Yuah Korlann turned away from the street and made her way up the stone walkway, through the large snow covered yard of the Dechantagne estate. In a way it seemed odd that she wasn’t living there. She had lived in one Dechantagne house or another all her life. She had grown up with the three Dechantagnes of this generation, gone to school with them, worked for them. She paused to hyperventilate for a moment before starting up the steps to the portico. She had a white fur coat over a new pale pink dress and a new, extra tight corset beneath that. Standing at attention outside of the front door was a lizardman, naked except for a yellow ribbon with a gold medallion around its neck. As she approached, the creature suddenly moved. She flinched, but it was only reaching back to open the door for her.

“Um, thank you,” she said, stepping hesitantly through the doorway.

Inside was a maze of boxes and furniture heaped up against the walls. She navigated through them and into the parlor, surprised to find it clear of any such obstructions. A large comfortable sofa and several stuffed chairs had been set up around a small table. There was even a hutch against the wall with a full bottle of sherry and several glasses upon a silver tray. A fire was burning in the fireplace. There was no drapery in place yet, but two large trees outside kept the light from being too harsh. Above the mantle was the only picture hanging in the room—a portrait of General Augustus Q. Dechantagne, the younger brother of Iolanthe’s and Terrence’s grandfather. “Good morning Yuah.”

Yuah turned to find Terrence standing in the doorway. He looked good. He had gained a bit of weight, though he was still too thin. He was neatly groomed and dressed in a black suit. His bandaged eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark spectacles. With his left hand, he held onto the door frame. Terrence had been captured, tortured, and blinded in the lizzie city of Suusthek, along with Corporal Bratihn. Ordinarily a magic user of Zurfina’s skill could have restored their sight, but they had been cursed by a lizzie witch-doctor and there was no priest in the colony powerful enough to remove the curse.

“How did you know it was me?”

“The smell. With all those potions and lotions you use, it had to be either you or a group of a dozen other women. And since I didn’t hear any chattering, I decided it couldn’t be the latter.”

“Very astute. I was just admiring the portrait.”

“Great Uncle Augie, is it?”

“Yes. Isn’t he the one that… um…”

“Lost his manhood to a musket ball. Yes. I think Iolanthe is trying to send me a message, but I don’t know what it is.”

“I’m not certain I would want to know.”

Terrence made his way to the hutch, stepping confidently but following along the wall with his left hand.

“Brandy?”

“It’s way too early for me to drink,” replied Yuah.

“Fortunately, it’s not too early for me.” He poured himself a glass and took a sip. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I was hoping I could get you to take me somewhere. You really should get out.”

“Get out? I’ve just gotten in here.”

“You know what I mean. You’ve been cooped up inside, first in the apartment and now here, since the first snow fall.”

“Where do you propose that I take you? Birmisia isn’t exactly known for its lively social spots and it’s too bloody cold to do anything out of doors.”

“Well, we could take a stroll to Mr. Parnorsham’s Pfennig Store.”

“More lotions?”

“Notions actually,” Yuah replied pertly. “I need a bit of thread and a needle.”

“Of course you realize that you passed Mr. Parnorsham’s on the way over here.”

“Of course.”

He took another sip of his brandy, and then set the class down next to the others. “I’ll have to get my great coat.”

While Yuah waited, she pulled a hand from her fur muff and primped her hair. Within five minutes Terrence had returned, dressed for cold weather. Yuah took him by the hand and led him through the mazes of boxes and furniture to the front door. The lizzie opened it just before they got there.

“What do you think about all these lizzies your sister is hiring,” she said as they made their way across the front yard.

“I prefer not to think of them at all.”

Ssissiatok shuffled down the road and through the gate in the great wooden wall. On either side, groups of softskins watched her and the other people. The people walked slowly as they always did in the cold. This was not to say they could only walk slowly in the cold, but Ssterrost had reminded all of them coming from Tserich how they were to act. They were to act slow and they were to act simple and they were not to show the newcomers anything they weren’t expecting. Most of the people in this group were from Tserich, but there were a few others. Ssissiatok recognized the tribal symbol of Tuustutu on the shoulder of one very tall male the back of the group.

Ssissiatok herself was slightly less than six feet in height, about average for members of her sex and species. She was young and didn’t have the mottled skin and scars of most of her elders. 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 most attractive feature, her long powerful tail, followed her just a few inches above the ground.

The line of people filed through the wall and between the large square huts of the softskins. Though she had heard elders telling stories of the great cities of Suusthek, Tsotollah, and Tsahloose, this softskin village was the largest community that Ssissiatok had ever seen. More and more of the softskins lined the road to gawk and to jabber with their little mouths, as the people reached the bigger buildings that were “the base.” Ssissiatok knew “base” and many other human words.

The line stopped and a softskin ahead was shouting. “You lizzies move on up here.”

Ssissiatok and the other people moved forward into a group.

“You will step up to the table and give the soldier your name and information. Then you will be given your identification and you will wait on the seats over there until the employers come to select you.”

Ssissiatok fell in line behind Tissonisuk, an older male she knew from the village. Unlike most of the others, Tissonisuk was not hunkering down to make himself look smaller for the softskins. He was standing up at his full six foot seven height. The line moved forward until Tissonisuk reached the table with the softskin seated behind it.

“Name? Oh, hey. I know you, don’t I? Tisson. Right?”

Tissonisuk bobbed his head up and down in the way that the softskins did.

“Come to sign on permanent, eh? Good for you. Hold out your hand. Keep this identification bracelet on at all times.”

Tissonisuk, now just Tisson, stepped away from the table. Ssissiatok stepped forward.

“Hey now. You’re a short one, aren’t you? Are you a girl?”

Ssissiatok didn’t know this word.

“Female?”

Ssissiatok hissed in the affirmative, but the softskin didn’t understand, and lowered his hand to the weapon on his belt.

“Fee nail. Fee nail,” said Ssissiatok quickly.

“That’s better. And you can talk too. A little feisty. Don’t worry. We’ll work that out of you in no time. Hold your hand out.”

Ssissiatok did as directed and the softskin tied an identification bracelet around her wrist. She looked at the strange symbols on it.

“Want to know what it says? That’s your number now—two hundred ninety five. And it says you can talk, so you can’t fool us. Don’t even try. What’s your name Little Miss Lizzie?”

“Ssissiatok.”

“Cissy. Perfect.”

“Ssissiatok.”

“You’re Cissy now, got it? And I’ve got just the place for you. Go stand over with that lot there.”

The snow was falling from the sky in great clumpy bunches. They dropped like feathers through the still, cold air to form great piles on the ground. The snow had been coming down steadily for four hours. The huckleberry and azalea bushes were covered over with a thick blanket. The little walkway of stepping stones that led to the road and the road itself were just memories, covered by billowy white. Spruces and maples dipped their bare branches forlornly and even the mighty redwoods struggled under the weight of the gathering snow. But the snow didn’t care. It continued on, relentlessly smothering the world. It completely surrounded the strange five story home nestled in the Birmisian woods. Not too far away a tremendous roar echoed through the trees.

“Monster,” said the steel dragon, peeking out the door from between Graham Dokkin’s legs.

“Tyrannosaurus,” corrected Senta Bly. “I guess he doesn’t like the snow too much.”

“Well who does?” wondered Graham, looking down at the dragon. “And get your head away from there. That’s all I need, to have my goolies bit.”

“He hasn’t bitten anyone in almost a year,” countered Senta, “has he Hero?”

Hero Hertling didn’t answer. At the mention of goolies, she had covered her face with both hands, though one could still spot the spreading blush around its edges. She and her brother Hertzal, along with Graham, were spending the day at Senta’s house. They had been delivered just before the snow started by Graham’s Da to the five story structure set well away from the rest of Port Dechantagne. Although Senta and her guardian Zurfina the Magnificent had been living here for almost a year, it had taken quite a while to convince Graham’s parents and Hero and Hertzal’s older sister to let them spend the day there. This was the first time that all three had visited together.

“Why don’t you close the door?” said Hero from between her fingers. “Who knows what might run out of the forest and into here.”

Her brother, who never said anything, nodded.

“Alright then. Move over dragon.” Graham scooted the steel beastie with his boot while shutting the door.

“Call him by his name,” said Senta.

“Bessemer,” said the dragon, and then made his way to the far wall to curl up on a single large pillow next to the cast iron stove.

Though more than eight feet from tip of whiskered snout to the barbed tip of his tail, Bessemer was not much taller at the shoulder than a medium sized dog. Scales the color of polished steel covered him from his nose all the way to the clawed tips of his fingers. Even his eyes were steel colored, so much so that it was difficult to see just where he was looking. So lithe and agile was he when he moved, it was rather like watching a river flow across the room.

“Bessemer,” said Graham, still looking at the dragon. “It just doesn’t fit. I’d have gone with Whiskers or Peetie.”

“Zurfina says that dragons are born knowing their own names,” said Senta. “It’s just another sign that they are so much smarter than people.”

“Fina,” said the dragon.

“When is Zurfina getting home,” wondered Hero, at last uncovering her face. “I can’t believe she left you all alone out here in the wilderness.”

“This isn’t the wilderness. This is our house.”

“You know what I mean.”

“It’s not any farther away from the wall than your new house is.”

“No, but there are other houses around ours.”

Hero and Hertzal lived in a small but sturdy house that was part of a new neighborhood on the east side of the growing colony. Though their house had been the first one built in that area, there were now more than a dozen similar structures, all occupied by ethnic Zaeri, who had fled persecution in Freedonia.

“Zurfina is very busy lately,” explained Senta. “With no wizards in the colony, she has to do all the magic stuff herself—at least until I get good enough to help out. Besides I’m used to taking care of myself.”

“It’s on account of her being a orphan,” offered Graham.

The three other children all stared mutely at him.

“What?” he asked, having forgotten that of the four, he was the only one who was not an orphan.

Graham, who although he had recently hit a growth spurt was still decidedly chunky, had brown hair, freckles, and very large teeth. He was dressed in a long-sleeved flannel shirt and dungarees rolled up around the leather boots that had once been his father’s. Graham always wore his dungarees rolled up at the ankles, as his mother was in the habit of buying them to fit him sometime in the distant future. Still the fact that all his clothes, save the boots, were new, spoke to the Dokkins family’s growing prosperity. Hero and Hertzal, who were twins, both with thick dark hair, though Hertzal kept his cut short around the ears, and beautiful dark eyes, wore neat and well-maintained, but obviously home-sewn clothes. Following the Freedonian Zaeri custom, which eschewed color, Hertzal wore a white shirt with brown trousers while his sister wore a brown dress with a white linen overdress.

“Hungry,” said Bessemer from the corner.

“Yes, it’s about time for tea,” agreed Senta.

Senta stood out from the other three children like day stands out from night. Her straight, light blond hair seemed the exact opposite of Hero’s thick, curly, raven waves. Senta’s skin, which in the summer had taken on a bit of tan as she played around town, had gone back to its natural alabaster white. And though she was only an inch taller than the twins, she seemed far more so because she was very thin. Today she wore one more in a series of bizarre creations that Zurfina provided for her on a daily basis. Zurfina, her guardian and a powerful sorceress, was of the opinion that she and her ward should appear mysterious. To Senta’s mind, the clothing that usually resulted from this idea was too often just plain weird. This particular outfit, a black dress made of luxurious Mirsannan silk, looked far too much like a dressing gown for her taste. It draped down to her ankles with no decoration or flourish while the long sleeves and neck exploded with black lace. Still, it had one great redeeming feature. It was warm.

Graham and Hertzal sat down at the table, while Senta and Hero gathered fruit and cheese, butter and jam, scones which Graham’s mother had sent along, and a pot of tea.

“Still, it is dangerous out here in the woods so far from the protective wall,” continued Hero, who seemed to relish having something of which to be frightened. “Honor said that four grown men were attacked by a large group of Deinonychus when they were cutting firewood.”

“My Da says ‘this is Birmisia and you’ve just got to keep your wits about you’,” said Graham. “It won’t be long before we’re all living outside the wall and nobody will think anything about it. Besides this tower is ace.”

Senta had already given her three friends the three pfennig tour of her new home. It wasn’t really a tower. It was just a small building, no larger in floor area than most homes, but rising to five stories. The ground floor was a kitchen, dining area, and storage rooms. The first floor up was the living room and Bessemer’s chamber. The second floor up was a bedroom and playroom for Senta. Above that was Zurfina’s bedroom and boudoir. The very top story was the sorceress’s private study, which had not been on the tour, and which in fact Senta herself had never seen.

“I do love your room,” said Hero. “All that space just for you. You’re like a princess.”

“Mind you I don’t know why the dragon needs his own room,” said Graham. “All he does is sit down here by the stove anyway. And what do you need a bathtub in your bedroom for?”

Senta’s bedroom did indeed feature, in addition to a large four poster bed, a floor chest, a pair of small nightstands, an oak wardrobe, a five shelf bookcase, and a cheval glass; a large claw-foot bathtub with fully modern plumbing, which had only just been connected.

“I bathe every single day in my tub and I love it.”

“That’s just not healthy.” Graham raised a finger as if he was tutoring philosophy. “My Da says you’ll wash off the protective layer of dirt and oil.”

Moments after this bit of philosophizing, Graham had turned quiet as he tucked into the afternoon repast. Senta let the others begin while she continued around the kitchen area, the most wonderful feature of which was a froredor. The froredor was a magical ice box. It didn’t look too different from any other ice box, most of which were simply heavily insulated cabinetry. But where ice boxes had two small doors, one for the food storage area and one in which to put the ice, the froredor had only one large door. It never needed ice. Magic kept it at thirty eight degrees. Of course one could simply have placed the food outside the door in a snow bank, but that would probably only invite more deinonychus or their smaller cousins the velociraptors, who needed precious little invitation.

Placing two large sausages on a plate, along with a crumpet, she carried it over to Bessemer and sat it down beside him before returning to the table and sitting down.

“Say thank you,” she called over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” said the dragon, his voice not too different than that of a small child.

“You keep training him to talk and pretty soon you won’t be able to shut him up,” warned Graham, a bit of masticated crumpet flying from his mouth to land beside his plate.

“Thank you for never talking with your mouth full,” Senta told Hertzal pointedly. The dark haired boy nodded happily, while Graham looked appropriately chastened.

The roar of the tyrannosaurus echoed through the forest outside once again. Hero shivered and Graham carefully swallowed before speaking.

“If I had a rifle right now, I’d go out and shoot that thing.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Senta. “How do you think we’d feel if all we had of you was one foot?”

“Father Ian didn’t have a gun and he wasn’t hunting. I’d have my wits about me.”

Father Ian, the priest who had arrived on the H.M.S. Minotaur along with Senta, Graham, and the first group of colonists, had been killed and almost completely eaten by a tyrannosaurus, though his single shoe-clad foot had been given an appropriate burial.

The small group finished their meal and then gathered around the stove, wrapping up in large fluffy blankets as Hero read The Pale Sun by Geert Resnick. The twin’s older sister Honor, who served as their tutor and guardian, required the book for their lessons. Zurfina had taken on Senta’s instruction and could not possibly care less whether she read any novels at all. And Graham had only been induced to listen by the revelation that the book had been banned in Freedonia, however as he would later discover much to his unhappiness, this was because of an indictment of Freedonian politics and not for any lurid sexual content. They had just gotten comfortably settled when they realized that the light coming in through the shuttered windows from outside had become too dim for reading. Without getting up, Senta pointed her finger and said “Uuthanum,” magicing some candles to life.

Hero had read the first two chapters when the door opened and a figure clad from head to toe in black furs stepped inside. The figure brushed the snow off its shoulders and then pulled back its hood to reveal Zurfina the Magnificent. Unbuttoning her heavy fur coat, she let it drop to the floor, stepping out of it to reveal an outfit that exactly matched Senta’s. The outfit was not the only thing about Zurfina which resembled Senta. She had the same color of blond hair, though she had a small bald spot over her right ear, and the same pale complexion. Zurfina was slightly on the tall side, a trait almost always enhanced by high heels, and though slender, possessed an appropriate amount of female curves– something Senta found herself envying more each day.

“Why is my house infested with children?” the sorceress demanded, though exactly to whom she was speaking was unclear. “Why aren’t you all out playing in the snow? It was my understanding that children adore it.”

“The tyrannosaurus is out there,” said Senta.

“Well if it attacks, you simply run in four different directions. That way you have at least a seventy five percent chance of getting away.”

“Unless he can hop from one to the other of us,” said Senta. “I doubt he would be as hindered by the snow as we would be.”

“Then perhaps you’ve made a good decision,” said Zurfina and headed up the staircase in the center of the room. “Wake me for dinner, Pet.”

“Is she serious?” wondered Graham.

“About dinner?”

“No. About us playing when the tyrannosaurus is about.”

Senta shrugged. “You know she almost let me get eaten by velociraptors once.”

Any further consideration of her mistress’s peculiarities was cut short by a knock at the door. Picking up Zurfina’s discarded coat and throwing it onto the coat rack, Senta opened the door to find Honor Hertling and three armed militiamen, one of whom was carrying a lantern.

“Did you have fun?” she asked the four children. “It’s time to go home now.”

“I thought my Da was coming to get us,” said Graham.

“He was needed at the saw mill, so I said that I would come and fetch you. Of course Mayor Korlann wouldn’t let me out of the gate without an armed escort.” She indicated the three men who were glancing cautiously into the dark spaces between the trees. She waited at the door while Graham, Hertzal, and Hero gathered their things.

Honor Hertling was in many ways an older version of Hero, with a thick mane of raven hair and large, expressive, dark eyes. Her lips were as enchanting as her eyes, but her nose, that feature that so often goes unnoticed in even the most beautiful, was the most striking thing about her. It was perfect; neither too long nor too short; perfectly symmetrical and correctly sized for her face. That nose brought together those lips and those eyes in a symphony of beauty on a face that had once been flawless. But the flawless days had ended in Freedonia, when a soldier’s rifle butt had smashed down on that beautiful face and now a scar ran from her cheekbone to her chin. It was not so horrible a scar that people looked away. It was not so bad that their eyes were constantly drawn to it when they spoke to her. It was noticeable though, and just as though a scratch is more noticeable on a steam carriage that is brand new rather than one that has seen some years of service, it was all the more noticeable and all the more tragic because of the otherwise perfect face which it marred. And in Honor’s eyes, it ruined her.

After watching her friends start off through the snow, Senta closed the door and sat back down to read. She didn’t continue with The Pale Sun, which Hero had taken anyway. She read from the big book of Argrathian mythology that she had found in one of Zurfina’s unpacked boxes. It was filled with fantastic stories of ancient gods and goddesses, as well as quite a few of the type of lurid details that Graham would have appreciated, had she chosen to share it with him. After a bit more than an hour, she got up and began seeing to dinner. There wasn’t much left in the froredor quite frankly, but she did find the large ocean fish that Graham had brought the day before and she had potatoes. She could make fish and chips. She peeled and sliced the potatoes. Then she cleaned the fish and cut it into large rectangular pieces, after which she had to stoke up the fire in the stove and add several logs. As she mixed the flour, salt, egg, and beer to form the batter, she called to the steel dragon, still sitting on his cushion by the stove.

“Bessemer, why don’t you go wake Zurfina?”

“Fina,” responded the dragon, and hopped from his warm spot to the base of the stairs in one bounce and shot up the steps.

By the time that Zurfina arrived at the foot of the stairs, Bessemer at her heels, Senta had set the table and fried the chips and fish, which she scooped into heaping piles on each of three plates. This time Bessemer climbed up on one of the chairs and picked up a piece of fish with his clawed fingers, examining it before tossing it into his mouth.

“I hope you didn’t use all of my beer,” said the sorceress.

“No, of course not,” Senta replied, retrieving a dark beer from the froredor as well as a Billingbow’s Soda Water for herself. “So where have you been all day, anyway?”

“I’ve been gathering potion ingredients.”

“Are we going to make more happiness potion?”

“We have enough Blessudine to last us for months. You must learn to make other potions.”

“Well I want to, but they’re hard.”

“Tomorrow we’ll make some Amorazine and you can use it on that chubby boy that you like.”

“His name is Graham and when he grows up he’s going to love me for me, not because of any love potion.”

“As you say,” said Zurfina, picking up a chip and biting into it.

The next day when Senta got up though, Zurfina was nowhere to be found. She might have been on the top floor of the tower, but as she had expressed on more than one occasion that the girl was never to enter that level, Senta didn’t go to see. It was just as likely that she was not there. Senta had long grown accustomed to Zurfina’s random comings and goings, made most of the time without any notification to her ward.

Senta indulged in a nice long bath, the water provided by the new plumbing system but magically heated. Then she had the last bit of bread in the house with a spoon of jam for a breakfast. Bessemer was fast asleep next to the stove and didn’t even wake up to ask for something to eat.

Outside the snow was more than two feet deep in the middle of the yard and in the road, while next to the house and among the trees in the forest, the drifts were taller than a grown man. The flakes had stopped falling for now, but the skies looked as though they could open up and drop much more at any time. Senta threw on her heavy coat over the short black dress with black and white stockings that she had found waiting for her that morning, and slipped on a large pair of oiled boots that Graham had grown out of. Then she headed out the door.

The clouds hung low, touching the tops of the massive pines. The world seemed very small. Sounds echoed between the trees. Senta walked into the center of the yard and looked around into the surrounding forest for any sign of the tyrannosaurus, but its massive black body and great red face were pleasantly absent. A couple of microraptors chased each other from a huge pine to a maple and back, while a pair of buitreraptors and a lone mahakala dug around in the snow near the edge of the road. Most of the proper birds had flown south for the winter, but these strange Birmisian birds were ever present.

Senta dropped onto her back in the center of the yard, with her arms outstretched and made a snow angel. Getting back up, she walked across the yard, managing to stay on the path despite the fact that she had to guess at its location. Then she started east down the road, startling the two buitreraptors into the woods, though the mahakala stubbornly refused to leave on account of one small human.

It was a walk of only about three hundrerd yards from the new home Zurfina the sorceress and her ward to the large gate in the protective wall that divided the now completely subdued pinnensula from the large and still untamed forest. When Senta reached the gate she found a great deal of activity. A town square had been built just outside the gate some months before, and it would eventually be the center point of the colony. A new flagpole had been delivered on the last ship and it was being erected by two men while a small crowd of men and women watched. That was not all that was going on though. No less than three good-sized buildings were under construction around the square despite the frigid and damp weather. The two new buildings on the east side of the square already had walls, doors, and windows and now men walked around upon their roofs hammering down shingles. The building on the southwest corner was still being framed in when Senta had last seen it– little more than a wooden and iron skeleton of a building. Now its walls were done and it too was getting a roof. The three were joining the two buildings that had sat along the east side of the square since its construction– the dress shop and Mr. Parnorsham’s Pfennig Store. Senta saw a face she knew and walked over to its owner.

“Hello Mr. Darwin.”

“Oh hello, Senta,” said the bespectacled older man, who was only slightly taller than the ten year old girl. “How are you this cold morning?”

“I’m okay. Which of these buildings is going to be yours?”

“This one right here,” he replied, pointing to the left most of the two having their roofs put on. “I’m right next to Mr. Parnorsham’s Pfennig Store. I think that’s the best spot in the square. Don’t you?”

“I kind of thought you would have moved in there when Mrs. Wachtel died,” said Senta, indicating the shop just to the left of the Pfennig Store.

“Yes, well… to be honest, when Mrs. Wachtel… a… passed away,” Mr. Darwin crossed himself. “I had already signed the paperwork.”

“So what are they going to do with her place?”

“It’s my understanding that Mrs. Bratihn is going to take over the business.”

“I guess that will be good since her husband can’t work on account of being blind.”

“Mmm,” nodded Mr. Darwin, noncommittally while he took off his glasses to wipe them with a clean handkerchief.

“I didn’t expect Mrs. Government to let us go too long without a dress shop.”

Mr. Darwin bit his lower lip. “Senta, you are irrepressible. You are going to have to learn to watch what you say.”

“I think Senta will always say what she means,” said a voice from behind them.

They turned around to see Egeria Lusk in a beautiful dress that was only slightly less white than the surrounding snow and a bright colored coat that was only slightly more red than her fiery hair, which just now was pulled up into a bun and tucked behind the straw boater she wore. Miss Lusk was a very small woman with very large green eyes, and though strikingly beautiful, she was known more for her keen mind.

“Good day to you, sir,” she said, curtseying to Mr. Darwin, who bowed at the waist in return. “Where are you off to, Senta?”

Senta shrugged.

“I’m going to the Pfennig Store for some lace. Why don’t you come along with me?”

“Okay. Good day Mr. Darwin.”

“Good day beautiful ladies,” said Mr. Darwin, once again bowing at the waist.

Miss Lusk glided across the snowy square and Senta followed, watching the swaying motion of the woman’s fashionably large bustle. It was just about large enough that Senta and another ten year old could have hidden themselves under it. Miss Lusk’s bright red coat was cut wide at the bottom to expand and encompass her very large lower half.

“That’s a great dress,” remarked Senta. “You must have a huge hip bag under there.”

Miss Lusk glanced over her shoulder and winked. “All part of the price of fashion. I’m afraid that without the proper foundation I just don’t have the necessary shape.”

“I don’t think anybody has a bottom that big,” said Senta.

“No. Nobody does.” Miss Lusk stopped to pull open the door of the Pfennig Store. “And nobody walks around on their toes either, but we wear high-heels to look like we do.”

Senta stepped inside the door as the bell hanging above it jingled. Miss Lusk followed and the bell jingled again as the door closed. Mr. Parnorsham looked up from behind the counter where he was rearranging costume jewelry in the glass case. He squinted through his bifocals and wiped his hands on his white apron.

“Good day ladies.”

“Good day Mr. Parnorsham.” Miss Lusk politely feigned interest in the costume jewelry. “I’m in need of some two inch lace today.”

“Let me show you what I have.”

Senta wandered over to look at the toy counter. It was a small twenty four inch square counter divided into six inch square compartments, each with a different type of toy. There were rubber bouncing balls, toy guns, tin soldiers, doll sized tea cups with saucers, and wooden ponies with yarn tails. Senta picked one up and made a horse noise by blowing air between her lips.

“That’s just the one I need,” said Miss Lusk from the other aisle.

“How much is the toy horse, Mr. Parnorsham?” called Senta.

“It’s a toy pony and it’s five pfennigs. Oh, by the way Miss Lusk, I just got in some more tins of butter biscuits. I know how much you like them.”

“Yes I’ll take one of those too.”

“Just one?”

“Just one,” she peered around the aisle at Senta and whispered loudly. “I won’t need that bustle if I keep eating these. Aren’t you a bit old for a toy pony?”

“It’s for Bessemer. He’s been playing with my doll lately and I’m afraid he’s going to bite her head off.”

“Do you have five pfennigs?”

“Yeah. I just don’t know if I want to spend them. I guess I will though.” She picked up the wooden pony and brought it to the counter.

“That will be seventy five P, Miss Lusk.”

“We’ll have two of those as well,” said Miss Lusk, pointing at a large framed picture of a brown bottle emblazoned with the words “Billingbow’s Original Sarsaparilla and Wintergreen Soda Water.” Then she winked again at Senta.

“Well that will bring you total to ninety seven P.”

Miss Lusk reached daintily into her bosom and withdrew a small roll of paper banknotes of which she peeled off a single one mark note and held it out. Mr. Parnorsham looked at it for a long moment as if not sure whether it was appropriate for him to touch something that had just come from within a young woman’s garments. Finally he took it by the very corner and carrying it carefully, as though he thought it might spontaneously combust, he placed it in the cash box, and withdrew three copper pfennigs change, which, now overwhelmed by the idea of more intimate physical contact, he placed on the counter instead of in Miss Lusk’s hand.

He turned around and pulled two Billingbow’s from the ice box and set them next to the other purchases and then turned his attention to Senta.

“Five P.”

Senta slapped down a two-tone five pfennig piece, with its copper center and nickle outer ring. She watched unhappily as Mr. Parnorsham picked it up and added it to his till. She had been saving that coin for quite a while, not because of any sentimental attachment, but because she thought that the coin was much prettier than even more valuable coins. Unlike most every other Brech coin, it didn’t feature the face of one of the royal family on the obverse, just a big number five surrounded by some kind of leaves. On the reverse side, it had the image of an owl.

“So what is your feeling about Mr. Darwin opening his store next to yours?” Miss Lusk asked the proprietor.

“I’m actually looking forward to it. Now I’ll have someone to visit with during the afternoon lull.”

“Do you know what’s going to go in the other two new buildings?”

“On the other side of Darwin will be Mr. Vever’s jewelry shop.”

“Oh indeed,” said Miss Lusk, holding up her left hand. “He made my engagement ring you know.”

Mr. Parnorsham dutifully squinted at the ring and nodded in appreciation.

“What about the building across the way?”

“That’s going to be the new bakery. A Zaeri woman named Mrs. Finkler will be running it.”

“Yes. Ada Finkler. She’s very nice.”

“She seems nice,” said Mr. Parnorsham. “Not that I’ve known many Zaeri.”

“Good day Mr. Parnorsham,” said Miss Lusk, handing one bottle of Billingbow’s to Senta, and picking up the rest of her purchases. Senta took the soda bottle in one hand and picked up the toy horse with the other, and the two of them stepped outside, the bell above the door ringing once again.

“You know Mr. Parnorsham, Mr. Darwin, and Mr. Vever are all going to be in a row,” said Senta.

“Yes… Is there some significance to that?”

“Only that they’re all little old bald men.”

Miss Lusk covered her mouth with her hand, trying to be discreet as she giggled. “Mr. Vever isn’t that old…. And Mr. Parnorsham isn’t… completely bald.”

“Sure he is,” said Senta. “I wouldn’t say it in front of him, because he’s pretty nice.”

“I appreciate your discretion.” Tears were forming in Miss Lusk’s eyes. “Excuse me just a moment.”

She turned and went back into the store. Senta took a swig of her Billingbow’s and looked across at the construction of the bakery. A boy only a few years older than her was directing several grown men working on the project.

“Do you know that boy?” asked Miss Lusk, coming back outside.

“That’s Aalwijn Finkler. I guess he wants to make sure that his mom’s bakery is put together right.”

Miss Lusk had apparently gone back in the store for a straw, which she now stuck into the top of her soda bottle and daintily sipped from. Noticing the girl looking at her, she said, “I never learned to swig.”

They both heard a commotion across the square at the same time and turned back to the bakery. Aalwijn Finkler and the men working with, or for him had stopped what they were doing and were speaking loudly, though Senta could only catch a few of their words. The subject of their discussions soon became apparent though as a line of some forty lizzies came walking into the square from the south. A sole militiaman, armed with a rifle slung haphazardly over his shoulder accompanied them.

The workmen went back to their hammering, but Aalwijn Finkler hopped down from the construction site and skipped across the square just in front of the line of lizardmen, who were moving so slowly in the cold weather that it looked to Senta as though they were suffering the effects of a slow spell. The young man walked up to the woman and the girl.

“Hey Senta,” he said.

“Hey.” Senta took another swig of soda.

“Um… Hello Miss Lusk.”

“I’m flattered that you know me, Mr. Finkler,” said Miss Lusk smiling.

“Oh, everyone knows you, Miss Lusk,” Aalwijn said, not registering the fact that she knew his name. “I suppose you’ll be heading over to the base after this lot.”

“Why would you suppose that?” wondered Senta.

“These are the lizzies that are going to be the household servants,” explained Aalwijn. “I expect you’ll need quite a few for that fine house of yours.”

“My home won’t be ready for a few weeks yet,” said Miss Lusk.

“Someday I’m going to have a house like yours. Then my mother and I can take it easy and we’ll have dozens of lizzies to wait on us.”

“I’m sure you will. I’ll tell you what. When my home is completed, I’ll have both of you over to tea.” She smiled at the two young people. “In the meantime, I’m on my way back to my apartment, so I must say adieu.”

“Good day Miss,” said Aalwijn.

“Bye,” said Senta.

Miss Lusk started toward the gate, rapidly overtaking the long line of lizzies, who had only now reached the opening in the great wall. The two children stood looking on, though whether either was watching the lizzies or Miss Lusk’s swaying bustle was a matter of interpretation.

A young soldier burst into the tent, running into the back of Miss Hertling, and knocking her forward. She would have fallen completely to the floor had not Professor Calliere caught her.

“Kafira’s eyes!” snapped Iolanthe. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

“Sorry Ma’am,” said the soldier, nervously. “Sergeant Clark’s compliments, Ma’am. There is a large force of lizardmen approaching from the southeast. The sergeant has already called for all troops to man the ramparts. And the lizardmen have rifles, Ma’am.”

“Where the hell did they get rifles?” wondered Calliere.

“From our troops,” said Iolanthe, gravely. “How many lizardmen are there?”

“We don’t know, at least a thousand.”

“Tell the sergeant to hold the wall,” she ordered. The soldier then ran out of the tent. Turning to the women, she said. “Thirty five men aren’t going to hold the wall for long. Get everyone moving. We’re evacuating out to the end of the peninsula.”

“What are we going to do there?” asked Dr. Kelloran.

“We’re going to make our stand. Zeah, get some of the men and distribute as many guns and as much ammunition as we have. Go. Mercy, come with me.”

Iolanthe stepped out of the tent and marched purposefully toward the wall. Professor Calliere followed along behind her. When she reached the wall, she gathered up her dress and extensive petticoats into her left arm and used her right to climb up the ladder to the walkway that served as a firing platform twenty feet off the ground. Sergeant Clark was there.

“Where are they?” she asked, panting for breath and peering out of a firing port.

“Still mostly in the trees, but they’re out there.”

“And your men?”

“I’ve got them spread out fifty feet apart, but that means we’ve only got a fifth of the wall covered.”

“I can do the math,” she snapped. “You aren’t going to fight them from here. Just make them think you are. I want you to keep them cautious long enough for the colonists to get out onto the peninsula. Send four men to break the machine guns out of storage and set them up at that bottleneck four hundred yards north of the dock. That’s the only place we have a hope of holding them off.

“Mercy, you know the place, don’t you?”

Calliere nodded.

“Good. You supervise. Get those machine guns set up.”

Calliere nodded again and rushed back down the ladder. Sergeant Clark called four men and ordered them to follow the professor. Iolanthe turned back to the soldier.

“I’ll send word to you when to fall back,” she said. “Remember Clark. You cannot fall back until those colonists are out near the coast. If those tribesmen get past our trap, it will be a bloodbath.”

Crossing the great grassland, Terrence could see a line of rolling hills on the far side. It was only after they had marched through the waist tall grass for more than an hour however, when the hills revealed one of the greatest sights that he or any of the soldiers had ever seen. Framed between two closer hills and sitting atop the larger, rockier promontory behind, was a city. Even from a distance of many miles, it was easy to see that this city was something spectacular. Huge gleaming white pyramids rose from its center and giant walls surrounded it, as if keeping it from flowing down the sides of the hill. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands of houses and other buildings were contained within its confines.

“I didn’t think they were capable of anything like this,” said Augie, obviously speaking of the lizardmen.

Without thinking, Terrence had stopped to stare at the magnificent sight. He didn’t say anything, but he hadn’t been aware that the reptilians were capable of anything along this line either. The other soldiers moved up and formed a group, rather than a line. All stared in rapt fascination and open astonishment at a city that might very well have rivaled Brech in size.

“Dechantagne,” said Wizard Labrith, pointing.

Terrence followed his gaze and saw spread out across the savannah, a line of lizardmen. They were so well camouflaged that they blended right into the rising landscape behind them. They stretched out to the left and the right so far that they created a half circle around the humans, and this at a distance of more than a mile. Many of the lizardmen were painted red and white and black, and most wore feathers. Most also carried the swords, made of wood and flint, that the men had seen before.

“Kafira,” said one of the soldiers. “There must be a thousand of them.”

“More like five thousand,” said Labrith.

“Talk to them,” said Terrence to Augie, indicating the two lizardmen with them. “Find out if these are our friends or the enemies.”

Augie hissed. Sarkkik hissed back. Augie translated.

“We know of your people. Though it is far away, we know of your people living in Mallontah. We know how they have enslaved the natives there. We know you intend to do this here. We have shown you to Suusthek.”

“What does that mean?” asked Terrence. “We have shown you to Suusthek.”

“Oh, sorry. My mistake,” said Augie. “Not ‘show’. It’s ‘delivered’. ‘We have delivered you to Suusthek’. Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

“We have dealt with you in good faith,” said Terrence.

“Your blood runs warm. You cannot be trusted. We have heard your talk. Szuss can hear your speech. He hears how you want to rule the land.”

“Bugger!” shouted Terrence.

Sarkkik hissed again.

“He says ‘now you die’,” translated Augie.

Terrence turned around and walked two steps then turned around again. Then he pulled out his forty-five revolver and shot Sarkkik in the head. It seemed as if the reptilian would fall backwards for a moment, but this was prevented by his tail. He rocked back, then from one side to the other, and then collapsed in a heap. Before Sarkkik had hit the ground, Terrence had fired a second time, and Szuss had a hole through his skull as well. He fell forward onto his alligator-like face.

More than a mile away, a deep rumbling sound rose up. It was a low gurgling, growling noise. It came from the massive army of lizardmen and it grew louder and louder as five thousand warriors joined in.

“Formation!” shouted Augie. “Get into formation!”

The soldiers rushed to form two lines, one behind the other, ninety men wide. The formation looked pathetically small compared to the line of reptilians that dominated the landscape.

“First rank, kneeling positions!”

The front row of soldiers knelt. The rear row stayed standing.

“Fix bayonets!”

Each soldier pulled a wicked looking dagger from a sheath on his belt and attached the six and three quarter inch blade to the end of his rifle.

The throaty sound of the lizardmen continued for several minutes. Suddenly and seemingly without a signal, it stopped. Then like a wave moving from the ocean onto the beach, the lizards surged forward. They moved quickly, at a sort of slithering trot, brandishing their stone-encrusted swords as they came. And they were silent—eerily silent.

“Ready!” called Augie. “Aim!”

“Fire!”

The one hundred eighty soldiers fired their rifles in unison and more than a hundred reptiles fell to the ground. The hole created in their moving line quickly filled in with others of their kind, and kept moving forward.

“Ready! Aim! Fire!”

The soldiers fired again, and another hundred reptile warriors fell. Running headlong into thundering death, the lizardmen directly in front of the humans began to falter, while to either side, they surged forward. Terrence had holstered his pistol and pulled the thirty caliber rifle from his shoulder.

“Uuthanum rechthinov uluchaiia,” said Labrith, and a lightning bolt, beginning at his fingertip, spread out shooting through the bodies of a dozen reptile warriors.

“Fire at will!” shouted Augie. The soldiers began to pick their own targets.

“Watch your flanks!” he shouted. Fanning out slightly on either side, the humans began firing on the lizardmen coming in from the sides.

“Uuthanum beithbechnoth,” said Labrith, and a missile of magical energy darted from his fingertip, striking one of the lizards square in the chest, killing him. A half second later a second magical dart shot forth, and then a third.

Seconds later similar magic missiles shot from the lizardmen’s lines, hitting two of the soldiers. Terrence aimed his rifle in the direction from which they had come. The reptiles had their own magic user. He was easy to spot too. Unlike the others whose greenish skin was painted black or red, he was covered in blue. Terrence shot him through the throat.

Suddenly the lizardmen stopped coming and dropped down into the tall grass. So sudden and so well-coordinated was the move that it seemed that they had just vanished into thin air.

“Hold your fire!” shouted Augie. “Are they crawling? Watch the grass!”

The men kept watch where the lizardmen had disappeared, but it was as though they had never been there at all. Suddenly on either side of the humans, dozens of reptilian warriors stood up. Still more than fifty yards away, they heaved short spears using spear-throwers. These devices were shafts with a handle at one end and a spur at the other against which the butt of the spears rested. The spears flew high into the air and then down onto the human soldiers. Six men were hit in the chest or the head and fell to the ground silently. One was hit in the shoulder and one in the stomach, and both of these fell to the ground screaming. Several of the humans fired in return, but the lizardmen had dropped to the ground immediately after launching their missiles.

“Steady!” cried Augie. “Shoot when they show their heads!”

“Prestus Uuthanum,” said Labrith.

Several dozen more reptile warriors on either side of the humans and eight or ten in front of them stood up and launched their spears. This time almost half of them were killed either before or after they were able to cast their projectiles. Half a dozen of the spears that were thrown bounced off an invisible shield in the air above the soldiers, but five more men were hit. This savage and deadly game continued as again and again, lizardmen stood to launch spears on their clever little spear throwing sticks and the humans attempted to shoot them with their rifles before they could do so, though sometimes settling for shooting them afterwards.

Terrence heard Labrith casting other spells, though he didn’t see what effect they had. He was busy dealing death with his rifle and was inwardly pleased with the knowledge that so far at least, every bullet he had fired, had met its mark. Though they were causing far more casualties than they were taking, it was a nerve-wracking business, and some of the men were beginning to grouse and swear.

“Steady men,” said Augie. “If we break, they’ll pick us off. Stand fast.”

The lizardmen to the right jumped up—not a few dozen spear throwers, but hundreds rushing forward with swords. The humans began rapidly picking them off, pumping new shells into the chambers as fast as they could fire. The lizardmen advanced, but at a cost of several hundred. Suddenly they dropped back into the grass.

“Watch your other side!” called Augie.

“That was a test,” said Labrith. “They’re testing our firepower.”

“Kafira. We must have killed nearly a thousand already,” said Augie.

“That only leaves four thousand to go,” said Terrence, looking at the bodies of more than forty of his men, dead or dying.

The spears flew into the air again, this time in even greater number than before. Ten more men fell. Next to him, Terrence heard Labrith scream and saw him fall to the ground. One of the spears had pierced his right kneecap and was sticking about sixteen inches out the backside of his leg.

The lizardmen to the left jumped up and ran forward, just as those on the opposite side had done before. This time fewer were shot as there were both fewer humans left to fire and they were less ready than before, despite having experienced the previous rush. And just as before, the reptiles dropped back down into the tall grass.

“Ready men!” shouted Augie. “Watch for the spear throwers!”

“To the most beautiful… woman in all of Birmisia.” He paused in the middle of his toast as Saba, walking back to the shore caused the wooden dock to sway unpleasantly to one side.

“I hope that’s me,” said Egeria.

“Of course it’s you.”

Saba returned a moment later. This time he pulled a small cart, which Yuah was pushing from the other side. Despite the wheels getting caught on the wooden planks of the dock a time or two, they managed to wheel it to the table side. The cart carried a large bowl with a tossed salad. While Saba walked back to the shore, Yuah dressed the salad and served it into white bowls with thin blue lines trimming the edges.

“Is this a subtle indication that impending events are approved of by your family?” asked Egeria.

“It’s not a subtle indication that you are young enough to be my daughter.”

Both Egeria and Yuah burst out laughing.

“Sorry,” said Yuah. “Pretend I’m not here.”

A moment later she was gone and they ate their salad.

“This is lovely,” said Egeria, looking at the sun setting across the bay. “I knew I could count on you.”

By the time that they had finished the salad course, darkness was beginning to overtake them. Saba returned and lit two candles in the center of the table. Egeria sniffed the air.

“They’re magic.” Zeah answered the unasked question. “They are supposed to keep the insects away.”

“Excellent,” she nodded.

Zeah raised his index finger, in a “watch this” gesture. Reaching into the pocket of his coat, he pulled out a small cylinder. He tapped the end on the table. Nothing happened. He turned it around and tapped the other end. Immediately, dozens of tiny lights shot out and began to dance around the table in the air.

“Ooh,” said Egeria.

“Yes,” said Zeah. “The romance of fireflies without the unpleasantness of their being insects.”

Saba collected the salad bowls and salad forks and Yuah served them their supper. Pleased with Mrs. Finkler’s cooking two nights previous, Zeah had engaged her again and given her liberty to cook the most spectacular thing that she could come up with. She had produced a pork shoulder roast with a crunchy crust, seasoned with salt and pepper, and served in a dark sauce, made from the roast stock, meat broth, dark beer, onions and carrots. This was accompanied by plump dumplings and red cabbage. Though different from anything he had eaten before, Zeah enjoyed the meal. This was notwithstanding the fact that he thought it might come up again at any moment.

“This is a lovely meal,” said Egeria.

Zeah nodded.

“I can’t wait to see what you have planned for dessert.”

Dessert was indeed spectacular and again was something that Zeah had never seen before, let alone eaten. It was a custard that just about matched Egeria’s dress, made from black and red currants, raspberries, strawberries, and cherries cooked in juice with starch as a thickener. It was topped with clotted cream, flavored with vanilla. From that evening forward, the taste of the dessert was intricately linked in Zeah’s mind with the image of Egeria carefully spooning the confection into her perfect lips. He also remembered the monstrous splash created by some horrible submarine beast as it burst from the water in the middle of the bay and his fervent hope at the time that the potency of Zurfina’s spell preventing such beasts from coming near the dock remained in effect.

As Egeria approached the last bit of her dessert, Zeah picked up the small cylindar he had used to create the magical fireflys. He tapped the device twice on the table and said “bechnoth”. The dancing little lights that had been a fixture during the meal began to coalesce over the water. Within twenty seconds they had formed letters spelling out “marry me”, except they didn’t quite spell out “marry me”. The second m was a z, so the magical fireflies spelled out “marry ze”.

“Bugger and blast,” said Zeah.

“Marry Ze,” said Egeria. “Yes, I will.”

Ssichutuu was probably not nearly as frightening as his chief. He did not for instance appear to be wearing any part of a skeleton as decoration. He also did not carry any obvious weapons, save a small stone knife with wooden handle. Nevertheless, Zeah Korlann found his new companion every bit as frightening at the tyrannosaurus which stalked the forests of the region. Ssichutuu was a little over six feet tall and looked more than a little like an upright alligator. His deep olive skin had few obvious scars or discolorations, marking him as a younger member of the fifty strong group of visitors. He kept his dewlap for the most part tucked up against his neck. The truly unnerving thing was the fact that his yellow eyes never seemed to leave Zeah for long and they almost never blinked.

Most of the natives had left the compound to go on a hunting expedition with Master Terrence, but ten had stayed to observe the lifestyles of the newcomers. Each of these temporary visitors had two colonists to look after them. Zeah and Saba Colbshallow were both escorting this particular lizardman or lizzie around. Saba had already nicknamed the creature Sichy. The aborigine took a keen interest in almost everything that they were doing. They walked along the shore and watched the finishing touches being put on the dock’s crane, which once finished began lifting the last of the heavy cargo from the battleship. They walked up the hill, now mostly denuded of trees, which was being spread with gravel to form a roadway. At the top of the hill, they watched the construction of the barracks. Ssichutuu seemed fascinated by the smoothness of the wood used so they walked back down the hill, just south of the dock to observe the power saw slicing logs into boards.

At lunch time, the lizardmen were brought together along with their hosts around a large table just inside the great protective wall. Two foot long log segments were turned on end to be used as chairs. This was functional enough for the colonists and even better for the natives than real chairs, which interfered with their thick tails. A kind of shish kebob, with pieces of meat, onions, and potatoes was served. The reptiles eschewed the vegetables but ate the meat happily enough. Zeah suspected that they would have preferred it raw, and maybe aged to the point of rotting.

Afterwards the humans watched as the lizardmen gave a demonstration of their method of creating stone blades from the local flint and obsidian. They used large rocks to break off long slender flakes and then used pieces of bone to chip tiny bits off of these flakes and make them even sharper. When they were done, they attached the now very sharp stone blades to handles of wood. Ssichutuu presented his completed knife to Zeah and indicated by hand signals that he should keep it as a gift. The former butler marveled at the keen edge. He didn’t think that even the steel knives brought from Greater Brechalon could match them. The real advantage of manufactured tools would be their durability.

Late in the afternoon, the hunting party returned, carrying massive amounts of dinosaur meat. Once again there was a great feast, with members of both races eating large amounts of the new world’s unusual meat. The natives seemed to have the ability to pack away gargantuan portions of food. Zeah overheard Saba remarking on this to Professor Calliere.

“I believe it to be a function of their reptilian nature,” replied the professor. “They can eat great amounts of meat at one time and then go without for perhaps weeks. I’m sure that this will be of benefit to us once they begin fulfilling their purpose as our natural servants.”

Zeah didn’t pay too much attention to the professor’s pronouncement—in truth, he seldom paid a great deal of attention to what Calliere said—but this time it was because of the presence of Egeria Lusk at Calliere’s side. She wore a teal brocaded dinner gown with large gold buttons from the neck to below the waist, and a straw boater with a teal ribbon around it.

“You look lovely Egeria,” Zeah thought he probably sounded as though he was gushing, but he didn’t care.

“Thank you, Zeah,” she said. “I must say you look ruggedly handsome.”

Zeah looked down at himself. He had been wearing the same type of khaki safari clothing that the soldiers wore. In fact, he had requested a set of the clothing from the mercenary company supplies when he found that he would be spending the day playing tour guide to an oversized lizard. He had to admit that the color accentuated his tall, thin form. And he thought the stone knife blade worn at his belt made him look manly. He took her hand and led her away from the crowd.

“I haven’t seen much of you the past two days,” he said.

“Don’t expect to see much of me the next few days either,” she said. “The Result Mechanism is being brought ashore tomorrow and the professor will need help getting it up and running. After that I need to input the measurements from the survey.”

“The child’s presence is not required,” said Lieutenant Staff. “We haven’t scouted the area yet. We don’t know how safe it is.”

“She is going.” Zurfina stood up and walked toward the passageway that led to the other side of the ship. Senta followed at her heels with the steel dragon around her shoulders.

On the port side of the vessel a launch was already in the water. Captain Dechantagne, Lieutenant Dechantagne, or Augie as Senta thought of him, and Lieutenant Baxter sat waiting along with a dozen soldiers in khaki uniforms with rifles slung over their back, and a dozen sailors dressed in white to man the oars. A temporary staircase had been erected on the side of the ship, which led from the upper deck, down six flights, with landings at the four lower hatchways, and terminating just above the waves. Once Zurfina and Senta had descended the stairs and stepped into the launch, the boat was pushed away from the ship, and the sailors lowered their oars into the water. The sorceress and her apprentice were the only females in the party.

The bay was calm and the water was still, reflecting the many clouds in the sky like a picture. Even the oar strokes of the sailors did not disturb the smooth surface for long. None of the men spoke, and the honking of the iguanodons could be heard in the distance, along with an occasional loud bellowing roar.

“Gawp,” said the dragon.

It didn’t take long for the boat to reach the shore, a twenty foot wide band of rocks and gravel separating the water from the thick redwood forest. The sailors raised their oars straight up and Captain Dechantagne and several of the soldiers jumped out and pulled the boat up onto the gravel. Then everyone else climbed onto the land.

“What do you think Baxter?” asked Augie. “This looks like a good place for a dock right here. We can use the wood growing all around, build the dock and extend it straight out into the water thirty or forty feet, and build a couple of warehouses right up here.

“We’ll have to check the depth, but it seems fine,” replied Baxter.

Leaving six of the sailors with the boat, the rest of the party moved past the shore and into the woods. The redwoods were enormous. Some of them were twenty feet or more in diameter at the base. Senta thought it would be ace if one could be hollowed out and made into a house. There were plenty of small plants growing beneath the massive trees, but not so many that it was impossible to tramp through. Once away from the shoreline, the land rose up quickly.

“It’s hard to tell with all these trees, but it looks as though the initial survey was right on,” said Augie. “This ridge runs right out on the peninsula. We can build the lighthouse at the tip, and the fort on that hill to the right.”

“The peninsula is what, about four miles long and a mile wide?” asked Terrence.

“Yes, though there is a narrow spot in the middle of the peninsula, where it’s only as wide as the ridge, maybe a half a mile.”

“How far is the river?”

“About six miles east.”

“Why not build closer to the river,” wondered Lieutenant Baxter.

“The Manzanian isn’t like the Tiss or the Green River in Mallontah. It’s not navigable even around the mouth. Twelve miles upstream you find the first of a half dozen known cataracts. In the short term at least, this little bay will be much more valuable to the colony than the river would be. There are several small streams around here for water and we can pipe in more as needed.”

When they had walked up a few hundred feet, the land flattened out and opened into a clearing. Here was another great group of iguanodons, with several members of another species of dinosaur meandering along with them. This was a low, heavily built, mottled brown creature about twenty feet long, covered with thick plates of boney armor. Its beaked head resembled a horned lizard, with short, thick horns arranged around its face. At the end of its long tail, it sported an enormous two-lobed club.

“I wonder what the Mormont called this one,” wondered Captain Dechantagne. “Clubadon?”

“It’s called an ankylosaurus,” said Augie.

His brother looked at him in surprise.

“I’ve been here before, remember? I wonder if it could be domesticated? I’ll bet that thing could pull a pretty heavily laden wagon.”

Captain Dechantagne shrugged, then stopped and pointed.

At the far end of the clearing, the foliage parted and a massive red face pushed its way into the open. It was followed by the rest of a large blocky head, twenty five feet above the ground. Slowly the entire creature emerged from the woods. Two tiny forearms dangled uselessly, but two giant, clawed hind feet carried the beast, a great black body, balanced at one end by the enormous head and at the other end by a long, sweeping tail. It gave an awful roar and rushed forward to take a horrendous bite out of the back of the closest iguanodon. The iguanodon honked balefully and ran several steps, but it was wounded so grievously that it sank to the ground from shock and blood loss. The reptilian tyrant strode over to its victim and administered a killing bite.

“Bloody hell,” said Augie.

The steel dragon suddenly launched itself into the air. The chain attaching it to Senta pulled taut and jerked her off her feet. As she fell to the ground on her knees, a weak link in the chain parted, sending the dragon flying up toward the trees in the general direction from which they had come. Senta jumped to her feet and took off running after her wayward charge.

“Come back here!” she called.

The little dragon paid no attention to her as it flapped its way through the redwood branches. Senta ran as fast as she could, but was soon outpaced. She ran down the embankment which they had walked up earlier, but then turned as the dragon flew parallel to the shore. With a flash of steel, he shot up into the canopy and she lost sight of him. Stopping, she looked around.

“Come here boy!” she called.

She waited but there was no reply. She called again.

“Squawk!” The noise came from her left and she turned to view its source, but it wasn’t the dragon. It was some kind of bird, just a little bit too short to look Senta in the eye. It was covered with hairy feathers, yellow near its small arms, green everywhere else. Its tail stretched straight out almost five feet behind it. Each of its two feet had a five inch claw, curving upward, totally useless for locomotion, but frightening. Its long, flat, very unbirdlike snout was filled with large, widely spaced teeth. Senta had never seen a bird with teeth before. It looked rather like a killer turkey. The beast cocked its head to one side and regarded her with a large black eye.

“Squawk!” it cried again.

“Squawk!” came an answer. Senta turned and saw another bird to her right. Then she heard rustling behind her and turned and saw a third and fourth bird. The second bird hopped toward her and snapped its jaws. The first bird hopped closer too. It perched on a large rock and the big claws on either foot clicked against the stone as if it were testing them or sharpening them. She didn’t hear them, but Senta thought that the other two were probably moving closer as well.

“Uuthanum!” she shouted, pointing her finger at the first bird.

At the same moment she cast her spell, the creature and its closest companion both launched themselves at her. A cone of frost spread from Senta’s fingertip spraying the first small creature, covering it with ice and knocking it to the ground near her feet. The second beast was knocked out of mid-air by a metallic streak shooting from the sky. The steel dragon latched onto the bird’s neck with its needle sharp teeth, sending them both tumbling across the ground.

Senta looked down at the half-frozen bird by her feet and the one struggling to free itself from the grasp of the dragon, now holding onto it with all four feet in addition to its jaws. She completely forgot about the other two behind her until she felt a weight on her shoulders and sharp claws digging into her skin. She expected at any moment to feel the mouthful of teeth or the big upward curving claw. Instead, a flurry of gunshots rang out through the redwoods.

The bird let go of her shoulders and fell to the ground dead. Senta turned to see the Dechantagne brothers and two riflemen. They had shot the bird off her shoulders. They had also shot the other bird behind her and the half frozen bird that had just been able to stand up before it was killed. They hadn’t needed to shoot the beast fighting with the dragon. It was already dead

“Gawp!” said the dragon, licking the blood from its whiskers with a long forked tongue.

Captain Dechantagne rushed forward and scooped Senta up into his arms. He looked at the tears in her dress and the tears in her skin beneath.

“These don’t seem too bad,” he said. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Senta shook her head.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” said one of the riflemen.

“Velociraptors,” said Augie.

Zurfina stepped out from behind a tree, walked over and picked up the dragon, which wrapped itself around her shoulders just as it had Senta’s before. Captain Dechantagne sat Senta down and faced the sorceress.

“You’re this little girl’s guardian,” he said angrily. “She shouldn’t have been brought ashore.”

Zurfina stepped toward him and placed her forefinger on his chin.

“Guardian,” she said derisively. “My dear Terrence, we’re going to be living here. Children are going to be eaten.”

It was chilly and wisps of mist hung in the air. On the distant shore, beyond the wall formed by impossibly tall redwood trees, large spruces, massive maple and bay trees, filled in between by thick huckleberry and azalea bushes and wave upon wave of rhododendron, some giant and no doubt frightening monster roared out a challenge. From its tiny animal carrier on deck, the little dragon answered.
“Gawp!”

Senta stepped onto the deck and knelt down by the box. Zurfina had dressed her in another weird outfit, this one a floor length black dress with a white collar. A black ceramic rose right in the front of her neck that made it difficult to look down at the high-heeled black sandals on her feet. Of course Zurfina had on a matching dress, and cut a striking figure standing along the railing of the forward deck with the Captain, Miss Dechantagne, the Dechantagne brothers, and other notables, all of whom were dressed in light summer clothing, as they surveyed the coastline.

“Pet!” said the dragon.

“Yep, it’s me,” said Senta. “I’m going to take you out, but you have to have your leash on.”

The dragon hissed. She opened the door of the carrier and the dragon climbed out onto the top. He turned his head and pointedly looked the other direction as she snapped the little chain onto the ring around his ankle. Once the little clip had snapped shut, Senta attached the other end of the chain to a bracelet on her right wrist.

“See there. We’re both chained by the wrist. Nobody’s the boss.”

“Gawp,” said the dragon, and then spreading its wings to balance, it climbed up her arm and onto her shoulder. It slithered down to lie across her shoulders, one hand and one foot holding onto her dress and one hand and one foot holding onto her hair. Senta stood up. The little dragon was now over four feet long from nose to tip of tail, but he was only about six inches thick across the belly and he was surprisingly light.

“What do you want to do?”

“Gawp.”

“Me too. This is sooo boring.”

The ship had been sailing parallel to the coast for the past four days and Senta was getting tired of it. What was the point of sailing all the way to Mallon, if you didn’t get out and walk around on it? Twenty days was more than enough time to explore every square inch of the largest battleship and Senta had spent more than three times that length of time on the Minotaur. Not even murders, gunfights, and drinking wine until you threw up could take away the boredom forever.

“Fina,” said the dragon.

“Alright.”

Senta walked toward the front of the ship. She had gone only about halfway to where Zurfina and the others stood watching the coastline roll past, when a figure stepped out of the shadows. A freckled face and striped shirt quickly identified the shady figure.

“Hey Graham,” said Senta.

“Hi Senta. What’ya doing?”

“Nothing. He wants to go up by the grown-ups.” She indicated the dragon with her thumb.

“Can I come?”

“Sure. Just don’t get too close, ‘cause he’ll bite you.”

“I thought he was tame.”

“You can’t tame a dragon. Zurfina says you can’t tame anything that’s smarter than you are.”

“Who says he’s smarter than me?” Graham was indignant.

“Not just you, stupid. Dragons are super smart. When he gets big, he’ll be able to talk and do magic and all kinds of cool stuff.”

“Brill,” said the boy.

Senta and Graham walked forward, the boy keeping several paces behind her at all times, until they reached the group of adults. Miss Dechantage was wearing a yellow dress with lots of lace and a matching hat, tied below her chin with a lace ribbon. Her dress was almost the same color as the suit Professor Calliere was wearing. It made him look like a very large banana. Mr. Korlann was much more dignified. His grey suit was so light that it would have seemed white, had he not been standing next to Miss Lusk in her white day dress. Senta saw Miss Lusk reach over discretely and touch Mr. Korlann’s hand. Wizard Labrith was wearing a light brown suit and Wizard Kesi, for once not in colorful silks, was dressed the same. They both stood near the back of the group, all four of their eyes boring holes into the back of Zurfina’s black dress. The two Dechantagne brothers were both wearing khaki safari clothes and pith helmets. The older brother looked like he was sick. Finally Father Ian had eschewed his traditional robes for a more modern suit with a clerical collar.

“This is it just ahead,” said Lieutenant Dechantagne, pointing. “You see the bay just here, and this land just beyond is the peninsula.”

“I’ll send word up to the Captain,” said the older Dechantagne brother.

“Children are limited to the aft deck of the ship,” said Miss Dechantagne, noticing Senta and Graham for the first time and looking down her nose at them.

“Children with dragons may go wherever they wish,” said Zurfina, without turning around.

Miss Dechantagne made a clicking sound with her tongue. Miss Lusk gave Senta a wink. Senta and Graham walked to the side, out of the way of the adults and looked at the forest moving past.

“Would you look at that!” shouted Father Ian.

A monstrous creature had stepped out of the trees and onto the shore. It was reptilian, and looked to be more than thirty feet long from its strange beak-like snout to the tip of its long thick, waving tail. It had a bulky body and though it walked on two stocky back legs, only sometimes using its lighter forelegs, it did so completely hunched over, using the long tail for balance. It was an olive color overall, but had yellowish vertical stripes down its back. No sooner had the creature presented itself than another and then another of the beasts stepped from the forest to walk along the beach. Soon an entire herd of nearly fifty of the monsters was tramping across the rocks and gravel. Most were as large as the original, but some were smaller and some were only half as big.

“What the devil are those?” asked Mr. Korlann

“They are a type of reptile common in Mallon,” said Professor Calliere. “They’re called dinosaurs.”

“They’re quite large,” said Miss Lusk.

“I’ve seen bigger,” said Lieutenant Dechantagne.

“There are hundreds of varieties,” continued Calliere. “They are related to dragons, in the same way that lemurs and monkeys are related to human beings.”

Both Father Ian and Zurfina made the same derisive sound.