds of others in the area.  It didn’t even have a name on the charts.  It was large enough to have a couple of peaks, no doubt volcanic, though if they were active there was no sign of it.  Thick tropical forests grew right up the edge of the beach all the way around.  There was no sign of even the most rudimentary civilized life.  There was in fact no sign of human life what-so-ever.

Baxter stood along the aft railing and watched the sun dip below the waves.  He felt the comforting thrum of the twin steam turbines beneath his feet.  Relaxing here before retiring had become his nightly routine, something of which his steward was well aware.

“Tea Captain?” asked the sailor, holding a cup for him.

“Thank you.”  Baxter took a sip and sighed.

It was at that moment that he saw them and for a split second he thought they were simply the last bits of light reflecting off the waves.  They weren’t.  They were two torpedoes and they hit at almost the same instant not fifty feet forward from where he stood.  Suddenly he was flying through the air.  Then he was underwater, struggling to breathe.  Just as he reached the surface, something crashed into the waves two feet away, creating a huge splash.  Baxter turned in the water, looking for the Snowflake.  He found her just in time to see a tremendous blast rip the ship apart as the cold seawater hit the steaming boilers.

Baxter swam toward the ship, but it disappeared below the waves long before he was able to close half the distance.  As the thought that his first command was now gone registered in his brain, so for the first time did the fact that he himself was in serious trouble.  He was already exhausted and though he knew there was land close by, he had lost all sense of direction and no longer had the light in which to see it.  He was wearing his boots and they were filled with water, dragging him down.  He thought about removing them, but didn’t think he could stay afloat while he did so.  Debris was floating all around, but most of it was tiny.  He grabbed the first thing he saw floating that was larger than he was and pulled his body onto it, grinning mirthlessly when he realized it was part of a lifeboat.

Holding on for his life, Baxter spent the night being tossed about like a cork.  He was sure that he hadn’t fallen asleep.  He couldn’t have.  Yet sunrise appeared far sooner than it should have.  As it did so, it framed the shape of the island that Snowflake had circumnavigated the day before.  It looked less than a mile away.  There was nothing else to do but make for it.  Finally able to remove his boots, Baxter tied them by the shoelaces to the single metal cleat on the remains of the lifeboat.  Then lying on his stomach, he kicked with his feet toward land.

Hero is a character who is a lot of fun to write.  She remains pretty much normal– a dull brown next to Senta’s gold.  She doesn’t really have a story arc of her own, at least until book 5 (and beyond).  She’s there strictly in a supporting role.  Here she is doing just that in The Young Sorceress.

Hero had been Senta’s best friend for more than five years now.  While they had once been nearly the same height, Hero was now noticeably shorter than the young sorceress.  She was in fact, quite a bit shorter now than her own twin.  Other than height though, Hertzal and Hero looked very much alike.  They both had large expressive eyes.  They both had thick dark hair, Hero’s long and naturally curly, Hertzal’s short and razor cut above the ears.

“Senta!” squealed Hero, hopping two steps across the tiny room to give her friend a great hug.  “What are you doing here?”

Hertzal smiled happily.  He had never spoken as long as the sorceress had known him, but he had his own ways of making himself understood.

“I’m taking you all to dinner at Finkler’s.”

“We haven’t decided for sure…” started Honor.

“That’s ace,” said Hero.  “We could smell Mrs. Finkler’s stew all over the square.  Oh, here’s your thread, Honor.”

She handed her sister a small cloth bag.

“Well, I suppose I should get my shawl,” said Honor.  “You two bundle up.  It’s still warm out, but it will be quite cool when we come home.”

She cast an eye in Senta’s direction.

“This is surprisingly warm,” said the sorceress, gesturing to her own unusual clothing.

The four of them walked west down First Avenue toward the square.  The three teens carried on an animated conversation, oblivious to almost anything else.  The eldest of the group carried a kerosene lantern in one hand and a lizzie sword in one hand.  The flat weapon looked a lot like a cricket bat, but was encrusted around the edges with small, very sharp pieces of obsidian.

There was a short line at the bakery, as the eating establishment featured only seven tables, three on the inside, and four on the outside.  When Senta and her friends joined the queue though, it became much shorter.  They could hear several people whispering “the Drache Girl” as they suddenly decided to eat at either the new beanery or Café Ada.

“It seems like a lot of people are afraid of you,” said Hero to Senta, as they took one of the outdoor tables.

“Well, that’s just good sense,” Senta replied.

One person that was apparently not afraid was the waitress.

“Well, if it isn’t three of the four biggest trouble makers in town,” she said, setting down a pot of tea and four cups.  “Hello Honor.”

“Shouldn’t you be at home with your kids?” asked Senta.

Gaylene Finkler made a face.  She was the wife of restaurateur Aalwijn Finkler, not to mention sister of Senta’s boyfriend, Graham.  Though she was only seventeen, she was already the mother of two.  Her eyes looked tired as she ran a hand through her sandy hair. 

“I had to get out.  Ma is taking care of the kids.  Another five minutes in the house and I would have taken an axe to everyone in it, and that includes your boyfriend.”

“Maybe you should have a rest instead of working,” offered Honor.

“We’re short of help.  Besides, when I’m here I get a chance to waffle with my friends.”  She waved a hand to Dutty Speel at another table, and who waved back.  “So what do you want?”

“How about some lovely stew?” said Senta.

“Right.  Stew.  Fresh bread.  Relish platter.  Anything else?”

“How about four Billingbow’s?”

“Just water for me,” said Honor.

“Got it,” said Gaylene; then she was off.

“Say, is that Zurfina over there?” asked Hero.

Lovable police constable Eamon Shrubb returns in The Young Sorceress.  He makes a great side-kick for Saba Colbshallow, and is constantly needling him about his relationship with all the powerful women of the colony.  My favorite recurring line of his is “Violators call me Police Constable Shrubb.”  Here he uses it on Senta.

Senta stepped out of the store with the candy in one hand and the soda water in the other.  Turning to the right, she passed the dress shop, heading for the opening in the Emergency Wall.  She hadn’t gone too far when she practically walked into two young men.  They were both at least six feet tall and broad shouldered, and when they stood next to each other they completely blocked the entire walkway.  The young sorceress was momentarily startled.  She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had blocked her path.

“What have we here,” said one of the young men to the other.

He looked to be nearly twenty.  His hair was long and messy, but he was not bad looking otherwise.  His friend though had a nasty leer on his face that looked like it never went away—that and a red scar across his chin.  They were both well-muscled and wore the clothing of merchant seamen.  That explained a lot.

“Looks like a little bird got out of her nest.”

Senta stuck the end of the licorice into her mouth and yanked on it till a piece broke off.  The men didn’t seem to notice her nonchalance.

“Maybe she could show us what they do for fun in this God forsaken country,” continued the second man.  “Could you do that honey?  Could you show us some fun?”

Senta took another bite of licorice.

“You know it’s not even tea time, right?” she asked.  “Don’t hoodlums usually wait until nightfall before assaulting young women?  Aren’t you worried about the coppers getting after you?”

“I don’t see any coppers, do you?” asked the man.

“As a matter of fact, I do.  He’s right over there.”

The two men looked across the square and indeed a uniformed police constable was striding swiftly toward them.  He was much larger than even the sailors and he carried a heavy wooden truncheon in one hand.  The two men quickly stepped around Senta and disappeared down the alley between shops.

“Hello Eamon,” said Senta when Police Constable Shrubb stopped on the spot so recently vacated by the two hoodlums.

“Violators call me PC Shrubb.”

“What?”

“Miss Senta Bly, I have a warrant for your arrest.”

“You have a what now?”

“A warrant.  Mr. Eden Buttermore has sworn out a complaint against you for attacking him at the bakery café.”

“I didn’t do any such thing.”

“There are sworn statements from six witnesses.”

“Six, huh?”

“That’s right.  Now come along quietly lass, and I won’t have to put you in the cuffs.”

“Now Eamon, you know that if I wanted to attack someone, he’d be in no condition to swear out a complaint.”

She raised her hand and the constable stepped back, but the sorceress just took another bite of licorice.

“Well, let’s get going,” she said.  “I don’t want to spend all day at the police station.”

It was a twenty minute walk to the new police station and court house which sat alone in a forested lot just east of the train depot.  It had been built of sharp red brick almost two years before, with white stonework at the corners and above the windows and doors.  It was a square five story building.  On the arch above the door was carved in large letters “POLICE” and just below it, the police motto “punishment follows swift on guilt.”  The colony now boasted half a dozen police constables, but only one was present in the main office.  When Senta entered the front door just ahead of Eamon, the young PC jumped up, knocking his chair over.  The girl sat her empty soda bottle on the counter and smiled at him.

“Take it easy lad,” said Eamon.  “Just toss me the key.”

“Oh hey!  You’re not tossing me in the clinker!”

“Only until the Justice of the Peace can get here.”

“Um,” said the young constable.  “He’s already here.  He’s upstairs in his office.”

“Fine then.”  Eamon led the way to the elevator.