Saba Colbshallow stirred a spoonful of sugar into his tea as he bent his head over the Birmisia Gazette.  The paper was dated the previous day—Octuary 15th.  The headline read Velociraptor Bounty Announced.  Saba didn’t give a fig about velociraptors or any bounty on them. It had been fourteen days, two weeks, and nothing—no message, no invitation, no visit.  He scooped another spoonful of sugar and stirred his cup.

“Isn’t that enough sugar, dear?” asked his wife from across the table.

He glanced up at her with his eyes, his head still bent over the table.  She blanched.

“If you want something sweet, we have some strawberry jam in the froredor,” said his mother.  “You could have some on your scones.”

“No thank you, Mother.”

He flipped the paper over.  There was nothing that interested him—council meetings, a fire, traffic, crime, building projects.  At the bottom of the second page were three advertisements, side by side—ladies’ hats, Major Frisbee’s chutney, and Café Etta.  He pushed his chair back and stood up, walking away from the table without a word and having not touched his sugary tea.  No one spoke as he left the dining room, but when he was halfway across the kitchen, he heard a small voice calling after him.

“Daddy?”

Stopping, he turned around and looked at his daughter.  She wore a red and white striped dress that made her look like a miniature version of her mother.

“What is it, DeeDee?”

“Are you angry at Nan?”

“No dear, I’m not angry with your nan.”

“Are you angry at me?”

With a sigh, he knelt down so that he could look her in the face.

“No, I’m not angry with you.  You’re my good girl.”

“Mummy’s a good girl too.”

“Yes, Mummy is a good girl too.  Are you going to your lessons across the street today?”

“Uh-huh.  I’m going to learn to read today.  Iolana has a book about a pig that doesn’t like to get dirty.”

“Well, that sounds a lovely book.  When you’ve learned to read, you can read it to me.”

“Tonight?”

“You think you’ll have learned how to read in one day?”

She nodded her head earnestly.

“All right, then one of us will read to the other tonight.  Now, Daddy has to go to work.”

The little girl nodded once again and then turned back to the dining room. Saba stood up, crossed the kitchen, and was out the door.  He climbed into the car, which the lizzies had already started up and a minute later he was cruising down First Avenue.

When he got to work, he went directly up to his office without stopping to talk to the constables at the desk.  He buried himself in paperwork and didn’t look up until his stomach growled. Checking the clock, he saw that it was almost 1:00.  As he stepped out his door, he ran into Justice of the Peace Lon Fonstan.

“Good afternoon, Chief Inspector.”

“Judge.”

“I wanted to speak to you.”

“What about?” wondered Saba with a frown.

“The benefit.”

“The what?”

“The benefit for the Police Constables Widows and Orphans Fund.”

“Yes, what about it?”

“I just wanted to let you know that we have Colonial Hall for Novuary sixth. It should be quite an event with you and your lovely wife hosting.”

“Yes, well.”  Saba looked at the man for a moment.  “All right then.”

Leaving the justice of the peace where he stood, Saba took the elevator downstairs.  He started past the desk and just happened to look up into Eamon Shrubb’s face.  Eamon paused amid filling out several forms in front of him.  He wore his police sergeant’s uniform.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m filling out forms.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” said Eamon.

“Why are you in uniform?  And it’s the wrong rank.”

“No.  Dot and I decided that being an inspector wasn’t right for me.”

“What the hell does Dot have against it?  It’s better money and better hours.”

“Actually, it’s not Dot.  It’s me. I don’t think I care to be an inspector. There’s nothing wrong with it, mind. It’s just not for me.”

“Fine,” said Saba.  “Stay here and fill out your paperwork then.”

Stepping out the front door and down the walk, Saba made for his steam carriage parked, along with several dozen other vehicles, in the vacant lot next door.  Just before he reached it, he stopped to think.  He was hungry, but he couldn’t decide if he wanted to drive to the bakery or turn the other way around and walk to the beanery.  He thought he might treat himself at Café Ada, but decided he didn’t want to waste the money.  Finally, he turned and crossed the street, heading for the Gurrman Building.

Just outside the large stone edifice, which was the headquarters for the colonial government, was a fish and chips kiosk.  Shortly after his arrival in Birmisia Colony, Landon Kordeshack had begun selling his battered fish and golden chips at the shipyard.  He still plied his trade there, but had expanded the business.  The eldest Kordeshack son Talen now ran a kiosk at the train station and younger son Taber ran one here in the center of the government district.  Saba stepped into the queue and waited for his turn.

“Xiphactinus,” he said when he reached the front.

“Chips with that, Chief Inspector?”

“That has to be the stupidest question of the day.”

“So, what’s for breakfast?” asked Senta, strolling into the Dechantagne Staff dining room.  The governor was present as were the three household children, but Mr. Staff and Mrs. Dechantagne were not.

“What are you doing here?” asked the Iolanthe.

“Oh, I invited her to breakfast,” said Iolana.

“Are we going to see you every day now?” asked Augusts Dechantagne.  “I don’t mind, but you didn’t show us any magic tricks yesterday and I really think you ought to.”

“I’ve already made your lizzies disappear.”

They looked around and sure enough, all of the household servants seemed to have found some other place to be.

“They weren’t done serving my eggs,” he complained.

“Allow me,” said Senta.  “Uuthanum.”

Platters of food flew in through the doorway from the kitchen and circled the table.  As they did so, serving spoons flew up to intercept them and dish out their contents onto the diners’ plates.  When all had been served eggs, white sausages, fried potatoes, and bacon, the flying dinnerware returned to the kitchen.

“That was ace,” said the boy with approval.

“I don’t suppose it’s as impressive as turning your mother to stone…”

“I heard about that,” said Iolana.  “It didn’t really happen, did it?”

“It wasn’t me and I wasn’t there to see it.  You’ll have to ask your mother.”

Iolana looked at her mother, whose fork stopped just before reaching her mouth.

“Yes.  Zurfina did turn your Auntie to stone.  It was very upsetting, too.”

Senta ate from her own plate that had been filled along with the others.

“So, what have we all been up to this morning?

“I’ve been working on my bug collection,” said Augie.  “Iolana’s just been reading.”

“She does that all the time,” said Terra.

“And you don’t like to read?”

“I will when I get bigger.”

“Speaking of reading,” said the sorceress.  “I read some of your poetry, Iolana.”

“It’s not very good,” said the girl.  “I’m sure there won’t be a second printing.”

“I thought it was some of the best poetry I’ve ever read.”

“Well, thank you,” Iolana said, brightening.  Then she narrowed her eyes.  “Just how much poetry have you read?”

“Yours may have been the first.”

Iolanthe took a sip of her tea and then stood up.  A lizzie practically flew from the other room to pull out her chair. “I need to get to the office.  Did you want to see me about something?”

“Not at all.”

The governor looked momentarily startled.  “Well, then.  Good day.”

Senta talked pleasantly with the children as they all finished their breakfast. She told them about Bangdorf and Brech City and listened as they recounted their activities and stories of their friends.  When they had finished the food and were still sipping tea, Augie brought up a topic that had clearly been simmering in his brain for some time.

“What did it feel like to get shot?”

“Painful,” Senta replied.  “All in all, I don’t recommend it, if it can be avoided.”

The boy stared into his cup.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m sure I’ll have to take a military post.  All the Dechantagne men do.  I’m not too keen on getting shot, but I guess if you can stand it, I can.”

“If you’re in a colonial regiment, you’re more likely to get eaten by a dinosaur than shot,” said Senta.

“That doesn’t sound any better,” said the boy.  “I don’t guess I’d mind getting eaten if I was already dead, but they figure poor Warren was probably still alive while he was getting eaten.”

“Stop it!” yelled Iolana.  “Stop talking about it.  It’s horrible.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t horrible,” he replied.

“You know I was almost eaten by velociraptors when I was nine,” said Senta. “Your father saved me, Augie.”

“Really?  I never heard that story.”

“Yes.  I got off in the woods chasing after Bessemer.  It was woods then.  I guess it was about the corner of Bainbridge Clark Street and Fourth Avenue now.  I wasn’t watching what I was doing and they surrounded me.  One of them actually jumped up on me.  Then your father showed up and shot them all, quick as a biscuit.”

“Was he nice?” asked Terra.  “He doesn’t look nice in his picture and I can’t remember him.”

“He died before you were born,” said Iolana.

“That’s why I can’t remember him.”

“He was always very nice to me,” said Senta.  “He was very handsome too.  He was sort of like Mr. Baxter, only without the red hair.”

“So what are your plans for today, children?”

“Iolana has to teach us writing today,” said Terra.  “Only DeeDee isn’t coming over because of her mother.”

“DeeDee?”

“Chief Inspector Colbshallow’s daughter,” offered Iolana.  “She, her mother, and her grandmother have gone visiting today.”

“Well, I’m sorry to tell you, Augie, Terra, but Iolana will have to cancel your class today.  She has important business with me.”

“Yes!” cried Augie.  “I’m going to go get Claude and Julius.”

“What am I going to do?” asked his sister.

“You’ll come too,” he said, after a moment’s thought.  “You can be the princess and we’ll be your soldiers.”

“Take Esther with you,” said Iolana.  “She’ll see that Terra stays safe, no matter what.”

“Esther?” wondered Senta.

Iolana had been watching the post eagerly for five days.  She wasn’t sure how long it would take for a response to her letter.  She wasn’t even sure how long it would take for her letter to reach its intended recipient. But no answer arrived.  So she was waiting eagerly when Kayden brought the morning post in on a silver tray and set it on the occasional table in the foyer. Among the twenty-three pieces of mail was a large rose-colored envelope addressed to Mr. and Governor Staff and Miss Iolana Staff.  There was a similar one addressed to Mrs. Yuah Dechantagne, Master Augustus Dechantagne, and Miss Terra Dechantagne.

Picking up the silver letter opener from beside the tray, she sliced open the envelope with her name on it.  She pulled out a beautifully engrave invitation.  “You are invited for tea at the home of Miss Senta Bly, 2:00 PM, Octuary 7, 1907.”  This was interesting.  She hadn’t even realized that the Drache Girl had returned to Port Dechantagne.  Only yesterday she had been reading in the Birmisia Gazette that Senta had been shot in Mallontah.  She slipped the invitation back into the enveloped and placed it with the rest of the mail.

Making her way back to the library, she took Curse of the Cloud Women, the Rikkard Banks Tatum book that she had both started and finished that morning, and returned it to its crate. She had just picked up the morning Gazette, when Kayden stepped silently into the room, carrying a silver tray with another piece of mail upon it.

“Was this in the morning post?” asked Iolana.  “I’ve already gone through it.”

“Special delivery.”  Kayden still had problems with his Ps and his Vs, but by deemphasizing them, he almost was able to match human speech.

Taking the gold envelope and the opener from the tray, she had sliced it open before remembering to see to whom it was addressed.  Miss Iolana L.D. Staff.”

“Hmm,” she said, opening what turned out to be another invitation.  “I apologize profusely for the lateness of this request, but I would greatly appreciate if you could join our luncheon today at 11:30.  Due to time restrictions, no R.S.V.P. is required.  Your dearest friend, Sherree Glieberman.”

“My dearest friend?” thought Iolana aloud.  “If I were in hell.”

“What’s that, dear?”  Auntie Yuah walked into the room as the eleven-year-old waved the lizzie major-domo out.

“I have to get ready for a luncheon date,” said Iolana.  “I’ve been invited to the Glieberman’s.”

“Didn’t you say the girl was a twat?”

“I’m sure I didn’t use that term.”

Her aunt shrugged.

“There’s an invitation for you with the mail,” said Iolana.  “Tea with the Drache Girl it seems.”

“Really?” exclaimed Yuah, turning and heading for the foyer.

Iolana took the back hallway and the narrow back stairs up to the second floor and stepped into her room to change.  She expected to find Esther lying on the floor, but the lizzie was not present.  Stepping back out, she walked up past the balcony to the nursery where she found her playing the Birmisia block game with Terra.

“I need Esther for a minute,” she told her cousin.  “You can have her back after I get dressed.”

“Don’t bother,” said Terra.  “I don’t want to play anymore.  She keeps beating me.”

Back in her room, Iolana chose a pink skirt and a white blouse, which she paired with a pink bowtie.  She wasn’t sure who else would be there—she couldn’t imagine Sherree inviting only her—but it would be a sure thing that there would no Zaeri.  She wouldn’t need to worry about outshining anyone.  This reminded her that she should have Willa over to visit some time.  Placing her red boater on her head, she started off.

“You can stay in here if you’re done playing with Terra,” she told Esther as she went out the door.

She found Walworth downstairs in the kitchen, not unexpectedly eating a sandwich.

“What is it my father pays you for, Wally?”

“Huh?  He, um… for driving.”

“Well then, fancy driving me to the Glieberman House?”

“That’s what they pay me… oh, yeah.”

It took Wally almost fifteen minutes to get the steam carriage warmed up enough to set out, and took less than ten minutes to reach Iolana’s destination. The Gliebermans had recently moved into the same affluent neighborhood that the Staffs had always lived in. Their new house was several blocks south on Imperial Avenue.  Iolana could have probably walked there in five minutes, but that would have meant crossing several vacant lots in between.  Though the mud had dried up in the summer, the untamed areas within the city were filled with sticker bushes, and sometimes velociraptors.

The Gliebermans’ home was very much in the Freedonian style with square columns and square porches on both levels of the two-story home.  The upper porch was enclosed with wire screening and porch swings, along with some iron chairs were featured in both locations.  To Iolana’s mind it looked pretentious and grandiose.  She sent Wally on home and walked up the steps.

The lizzie butler showed her in to the parlor which the Gliebermans insisted on calling the drawing room.  Five girls waited sitting in chairs that had been arranged into a half circle. Sherree was in the center, with her perpetual shadow Talli Archer to her right.  The others were all girls from their group: Najwa Melroy, Mona Stephenson, and Tildy Wolfsohn.  Talli and Najwa were both patting Sherree on the shoulder while she cried into a handkerchief.

“What’s going on?” asked Iolana, taking an empty chair.

“Walter has thrown Sherree over,” said Talli.

“Oh, well maybe he’s just upset about his brother and all.”

“No, he’s already taken up with that horrible Wenda Lanier.”

“I would have thought she was out of his league,” said Iolana.

“What do you mean?” demanded Sherree, her giant eyes glaring.  “She’s not nearly good enough for him.”

“Oh, well, um… what I mean…” Iolana’s voice just sort of trailed off.  She really had no idea what to say.

“Are you going to kick me out again at teatime?” asked Baxter, folding his arms and looking down at Senta.

She was reclining across a Mirsannan divan.  She wore a long, flowing silk gown that completely covered her charms, though on the wall directly above her was a photograph of her and her mother reclining on the same piece of furniture—both nude.  She reached up to rub her long, exposed neck. Then she ran her hand over her head, her blond tresses about the same length as his own red hair.

“Of course not,” she smiled.  “I want you to be here.  These girls today are my oldest and dearest friends and they’ll want to see you. Afterwards you can run along so that they can all tell me how jealous they are.”

“What about yesterday?”

“That was different.  It was more of an obligation.  I know that Graham’s sister will see me with you sooner or later, but I didn’t want to throw it in her face the moment I got back.”

“It’s been a long time,” he said.  “He’s been gone a long time.”

“Almost four years, but when I see Gaylene, it’s like it was yesterday.  Not like now—now it feels like it was eons ago. It’s a kind of magic, you know.”

“So I’m invited?”

“You’re more than invited.  How did they say it when you were in the navy?  You’re requested and required.  You can skip out tomorrow if you like.  The same girls will be back again, along with some others.  But you have to be here the day after.  The governor and her family are coming.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes.  You’re living in sin with a very important mucky-muck.”

“Should I dress?” he asked.

“We always dress for tea in this house—unless we don’t.”

He stared at her for a moment, and then shrugged his shoulders and left the room. Senta knew he was going upstairs to dress.  He had been given over for his own use one of the thirty rooms in the three-story mansion, but he had spent both nights in Senta’s bed.  Looking up at the clock, she decided that she should dress too.

Climbing the stairs still causes a pain in her chest where she had been shot, but it was the only time now that she thought about it.  At the top of the sweeping staircase, she waved her hand, magically summoning her lizzie dressing maid.  The deep olive reptilian appeared from a room at the end of the hall and met her as she stepped into her boudoir.

One of only three servants in the house as of yet, Aggie was new.  Cheery the butler, and Thonass the maid had worked for Senta for years and had taken care of the house while she was away. Thonass had given Aggie the recommendation.  They were from the same family—or what passed for family among the lizzies.

“Something pretty today,” she told the reptilian.  “Bring me my yellow and white striped day dress.”

“Yess.”

The dress was a traditional one.  Cut for a medium-sized bustle, the skirt was vertically lined with broad yellow and white stripes while the bodice was a solid yellow with puffy frills of lace around the high neck and at the end of each long sleeve.  She topped off the ensemble with yellow emeralds dangling from her pierced ears.  She slipped a ring on her right hand that featured a yellow garnet.  It was practically worthless, but she had purchased it in Bangdorf because she thought it was pretty.

“Nice,” said the dressing maid.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” said Baxter, stepping into the room. He was sharp in his grey suit.  He was always sharp.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said with a curtsey.  “Shall we go down?”

Suddenly the baby began fussing from her crib in the next room.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” said Baxter, following her cries.

“Hmm,” she murmured, observing him.  Then she turned to the dressing maid.  “I’m going down to set up.  Tell Thonass to find me.”

In the dining room, Senta found the table set with the everyday china, but the food for the afternoon tea filled several wooden crates stacked nearby.  Having no one to cook and no one really to serve, she had ordered the tea catered from Café Etta.

“Uuthanum,” she said and the food began flying out of the crates, soaring around the room, and landing on the appropriate plates and serving platters. A spice cake was coming into a landing in the center of the table with Thonass stepped into the room.

“Take this envelope,” said Senta, retrieving the stated item from the lamp table along the wall.  “Deliver it to the employment agency at the Department of Lizzie Affairs.  It is a list of the other servants I shall need.”

“Yess,” said the lizzie.

As Thonass was going out, Cheery was coming in.

“Guests,” he said.

“Bring them on into the dining room please.”

The reptilian stepped out and came back a few seconds later leading three young women.

“Senta!” squealed Hero Markham, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around the sorceress’s waist.  “I’ve missed you so much!  Look at your hair.  You look like a boy.”

“Well it’s good to be appreciated.  You look wonderful.  How’s the baby?”

“Brilliant.”

“She’s beautiful too,” said Gabrielle Bassett from behind Hero.  She looks just like her mother.

Taller than Hero, though still shorter than Senta, Gabrielle was radiantly beautiful with sparkling blue eyes and ash brown hair.  Behind her stood the third young woman.  Dutty Morris was attractive but not pretty.  Though her widely spaced eyes gave her a kind of blank expression, she was witty and kind.

“Hello, Gabby,” said Senta, disentangling herself from Hero and giving the other two girls quick kisses on the cheek.  “Hi Dutty.  Thanks for coming yesterday.”

“It was my pleasure,” said Dutty.  “And I didn’t give away any of your secrets either.”

“What secrets?” asked Gabby and Hero at the same time.

I don’t know where the idea came from for Iolanthe. In a lot of ways, she’s a much bitchier version of my mother, at least as I remember her from when I was a kid. Iolanthe has to be really tough to make it in a man’s world, especially a Victorian one. And her history explains a lot about her disposition. Her most distinctive physical feature: her aquamarine eyes, just came out of nowhere. I was looking for things to make my setting a little more other-worldly and that just popped into being. Her first name came from a baby name web site, but I made up the last name. I wanted something that could have gone from French into English aristocracy.

Because she is such a major Bitch, Iolanthe is a lot of fun to write. She can be very sympathetic and just when you think you’re going to start liking her, she does something excrutiatingly mean. Still, she is one of the heroes of the story. So what if she drives her family to destruction, basically enslaves an entire native population, and (arguably) commits several murders.

By book 6, The Sorceress and her Lovers, Iolanthe’s arc is essentially over.  She has achieved all of her goals, and the action moves to the younger members of her family.  One of them though, is he daughter Iolana, with who she has a very difficult relationship.

Chief Inspector Saba Colbshallow sat down for breakfast.  He looked first to his left at his mother and then to his right at his daughter.

“And where’s the lady of the house?” he asked.

“Mummy says she doesn’t feel good,” said DeeDee.  “She’s going to stay in bed today.”

Saba clucked his teeth in annoyance as Risty scooped scrambled eggs with diced peppers and onions onto his plate next to the sausages.

“I’m sure she has a good reason,” offered his mother.

“I’m sure.”

“She’s been having a rough time lately.”

“No doubt.”

“I don’t like onions in my eggs,” said DeeDee.

“Yes you do,” said her father.  “Look at me. I’m eating them.  Eat some and then Risty will get you a crumpet.”

“Maybe she’s out of sorts because she’s expecting,” said Mrs. Colbshallow.

“And here I thought Kafira was the only Immaculate Conception,” he muttered. He took another bite and ignored his mother’s scandalized look.

The only other bit of breakfast conversation was when DeeDee demanded strawberry jam with her crumpet.  When they were done, Saba helped his daughter fasten on her shoes and then her bonnet.

“Come along girl.  Your tutor is awaiting.”

“Maybe you should go up and kiss your wife goodbye,” said his mother.

“I’m sure she’s very busy with the second coming and all,” he said, and guided DeeDee out the front door.

They walked across the street to the Dechantagne Staff estate, where the lizzie doorman let them enter.  Mrs. Dechantagne was alone in the parlor.

“Hello Saba,” she said, getting to her feet.

“Please don’t get up, Mrs. D.”

“Oh please don’t call me that.”  She sat the book that she had been reading down and stepped over to him. “You’ve known me all your life, we lived in the same house for years, and don’t forget you were my husband’s best man at my wedding.”

“I was just a witness, and I haven’t forgotten a single moment.”

“You’re so sweet,” she smiled.  “What can I do for you today.”

“DeeDee’s going to start on with Iolana.”

“You’re early.  They usually don’t start until 11:00.”

“Yes, well I was wondering if I could leave her early.  Her mother’s not feeling well.”

“Of course.  I’ll take her upstairs and she can play with Terra.  That girl could use some human companionship.”

“If you’re sure it’s not an inconvenience…”

“None at all.  But you have to do me a favor first.”

“What?” he asked.

“You must address me properly.”

“As you wish… Yuah.”  He blushed furiously.

“See, that didn’t hurt,” she said as she took DeeDee’s hand.

“Be a good girl,” Saba told his daughter.

“I will.”

Back outside, he crossed over to his own yard, but didn’t go into the house. He climbed into the steam carriage that the lizzies had already rolled from the machine shed and fired up. Putting it in gear, he pulled out onto the street and headed for downtown.

He arrived at the five-story police station five minutes later than his usual time. He had parked the car and quickly made his way up the walk when he almost collided with Eamon Shrubb, who was on his way out.  He was dressed not in his police uniform, but in a grey suit not too different from the one that Saba wore, with the exception that Eamon had a turquoise utahraptor feather stuck in the hatband of his bowler.

“What’s this then?” asked Saba, waving at the other man’s clothes. “Finally got canned?”

“Quite the reverse, actually,” said Eamon.

“What’s the reverse of canned?  You can’t have just got hired.  You already work here.”

Eamon reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a wallet, flipping it open to reveal a police inspector’s badge.

“Well, somebody has clearly cocked up,” said Saba.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Not me.  It’s Mayor Luebking.  He’s got it in his mind that you’ve done some decent police work, and I can’t seem to disabuse him of the notion.  The man’s going to run this town into the ground, I can tell you.  Well, no help for that.  Come upstairs with me and we’ll run through the open investigations.”

“Um, I’ll be back in a bit.  I have to go show Dot my new badge.”

“Oh leave the poor girl alone.  You’re going to knock her up again.”

“Too late,” said Eamon with a grin.

“Bloody Kafira.  You’re like some kind of animal.”  Saba shook his head.  “All right. Go show her your badge, if that’s what you’re calling it these days.  Be back in an hour.  We really do have work to do.”

Taking the elevator up to his office, Saba pulled all the relevant files from the cabinet and began reading over them.  There were quite a few unsolved cases, though that was not uncommon anywhere in the Brech Empire.  The purpose of the police department was to keep order.  Solving crimes was secondary.  Besides, Birmisia Colony only had three police inspectors, himself included—four now that Eamon was on board.  There were four unsolved murders, as well as the killing of a lizzie, which was considered a lesser crime.  There were several dozen burglaries, a few robberies, an arson, and of course the bombing of the shipyard.  Saba was so involved, that he hardly noticed when Eamon stepped into his office.

“That didn’t take long.”

“Dot’s sister was there—lucky for me.  You know how she gets when she’s preggers.”

“Hmm.”

“So what have we got?”

Hsrandtuss looked around.  Yessonarah didn’t look appreciatively different than it had yesterday, or the day before, or for that matter, ten days ago.  The dam was still under construction.  The roadway down to the river was still being lined with gravel from the riverbed.  There were more wooden houses situated around the hill—over a hundred, but the great buildings that he had envisioned were nothing but foundations, at the most. The lizzie population had grown though. He shook his head.

“What is the matter, my husband?” asked Szakhandu.

“Things are not moving fast enough.”

“We are making great progress.”

“It’s not fast enough.  We don’t even have enough houses for all our people yet.”  He pointed toward the hill.  “I’m supposed to be looking at Yessonarah there.  Does that look like a city worthy of the one remaining god to you?”

“Tsahloose was not built in a day.”

“Was it built in ten days?” he asked.  “We’ve been here ten days now.”

She hissed mirthfully.  “No, Great King.  I don’t think it was built in ten days either.”

“I’m glad you find things so amusing.”

“My husband, you have to look at the positive side of things.  We have made contact with seven of the nearby villages and we’re already trading with three of them.  Game is plentiful.  We’re feeding all our people.  Workers are quarrying stone.  In another ten days, it will begin to look like a real city.”

“I don’t want to wait,” he said petulantly.

“Why don’t you take a walk?  That will make you feel better and it’s good for your health.”

Hsrandtuss grunted, but started down the path toward the river.  It was a hot, humid day.  Insects filled the air—more and more so as he approached the water.  He hadn’t even reached the edge of the trees before he spotted half a dozen feathered runners scavenging the refuse piles.  His people were dumping their garbage too close to the settlement.  The six velociraptors, as the humans called them, lifted their heads to watch him pass.  They didn’t approach, but they didn’t flee either.

When he reached the river bend, he stopped.  About a hundred lizzies were moving large stones into place.  The dam, having been started on this side, about halfway spanned the riverbed.  On the far side of the river, several channels detoured the water around the work area.  He didn’t see any crocodiles.  The hunters had killed one two days earlier and the others might have moved down river. Then again, maybe they were just hiding under the surface.  The gigantic beasts were known for their swift and savage attacks, but not their intelligence.

Turning southwest, Hsrandtuss followed the bank upstream.  As the forest grew a bit thicker, the patches of dappled sunlight grew less frequent.  Here he stopped to examine some blackberry bushes, but they had been denuded of fruit.

He heard the rustling of brush behind him and turned, expecting to find more of the raptors, but it was instead four lizzie males.  He didn’t recognize any of them.

“If it isn’t the great Hsrandtuss,” said one of the males, “out for a walk in the woods with no weapon.”

Without looking down, the king ran his hand along his belt.  It wasn’t completely true that he was weaponless. After all, he had his knife.  But he had gone and left his sword and spear at home.  He rested his hand on the knife handle, but didn’t pull the blade from its sheath. One of the males moved to the left, while two others moved to the right, so that they quickly had him surrounded.

“I think it’s time somebody showed you that you’re not so tough.  You can’t just move in wherever you want and take over the country.  People have already claimed this land.  It isn’t yours.”

Hsrandtuss hissed with annoyance.  He hated when they wanted to talk.  If he had his sword, he would have used the opportunity to attack, but since he didn’t, he had to wait for them to make the first move, and this warrior apparently thought he should give a speech first.

“I’m not sure I understand,” he said.  “You have weapons, but it seems you’ve decided to bore me to death.”

“Die invader!” hissed the warrior to Hsrandtuss’s right, thrusting his spear at the king.

Hsrandtuss sidestepped and grabbed the spear with his right hand, jerking the now off-balance warrior forward.  Spinning around, he unsheathed his knife and jabbed it into his attacker’s neck.  The talkative male jumped toward them with his sword raised above his head. Hsrandtuss shoved the wounded lizzie, a fountain of blood now spraying from his carotid artery, into the other’s path. Then he launched the spear he had taken at the male originally on his left.  It skewered him through the middle of the chest.  The lizzie with the sword tried to swing, but only managed to hit his already bloody companion.  As the poor wretch dropped to the ground, Hsrandtuss reached over him and stabbed the first warrior in the eye with his knife.

At that moment the king felt an impact on his back and a suddenly excruciating pain.  He knew the fourth lizzie had hit him with a sword.  Stabbing the first male again, he left his knife stuck in the warrior’s face and reaching up, took the hapless male’s sword.  Swinging it around, he decapitated the male who had hit him in the back.  Then spinning back around, he did the same to the warrior with the knife still stuck in his face.  A quick look at the other two told him they were in no shape to fight, though still alive. He retrieved his knife from the severed head.

Sitting down on a log, he felt his back.  There was a pretty deep slice, at least a foot long, which was bleeding freely. It was a recoverable wound, assuming he made it back home safely.  The smell of blood would attract predators.  After catching his breath, he stood up and stepped over to the warrior with the spear stuck through him.

“Where are you from?”

The warrior said nothing, just looked up with his yellow eyes.

“I can find out from your war paint, assuming the feathered runners leave enough of you for my people to find.”

“We are from Achocktah.”

“Did your chief send you?”

“No, it was Stohla.”  He looked at the body of the talkative lizzie.  “He wanted to be king.  Killing you would have given him much suuwasuu.”

Baxter leaned out as far as he could, looking at the beast swimming in the ocean two hundred feet below him.  Though a modern naval vessel, or for that matter the dirigible in which he now found himself would have dwarfed the marine reptile, it was still quite a monster. It had to be at least thirty feet long and it shot along the surface of the ocean like a dolphin.  It blew up water from its blowhole like one too.

“How soon before we reach Mallontah?” asked Senta, snaking her arm over his shoulder.

“Just after dinner this evening.  It will still be light out.  I understand it doesn’t get dark until after 9:00 this time of year.”

“That’s fine.”

“Where’s the baby?”

“She’s asleep.”

“I don’t like to leave her in the cabin alone.”  He turned and started toward the promenade door.

“She’s fine.  She has her babysitter.”

“And I don’t feel comfortable leaving her with that beast either.”

“It’s hard to believe you’re not her father.”  The words caused him to stop in his tracks.

“I’m very fond of her,” he said, turning.

“Oh, I know you are,” said the sorceress, sliding toward him.  “I think it’s very nice.  You’re a very good man, you know.”

“What’s your point?”

“Oh, I don’t think I have one.”  She wrapped her arms around his neck and licked from his chin to his nose.

He pulled her arms from around him and left the promenade, hurrying down the hallway to their cabin.  Opening the door, he found the baby asleep in the middle of the bed.  Perched on the corner of the bedstead was the coral dragon.

“Good baby,” it said.

Hurrying over to the bedside, Baxter quickly examined the sleeping child. Nothing seemed amiss.  He tucked her blanket around her and scowled at the little reptile.

“You see?  Nothing to worry about.”

He turned around to find the sorceress stepping out of the dress that was now in a pile around her feet.  She was still clad in her undergarments, though she wore fewer than most Brech women.

“You really are a horrible woman, you know.”

“I have my moments,” she smiled.

They spent most of the next hour making love, after which Senta curled up on the bed next to her daughter and went to sleep.  Baxter lit a cigarette and sat down in a chair, less comfortable than it looked, against the wall.  His eyes went from the woman to the child to the dragon, though he wasn’t conscious of any particular thoughts about them.  Just after he finished the cigarette, baby Senta fussed in her sleep. He stepped over to the bed and picked her up, taking her back to the chair and holding her against his chest. She stopped fussing and went back to sleep.  He smelled the baby’s blond hair.  She needed a bath.

His attention was drawn back to the dragon as it slithered down from the bedpost to the mattress.  Its little forked tongue played across the sorceress short hair for just a moment and then it bit her on the ear.

“Ow!  Kafira! You bloody twat!”  She backhanded the little dragon across the snout with her right hand, while cupping her ear with the left.  A thin trickle of blood dripped between her fingers.

“You horrible, vicious…”  She rolled off the bed and bent down in front of the cheval glass to examine herself. “Sweet Kafira Kristos, look at my ear! It’s full of holes!”

“Shh,” soothed Baxter as the baby, disturbed by the noise wriggled.  He kept his voice low as he spoke to her mother. “Maybe you could just put earrings in the holes.”

“I don’t have that many earrings,” growled the sorceress.  “My ear looks like a Mirsannan cheese.”

“Get your healing draught,” said Baxter, getting up and setting the baby in the chair.

When Senta had retrieved the brown bottle from her luggage in the other room, he had her bend her head over while he poured the clear liquid over the wounds. It fizzed a bit and then ran clear. When he wiped the remains away with a handkerchief, her ear was as cute and unblemished as it had been before.

“You!” said Senta, looking at the dragon, which withered under her gaze.

“Mirsannan cheese,” it said.

“Get in your carrier!”  She pointed to the still open connecting door.

The coral reptile flew off the bed and through the door, opened the animal carrier door itself and climbed inside, shutting the door behind it.

“I told you I didn’t trust that creature,” said Baxter.

Senta waved a hand dismissively.  “It’s just one of those things when you’re dealing with dragons. Bessemer must have bitten me a hundred times when I was a kid.”

“You’ll still have that attitude when it eats your baby, will you?”

“She couldn’t eat all of her.  Still, I suppose it’s better if we don’t leave them alone together… for now.”

“Goo.”  They turned to see the baby, awake and sitting up in the chair, watching them with her large grey eyes.

“At least the dragon can speak,” said the sorceress.

“You said the dragon’s four years old.  Senta’s only nine months,” said Baxter.  “Besides, she can speak.  She just said ‘goo’.”

“Good Kafira,” said Peter, when the three of them sat down to tea at his table in the dining room.  “If this voyage goes on much longer I’m going to go out of my mind.  I’m so incredibly bored.”

“You were at sea longer than this when you came to Birmisia before,” said Senta.

“Yes, but I had the other guys with me.  We played games and practiced our magic… chased a few girls… all right, we talked about chasing a few girls.  All I’ve done this trip is eat and sit in my stateroom.”

“I’m sorry we’ve been neglecting you,” she said.

“It’s all right.  I understand you want to be alone and all.”