The dragons seemingly have returned to the world and are once again in vying for power. Bessemer the steel dragon is worshipped by the reptilian lizzies, while the evil Voindrazius tries to put together a pantheon that he will control. Zoantheria, the coral dragon, feels pulled in all directions. Wanted both by Bessemer and Voindrazius, she is called to a world she has never known, her mistress, the sorceress Senta Bly encouraging her to take up the mantle of goddess. Her heart, however, is pulling her in a different direction, toward the young viscount Augustus Dechantagne. Which will prove stronger– love or destiny? Both Senta and Augie have their own problems, hers with teaching her wayward eponymous daughter the ways of magic, and him dealing with the yoke of leadership and a headstrong mother. Meanwhile, far across the ocean, the Dechantagne girls are taking Brech City by storm. Will one of them land a prince?
Senta was standing in front of her house when a car drove through the gate, up the drive, and stopped right in front of her. All four of the occupants stared at her. She was dressed in leather pants and a leather bustier instead of a shirt. This left the two star sigils on her chest in full view. She had recently shortened her hair to chin-length and today it was partially covered by a black top hat.
“Well, if it isn’t the whole Baxter clan,” she said.
Kieran Baxter was driving and Bryony sat in the front passenger seat. In the back, were Sen and little Kerry.
“Daddy is driving us to the dinosaur ranch,” said Sen.
“Well isn’t that lovely. Bryony came along for the ride as well.”
“I’m riding shotgun,” said Bryony.
“Are you all packed, Sen?”
The girl held up a medium-sized purse—lime green to match her walking dress.
“Even so,” said her mother, holding up a similarly sized bag in black. “Come along, Felicity!”
A young troodon, it’s brilliant green feathers the most colorful thing in the neighborhood, ran from behind the shrubs and pressed its toothy snout up against the sorceress’s leg.
“She’s getting big!” said Kerry excitedly.
The little dinosaur zeroed in on his voice and leapt up onto the side of the car. Bryony gave a little shriek, but the creature did nothing more than hop into the boy’s lap and curl up. Kerry cooed to it and petted its head.
“Boys and dinosaurs have a natural affinity,” opined Senta. “I suppose I’m in the rear?”
“Too right,” said Bryony, as her husband stepped down to help the sorceress climb back between the children.
Soon they were all on the road, heading south. Bryony turned and looked back at Senta.
“You’ll be gone two weeks?”
“I’m thinking more like three. We must account for travel time.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Don’t worry,” said Sen. “I’ll keep her out of trouble.”
It was a journey of more than an hour to the Charmley Dinosaur Ranch, but at last they arrived. Baxter helped Senta and then Sen down from the car. The girl kissed all three of the Baxters good-bye, and lifted the sleeping dinosaur from Kerry’s hands.
“Be a good girl,” Baxter told her.
“We’ll be back before you know it,” said the sorceress.
Baxter just nodded and climbed back into the car. Without another word, he drove away with his family.
“We’re off on a great adventure,” Senta told her daughter. “Let’s go.”
They walked to the front door of the large ranch house. The troodons in the front yard gave them no trouble, though Sen carried Felicity in her arms, just in case. Wenda Charmley met them at the front door.
“Senta. Right on time. Walter is waiting for you in back. Come on through.”
She led them through the house and out the back door to a broad, open porch. Walter was leaning against one of the columns, drinking soda water from a glass bottle. He looked no different than he had when he was Warden. Standing just beyond the porch, munching on greens piled in a wheelbarrow, was a huge iguanodon. He was fully forty feet from nose to tail and weighed in at nearly five tons, and he was outfitted with a howdah on his back.
“Is that..?” wondered Senta.
“I wouldn’t trust you to any other. Stinky really is the best. He’s an old hand at carrying passengers.”
“I haven’t seen him since…” The sorceress looked around. “I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
Novuary 1907 had been a long time before—fifteen years. In another week and a half, it would be fifteen years to the day. Stinky had been much smaller then and Senta had been so much younger. She had been seventeen and madly in love. Then a steam carriage had exploded. It was the same explosion that had cost Honor McCoort her leg. It had injured Stinky the iguanodon, and he had fallen on his rider—Graham Dokkins. Graham Dokkins, the boy that Senta had loved so fiercely.
“I took him out of the city after the accident,” said Walter. “He hasn’t shown any real fear of cars, but I didn’t want to take the chance. Since then, he’s carried a howdah to Yessonarah many times, and once he went all the way to Tsahloose.”
The sorceress stepped up to the great beast. He lifted his head, and she rubbed it between his eyes.
“Do you remember me, Stinky? I remember the morning Graham came home and you were waiting for him. That was the same day that I got my first sigils.”
The iguanodon snorted, leaving a wad of mucus the size of a large man’s fist on her stomach.
“He remembers me,” she said, cleaning herself up with a simple spell. “Come along, Sen.”
“Hut hut,” called Walter, stepping up beside her.
The iguanodon dropped down onto his belly.
“You’ll still need a little help getting up.” He pointed to a rope ladder handing down from the howdah. “Once you’re up there, pull it up with you, so it doesn’t get tangled on anything. There’s plenty of room for you to sleep in the howdah, so you really needn’t get out until you reach your destination, except maybe to stretch your legs. There’s a chamber pot inside.”
Prince Clitus of Greater Brechalon read through the news release arranged by the palace. It announced his engagement to Miss Terra Dechantagne, and described him romantically asking the young lady to marry him. He let out a long breath.
“There’s only one problem,” he told Mr. Flint, the official palace herald. “I haven’t actually done any of this. I haven’t stood before friends and family and proposed over a dessert of trifle. I haven’t asked her brother for her hand. I haven’t even picked out an engagement ring, let alone given it to her.”
“It’s all being arranged,” said Mr. Flint. “The ring is almost ready. The stationers are finishing up the invitations. The meal has been scheduled. Everything will go according to plan, Your Highness. All you have to do is follow the program.”
“As usual, I’m really not necessary to the proceedings.”
“Nonsense, Your Highness. You are vital. For example, right now, Mr. Caulinghoff is waiting for you to compose the telegram to Lord Dechantagne. He is waiting in the North Wing drawing room.”
“Then I’d best hurry over there.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Clitus took off at a brisk walk down the long corridor.
“One would think that a person awaiting me would be awaiting in the same wing that I was in,” he grumbled as he walked along.
He heard footsteps behind him, hurrying to catch up. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Bob fall into step with him.
“I thought this was your day off,” said the Prince.
“I don’t have a day off when you’re about, Your Highness.”
“What trouble can I get into walking from one end of the palace to the other?”
“Well, it is a long walk.”
“Seems like everyone is rushing to get this engagement on track.”
“Well you don’t want to tarry. Do you, Your Highness?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Just remember, your engagement is going to be a year long,” said Bob.
“Yes, I know.”
“You want to get it started so it will be over as soon as possible. After all, the lady might not want to give up her virginity until her wedding night.”
Clitus came to a stop so quickly that his boot heel skidded on the red carpet runner.
“She did indicate as much to me,” he said with a frown. “One would think it would be enough that we’re engaged.”
“I mean, she already…”
“I know, lad. She gave you a bit of nosh on the yacht. Maybe she’ll be willing to tied you over that way.”
“Come on!” said Clitus, starting off at slightly less than a jog. “We’ve got to get this show on the road.”
“Another letter from Lord Dechantagne,” she said. “Shall I burn it, like the others.”
“Yes,” sighed Zoey, sprawled across the sofa, still in her nightgown though it was well past 1:00 PM. “Wait. No, yes, maybe. I don’t know. No, I want to read it.”
The letter exploded in a bright flash, leaving only a single ember, which drifted down to the floor.
“Oops. Too late.”
“Fine. I really didn’t want to read it.” The dragon in human form leaned back and moaned pitifully. “How could he treat me so terribly?”
“You really must snap out of it, Pet.”
“But he broke my heart!”
“Your dragon heart will not be broken by anything as unimpressive as a human boy.” Senta sat down next to Zoey and ran her hand over her hair. “Augustus is just a boy, and boy’s are even worse than men. They are capricious, self-involved, immature little creatures. Forget him. You’ll be better off, I assure you.”
“But I love him.”
“You need to get away for a while. Next week, I’m leaving to spend a fortnight at Dragon Fortress. You must come with me. We’ll do nothing but relax and indulge ourselves. Those lizzies will faun all over you, you know. They’ll treat you like the goddess you are.”
“You just want to push me at Bessemer.”
“I don’t. I don’t even know that he’ll be there. He spends most of his time these days visiting the lizzie cities. And if he is there, you don’t have to see him if you don’t want to. I promise.”
“Last time I went there with you, I was kidnapped.”
“Well obviously, that won’t happen again,” said Senta. “Between the two of us, there’s nothing in the world to threaten us. Now, I’m going to Bryony’s for tea. Why don’t you get dressed up and come with me?”
“I don’t feel like eating and I don’t feel like watching you torture Bryony.”
“Suit yourself,” said the sorceress, standing up. “Rezesic idium uuthanum tortestos paj.”
With a pop, Senta disappeared from her parlor, only to reappear on the front step of the Baxter’s lovely little cottage. She rapped her knuckles on the door. There was no answer. She repeated the procedure, but still nothing. She turned the doorknob, but the lock was engaged. With a snap of her fingers, she magically unlocked it. Then turning the knob, she let herself in.
The house appeared empty. She walked slowly through the parlor, into the dining room, where she noted the table was set with place settings, but no food was in evidence. She turned and walked down the hallway until she came to a door. She opened it and looked in. Three-and-a-half-year-old Kerry Baxter sat in the center of his bedroom floor, playing with tin soldiers. He looked up.
“Hello little Baxter,” said Senta. “How are you today?”
She reached into the air and a chocolate biscuit appeared in her hand. She bent down and handed it to him.
“Where is your mommy?”
“And where is Sen?”
“She’s not here.”
Turning, Senta continued down the hall, opening another door to see Sen’s empty room. The next door opened into the bathroom. That left only one more door at the very end of the hallway. Senta stopped and knocked quietly. She heard something on the other side, but couldn’t tell if it was words or something else. She opened the door and found Bryony lying across her bed, fully clothed.
“Why Bryony Byenthal,” said the sorceress, stepping to her side. “Why ever are you just lying around when you could be up fixing my tea?”
“I had just finished cleaning up breakfast, when I got the most dreadful headache.” The woman’s voice was barely audible and she began shivering as soon as she stopped speaking.
“Teigor tachthna uuthanum Senta,” said Senta.
“What are you doing? Are you casting a spell on me?”
“Not on you. Rather on my errant offspring. She should be along soon.”
“You don’t need to bother her. I’ll get up and make tea in just a moment.”
“Oh, I’m afraid you won’t,” said Senta.
She reached down and wiped two fingers across Bryony’s fevered brow, bringing them up to examine the blue perspiration. The stricken woman watched, her eyes growing even larger and rounder than usual.
“I have the sweat. I’m dying. Senta, you must promise to take care of Kerry for me. I know you’ll lure Kieran back to you. Just promise me to take care of my little boy too.”
“I promise I will take care of your family,” said Senta, as she reached up into the air and plucked out a large brown vial.
She pulled the cork from the bottle with her teeth and then bent down and poured the contents into Bryony’s mouth. Standing back up, the sorceress tossed the bottle onto the floor in the corner.
At that moment, Senta’s daughter came bursting into the room.
“What have you done to her, you cow?”
“Don’t talk to me like that, you little bint! I’ve done nothing to her, except save her life of course. Bryony Baxter has…”
“Baxter,” said the girl. “Wait a minute. What did you say?”
Yuah opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for just a moment. She couldn’t wait for the new wallpaper to arrive. It had been ordered all the way from Brech City. Turning to the side, she found Gladys looking back.
“How did you sleep?” asked Yuah.
“Good. So did I.”
“Last night was wonderful,” said Gladys. “Are you sure you’ve never been with a woman before.”
“I’ve never been, but I’m familiar enough with the terrain.”
“You’re not bothered?”
“Of course not.”
“You don’t find women attractive though,” Gladys observed.
“Attraction is a funny thing, when you stop to think about it. I remember being caught up in it when I was young. Every time I looked at Terrence, I felt all squishy. Now that I’m older, everything seems so tame. I see the men chasing after women and the women chasing after men. It seems we want what we don’t understand. A fanny seems like such an uninteresting thing. All things considered, there are many more pleasant parts of a woman—the curve of her chin, the long line of her leg, a thick mane of hair. Yet to a man, it must seem as alien as walking on the moon. And yet he wants it.”
“He just wants it, because it’s convenient to stick his thing in,” said Gladys, disgust written on her face. “Without it, he’ll stick it anywhere it fits.”
“I confess to a certain amount of repulsion regarding the form of a man,” smiled Yuah, “until the event was upon me. You’ve never been married, so you’ve never known the feeling.”
“One doesn’t necessarily follow the other.”
“So you have been with a man?”
“When I was a girl, my parents died—cholera, you know. My brother was older, and already had a family in Mallontah, so it was too far to go to join him. My uncle took me in, but it was not a charitable act, as he was not a good man. He forced himself on me. I thought it was just something I had to endure, and I did, until he wanted to pass me around to his friends. I left, and even though I was only fifteen, the opportunities for work after the Freedonian War allowed me to support myself.
“The Freedonian War?” wondered Yuah. “How old are you?”
“I was born during the Feast of Kafira Mass, 1893.”
“Why, you’re just a girl! I thought you were older than twenty-nine.”
“I’m twenty-eight, actually,” said Gladys.
“Well, I never was very good at arithmetic,” replied Yuah, leaning over and kissing her on the lips. She slid out of bed. “Let’s go down to breakfast. You’ve certainly been good for my appetite.”
At the dining room table, the two women were surprised to find no one else there. There was, however, plenty of food—toast, fried potatoes, tomatoes, white pudding, and something new. Cook had prepared an egg dish filled with peppers and onions and covered with sharp melted cheese.
“This is something like an omelet,” observed Gladys, taking a bite, “but it’s much fluffier.”
Yuah waved for Kayden to step over.
“How was this prepared?”
“It isss lizzie dish,” he said. “In oven.”
“Baked eggs? Who would have thought? Do you know what it’s called?”
“Their language is so strange,” remarked Gladys. “You must tell Cook that this is wonderful though.”
“Yes. Give her our complements,” Yuah told the lizzie major domo. “Tell her that she may prepare this as often as she likes.”
“What are we about today?” asked Gladys.
“I’m going visiting, though you are not required to accompany me.”
“I want to come.”
“Very well then.”
An hour later, the two women stepped off the trolley and into the street in front of Egeria’s house. Brech custom and law gave the husband control over all of a woman’s possessions upon marriage, so technically, the home belonged to Yuah’s father. However, Egeria had owned it before their marriage and, more importantly, it so reflected her style and taste that Yuah found it impossible to think of it in any other way than as Egeria’s house. Her father felt the same way about it.
They were greeted at the door by Egeria’s lizzie, who led them to an empty parlor.
“Where is the lady of the house?”
“I tell her you here,” said the lizzie.
“Shall we sit while we wait?” Yuah asked Gladys.
The both sat on the sofa, golden with a pattern of pink tea roses.
“I feel so out of place here,” said Gladys. “It’s like sitting in a museum.”
“I imagine one gets used to it,” said Yuah.
“Indeed one does,” said Egeria, coming down the stairs. “I wasn’t expecting visitors, so you must excuse me if I’m unprepared.”
Dot Shrubb and Olivia followed in line behind her. The three of them made a striking appearance, all with red hair—though Dot’s was more coppery—pale skin, and brilliant white dresses. Olivia carried a bright green young troodon, slightly larger than a chicken, in the crook of her arm.
“It’s the most I’ve eaten in a while, I can tell you,” said Yuah.
She stopped abruptly when she found Zoantheria sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper. She was, of course, in her human guise, wearing a black and white day dress, her long blond hair cascading halfway down her back.
“What are you doing in my house, monster?” snapped Yuah.
“Have you seen this?” asked Zoey, ignoring the question and holding the paper so that the banner headline was visible. “HRH CONSORTS WITH BIRMISIAN WILD WOMAN!”
“That’s not the Gazette,” observed Gladys.
“No, it’s a Brech City paper.”
“Answer my question,” Yuah ordered.
“I just thought you might want to read it, as the Birmisian wild woman in question would appear to be your daughter.”
“Terra Posthuma Korlann Dechantagne. That’s nice. They got all four names. That is your youngest, isn’t it?”
Yuah stomped forward, snatching the paper from Zoey’s hands.
“We’re not done,” she hissed, and then started reading. “Dressed like a man! Face paint? What is wrong with that girl? Augie should never have sent her to that lizzie city. It’s made her mind weak. Still, you would think she would have mentioned something in her last letter about going to the opera with a prince—or sent a telegram.”
“Children,” said Zoey. “What can you do?”
“If Augustus wants to consort with you, I can’t do anything about it. He’s a grown man. But until he returns, I want you out of my house.”
“Must we have all this discord?” said Augie, suddenly stepping into the room.
Zoey jumped up and ran three steps into his arms, nearly knocking him over. In a fierce embrace, they pressed their mouths together.
“Really?” said Yuah. “In the parlor?”
“Mother,” said Augie, disengaging his lips, if not the rest of his body. “Zoey is welcome in this house at any time and will be treated with the same courtesy that all guests receive.”
Zoantheria smirked at Yuah, whose eyes and mouth went very thin. A moment later, it was Zoey’s face with a very similar look as Dr. Megistus followed the young lord into the room.
“What are you doing here!” she hissed.
“Do you know one another?” asked Augie. “He’s not a relative, is he?”
“He’s another dragon?” wondered Yuah. “In my house?”
“Everyone settle down!” ordered Augie. “Gladys, take my mother upstairs. She’s overwrought.”
“I’m not overwrought and I’m not going anywhere!”
“And you,” continued Lord Dechantagne, looking at Zoey. “Yes, he is a dragon, but he’s one of the good ones, like you.”
“What makes you think he’s good?” she snarled.
“This,” said Augie, holding up a brown vial.
“What is it?” asked Gladys.
“It’s an advanced healing draught. Not only is it more powerful in every respect than the regular potion, Dr. Megistus assures me that it will cure the Blue Sweat.”
“I made no such assurance, Lord Dechantagne,” said Dr. Megistus. “I merely said that I believe it will cure the dreaded disease.”
“I have faith in you, Doctor.”
“What the hell is the Blue Sweat?” wondered Zoey.
“Just a deadly disease that affects us soft-skins,” said Yuah. “Nothing for you to concern your spiky head about, I’m sure.” She turned to her son. “How much does it cost? Will average people be able to afford it?”
“It’s expensive,” said Augie. “Four hundred marks per bottle.”
“Golly,” said Gladys.
“That’s why I’m paying for the first one hundred bottles, to be kept by Mother Aunie for anyone stricken. And we shall keep a couple of bottles here too.”
“You can’t spend 4,000 marks on healing draughts,” said Yuah.
“First of all, it’s 40,000 marks, and secondly, yes I can.” He turned to Dr. Megistus. “We must go celebrate. I’ll buy you the finest steak in the colony. Or maybe a whole cow, eh?” Then looking at Zoey. “You’ll come too, dearest?”
“I don’t think so.”
“All right. I’ll see you later then.”
He ushered the Doctor out of the room and back toward the foyer from which both had emerged.
The three women stood for a moment staring back and forth between one another. Then Zoey stomped off toward the foyer. Gladys and Yuah both sat down, the former in the chair and the latter on the sofa. Yuah looked at the paper, still in her hand.
“My family,” she sighed.
Yuah opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for just a moment. It was the same gold pattern fresco that it had been for years, matching the intricate pattern of pink roses between gold bars on the wallpaper and the gold floral carpeting on the floor. It was high time for a change. Turning to the side, she came nose to nose with Gladys Highsmith, who was looking back. Without her glasses, her eyes looked larger and sadder than normal.
“How did you sleep?” asked Yuah.
“Not very well, I’m afraid.”
“Why not? I slept wonderfully.”
“What will you do now?
“What do you mean?” wondered Yuah.
“Are you going to throw me out or have me arrested?”
“Why would I do that?”
“That’s what they usually do,” said Gladys, sadly.
“Do you think I’m some little girl that you took advantage of?” asked Yuah with a laugh. “Maybe you think I was so overwhelmed with passion that I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“People do things in the heat of passion that they wouldn’t otherwise do.”
“No they don’t. That’s just an excuse. Or maybe it’s true for stupid people or those who are not particularly self-aware… my God, I sound just like Iolanthe.” She kissed Gladys on the forehead and then sat up. “You should go back to your room.”
“You don’t want anyone to see us together.”
“You have to get ready. We’re going to shrine. You do still want to go, don’t you?”
Twenty minutes later, Yuah entered the dining room and took her place. The others were present, though as yet, no one had been served. A line of lizzies arrived from the kitchen carrying enough food for twelve people, and began serving the four at the table. Yuah watched as her plate was filled with white pudding, sausages, bacon, fried potatoes, grilled tomatoes, beans, scrambled eggs topped with cheese, and toast.
“I am so hungry this morning,” she said.
“We can see that,” said Iolanthe, raising a brow.
“That’s good, Mother,” said Augie. “I think you’ve gotten a bit too thin of late. Better to keep up your strength. And how are you this morning, Miss Highsmith?”
“Very well, Your Lordship.”
“We’re friends now,” he said. “Please call me Augie. After all, you’re dining at my table and living in my house.”
“Yes,” said Iolanthe. “How long is that to be, exactly?”
“I have asked Gladys to live here permanently,” said Yuah. “She is my good friend and will be my companion.”
“Indeed,” said Iolanthe, with a smirk.
“Well, I think that’s wonderful,” said Augie, spearing a piece of sausage with his fork. “Mother can arrange an allowance for you. I sure you know by now that if you spend much time with mother it will include copious shopping.”
“Thank you, Your… Augie.”
Yuah had Walworth drive them to shrine. She wore her new dress—the black one with a small bustle and the high neck, along with her black top hat. Gladys wore a black over dress with white skirts. It was nice, but not the type of thing usually worn to shrine—a bit on the fancy side.
As Walworth helped them down from the car, Yuah stopped to take a look at the majestic building and the beauty that surrounded it. The sun was shining through the trees. The grounds around the shrine were newly mowed and the shrubs had been trimmed. Yuah didn’t even mind that the street sign had Iolanthe’s name on it.
Just outside of the entrance, they ran into Yuah’s father and his wife and young daughter.
“Good day, Papa. May I introduce my friend, Gladys Highsmith? Gladys, this is my father Zeah Korlann, his lovely wife Egeria, and my little sister, Olivia.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Gladys,” said Zeah. “Someone told me that you were staying at the Dechantagne home. Who was it now? I don’t remember.”
“It was Augie,” said Egeria. “He told you at tea the other day.”
“Oh yes. You know, he loves to visit his Grandpa. Some other people could stand to visit a bit more often.”
“If you’ll have us,” said Yuah, “we will come to tea today.”
“You are always welcome, Yuah,” said Egeria. “You know that.”
“Since you have your friend with you, are you going to sit in back with us today?” asked Olivia.
“Lovely,” said the girl, clearly excited. “I’ve so wanted you to sit with us.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” asked Yuah. “For that matter, you could sit up front with me anytime. You are a kindeschrein.”
“Mother says I must sit in the back until I’m sixteen.”
“Then she can decide for herself whether she is a Kafirite or a Zaeri,” said Egeria.
Though Zeah was Zaeri, his second wife was a devout Kafirite. They and their daughter attended both shrine and church. This was possible because the two religions had Sabbaths that were two days apart.
In shrine, though visitors were always welcome, they were required to sit in the back. Children whose fathers were Zaeri, like Yuah and Olivia, were known as kindeschrein and were automatically members of the faith. Children born to a Zaeri mother and a Kafirite father, as was the case with Yuah’s children, had to convert like anyone else who wanted to embrace the Magnificent teachings. As a group, they entered the building and took seats near the back on the right.