The Festival of Lanterns in Mallontah celebrated the arrival of Greater Brechalon to the continent eighty-three years earlier.  It was celebrated with a dozen formal parties and hundreds of informal ones, where Long Live the Kingwas sung, usually in slurred drunken voices.  The three-day long festivities were heralded by a parade, in which swinging lanterns held aloft on long poles were a major feature, in between a military marching band, a float made by the Ladies’ Auxiliary, and school children carrying hand-painted Accord Banners.  The Duke and Duchess of Argower rode through the streets in a car with Governor Burnaby and Orr Finby, Mayor of St. Ulixes.

The parade lasted three hours and at the end of that time, Terra begged off the remainder of the day’s appearances, letting Clitus go alone, while she returned to Sovereignty to rest.  When he returned, he found her snoring away in bed.  He roused her for dinner, and she got up and ate, but immediately went back to bed.

“Bob, go find a doctor.  I’m a bit worried.”

“Right away, sir.”

Bob returned an hour later with a smart looking fellow carrying a black doctor’s bag.  He was introduced as Dr. Hambsin, and he examined the Princess, all too briefly to Clitus’s mind.

“She’s dehydrated,” pronounced Hambsin.  “It’s not uncommon in pregnancy.  Her body is producing more blood for the unborn child.  Have her drink more water and she should be fine in a day or two.”

“But she’s been so tired just recently,” said Clitus.

“Many women exhibit signs of fatigue.  It’s all part of the process.  Women are the weaker sex.  This can take quite a toll on them.”

“What a pompous prig,” growled the Prince, once the doctor had left.  “Imagine someone thinking Terra was the weaker anything.  Go out and find me a decent doctor this time.”

“Your Highness,” said Stigby.  “If I might be so bold, you should call for a midwife.  They’re the real experts in this situation.”

“Do it.”

Stigby returned with a middle-aged woman introduced as Mrs. Callen.  Her examination was not much longer than the doctor’s had been, but she insisted that Terra be awakened so that she could speak to both husband and wife.

“The doctor is correct about dehydration and the reason for it.  But you must do more than simply wait for it to pass.  I don’t think the young lady is taking as good a care of herself as she should.”

“I have too many things to see to,” said Terra.

“You must take care of yourself and your baby first,” and when Clitus nodded in agreement, she told him, “and you must see that she does, and force her to when she doesn’t.”

“All right,” agreed the Prince, all the while wondering if he was really capable of forcing Terra to do anything.

“You must exercise, even if you feel tired,” continued Mrs. Callen.  “A brisk walk each day is sufficient.  Get nine hours of sleep each night and take a morning and afternoon nap.”

“That’s too much sleep,” said Terra, with a frown.

“I was about to say that you should keep your naps short.  Only fifteen to twenty minutes.  That way they won’t prevent you from sleeping at night.  Do you drink tea or coffee?”

“Tea.”

“Well, stop.  Water.  Lots of water.  Milk and juices are fine too.  You must eat right too.  You should have extra helpings of eggs.”

“Oh Kafira,” said Terra, turning pale.  “Don’t even say that word.”

“Are any other foods making you sick?”

“No,” Clitus answered, as his wife’s hand was still over her mouth.

“Then lean meat and beans, peas, and nuts can be substituted.  Have plenty of milk and cheese, fish, broccoli and dark leafy greens, berries and whole grains, and dried fruit.  Alligator pears are also recommended.”

“She’s really had a craving for black pudding and bacon.”

“The black pudding is fine.  Have you moved your bowels today?”

Clitus laughed.  His young wife who never seemed embarrassed about anything, suddenly looked mortified.  She shook her head ever so slightly, her large eyes even larger than usual.

“Cut back on the bacon then.  I would recommend some prunes or dried pineapple to get things moving again.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Callen,” said Clitus, walking her to the dock where Stigby waited to take her home.  “I feel much better knowing what to do.”

“She seems in good health overall.  Follow my directions and with Kafira’s help, she’ll have no trouble.”

An hour later, Stigby returned from dropping the midwife home.  He handed the Prince a jar filled with dried pineapple slices.  With a smile, Clitus carried the container to his wife’s room.  He was surprised to find her awake and writing at her desk.

“Here you go,” he said, holding out the pineapple.  “This should get you all sorted.”

She narrowed her eyes but took the jar.

“Tomorrow, the King’s storehouse is open to the trogs.  It’s an annual tradition but Burnaby thinks we should be there—put a face on the monarchy for the locals.”

“No,” said Terra.

“I can certainly understand you not wanting to go.  I think it might be a good idea for you to stay here and recover.”

“Neither of us should attend.”

“Me neither?  Why not?”

“I just don’t want to go, and I don’t want you to go either.”

“All right, I’ll send word to the governor.  Now, let’s get you to bed.  You heard what the midwife said.”

Police Chief Saba Colbshallow sat at his desk looking over the police budget.  It had already given him a splitting headache.  He could feel the vibrations in the nerves of his neck when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he ordered gruffly.

The door opened, and Police Constable Kendrick stepped in.  His face said plainly enough that he wished he were anywhere else.  Following him into the office were PC Littlefield and Wizard Drewsome.  Littlefield looked determined and Drewsome looked wary.

“Gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need to speak to you, Chief.”

“I assumed that was the case or you wouldn’t be here.”

“I need to speak to you in a professional capacity.”

“Okay.”

“We need to question you,” said Littlefield.

“I see,” said Saba.  “Have a seat then, gentlemen.”

Kendrick and Littlefield took the seats opposite him.  Drewsome stood behind Littlefield’s chair.  He looked like he expected a fight.

“Do you know either Rance or Paisley Gertz?” asked Kendrick, taking a small notebook and pencil from his pocket.

“Very slightly.  I’ve met each of them once.”

“Did you have occasion to visit the Gertz home at 114 Chaukara on the twenty-eighth of Novuary.”

“I did.”

“And why were you there?”

“You and I had discussed the incident there involving Gertz and his wife.  I wanted to get a look at the scene.”

“Did you encounter Rance Gertz at that time.”

“He wasn’t there when I arrived, but he entered after I did.  He accused me of making him a cuckold and then took a swing at me.”

“Did you hit him back?”

“Yes.  I hit him… several times.”

“Did you also kick him?”

“I… did.  Maybe more than once.”

“Did you have an intimate relationship with Mrs. Gertz?” asked Littlefield.

“No,” said Saba.  “As I said, I’ve only met her once.”

“Was Gertz alive when you left the home?” asked Kendrick.

“Yes.  I am certain he was.”

“Was he conscious?”

“I can’t say for that certain,” said Saba.

“It is the opinion of the doctor,” said Littlefield, “that Gertz was killed by a blow to the side of the chest, possibly from a kick, that caused a broken rib to pierce his lung, which then collapsed.”

“I’m sorry, Chief,” said Kendrick.  “We’re going to have to pass this information on to the Justice of the Peace.”

“That’s all right, lad,” said Saba.  “Do your duty.”

“We have to ask you for your badge,” said Littlefield.

“That you do.”  Saba stood up and retrieved his badge from its place in his pocket, handing it to Kendrick.  “And you need to remind me not to leave town.”

“That’s right, sir.  Don’t leave town.”

* * * * *

“Kafira’s bloody twat!” screamed Senta, jumping to her feet and spilling the bowl of water that had been sitting in her lap.

The lizzie that had been dusting the bookcase behind her quickly exited the room.

Raising her hand, she snapped her finger.  Immediately her housedress was replaced by leather bustier, leather pants, and knee-high boots.

“Rezesic idium uuthanum tortestos paj,” she said, and disappeared from her parlor to reappear in front of the red brick five-story building that was the Port Dechantagne Police Department.

“What the hell is wrong with you, you daft idiot!” she yelled at Saba as he came down the steps.

“I’m not in the mood, Senta.”

“No kidding!  What kind of mood are you going to be in when you’re rotting away in jail?  Or maybe when they hang you!”

He took her by the elbow and pushed her around the corner of the building and beneath a pear tree.

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed.

“You couldn’t just lie?” she growled.  “You couldn’t tell one or two little lies?  I wasn’t there, constable.  I don’t know what you’re talking about, constable.”

“It’s against the law to lie to the police.”

“It’s against the law to beat someone to death too, but you’ve perfected that!”

“Just… don’t,” he said.

“Do you want to go to jail?”

“I did what I did, and they know about it.  They have evidence and probably at least one witness that I was there.”

“They don’t have anything,” she hissed.  “I scraped away every trace of you being there, and anyone who saw you has lost all memory of that day.  All you had to do… All you had to do was lie.  Can’t you tell a lie?  It’s easy.  I do it all the time.  Why yes, I love your hair.  Why no, I didn’t shag your husband.  Why no, I absolutely have not completely obstructed a police investigation for a total bloody idiot!”

“This is my business,” he said.  “Keep your nose out of it.”

He turned and walked away.

“Fine,” she said, and then snapped her fingers, teleporting back home.

Iolana stepped down from the front seat of Ascan’s car and dropped onto the carpark in front of the Dechantagne mansion.  She stopped and looked back at him longingly.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six,” he said.

He smiled but his eyes looked sad.  He reached into the back and handed her suitcase down to her.

“You sure you don’t want me to carry it in for you?”

“I’ve been carrying it myself the entire trip,” she replied.  “I’ll be waiting at six.”

With a nod, he pressed his foot down on the pedal and shifted into forward gear.

“I love you,” she said in a whisper she was sure he couldn’t hear.

“I love you too,” he said, and then drove off.

She turned and started up the stairs of the huge building.  It looked nothing like the home that she had grown up in—the one that she had left ten years before.  But there was a lizzie waiting to open the door for her.

“Garrah?  Is that you?”

The lizzie hissed affirmative and looked at her appraisingly.

“It’s me– Stahwasuwasu Zrant.”

The lizzie blinked and rolled his yellow eyes around.

“You are so different,” he said, in the native tongue.  “You are all grown up.”

“Yes, I am.  I’m glad to see you here still.”

“I am senior lizzie now,” he said, rising to his full height.  “You will need a new name.  You are no longer azrant.”

“Well, that’s for another day.  Are any of the soft-skins up?”

He gave a very human shrug.

Nodding, she stepped past him and entered the vast foyer.  She stopped to take off her hat and coat and hang them up.  As she did, she came face to face with the portrait of her father, hanging on the wall.  She looked at for a minute, remembering her father’s voice.

“Hello,” said someone.

She turned to see a woman with reddish blond hair and alabaster skin, dotted here and there with a few freckles.  She had thin lips, but very large green eyes.  She was wearing a silk housedress.

“Hi.”

“You’re Iolana, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and you must be Maria.”

“Welcome home,” said Maria, stepping forward and giving her a great hug.  “How are you?  You must be exhausted from your trip.”

“I’m fine.  I slept a bit on the train.”

“Well, come into the parlor,” she said, taking Iolana by the arm and guiding her to the right.

“I’m glad you’re here,” said Iolana.  “Otherwise I would be entirely lost.”

“This room should be a little familiar.”

They stepped through a doorway into the parlor, and it did look somewhat familiar.  It was about the size and configuration that the parlor in the original Dechantagne house had been.  Even the furniture was similar, though not exactly the same.

“Augie wanted it to feel like home,” said Maria, guiding them to the sofa and sitting.

“Where is Augie?”

“Oh, he’s still in bed.  His usual time to get up is half past seven.”

“You’re an early riser?”

“I always have been.  What about you?”

“I usually am too.  I think I got that from my father.”

“Your mother is an early riser too,” observed Maria.  “She should be down in a few minutes.  She usually has tea before going to the office.”

“How many do you have living here?”

“Not enough,” said Maria, with a laugh.  “It’s just Augie and me, your mother, my dear mother-in-law, and Gladys.  Now there’s you and your lizzie friend.”

“Esther should be along shortly,” said Iolana.  “We’ve also brought a friend with us.  Her name is Willa Armice.”

“How lovely.”

“Iolana.”

Iolana turned to see her mother stepping into the room from a heretofore unnoticed doorway.  She was dressed in a black pin-striped day dress.  Iolana had seen her mother just a year and a half earlier but was shocked to see her hair gone almost entirely grey.

“Mother,” she said getting up and walking around to kiss her on the cheek.

“How was your journey?”

“Satisfactory.”

“Good.  I’m on my way to the office.  Maria can show you your room.”  She turned on a heel and passed through the room and on to the foyer.

Iolana let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Lovely,” said Maria.  “I can see that she’s happy to have you home.  Come along and I’ll do just as Auntie suggested.  That way, you can freshen up before breakfast.”

She took Iolana’s arm again and led her out the doorway through which Iolanthe had entered, down a long marble tiled hallway to an elevator.  There was a lizzie in the elevator car with its clawed hand on the controls, but Maria paid him no attention.

“I hope you don’t mind that I had your room set up in the west wing.  That’s where Augie and I have our rooms.  He said you would prefer it that way.  Our mothers are both in the east wing.”

“Our mothers… Oh, you mean Auntie Yuah.”

“Yes.  Sometimes it feels like she’s very far indeed.  Other times, not so much.”

 Iolana, Esther, and Willa Armice stood looking out the observation window of the promenade deck as the great airship S.S. Windlass descended toward St. Ulixes, Mallontah.  Below them, rapidly approaching, was the airfield.  All around it, stretching out in every direction were thousands of buildings made of mud brick.  They were still too high to make out the people.

“You see?” said Iolana.  “It’s just as I said—dreadful.”

“It reminds me of a great ant hill or something,” said Willa.  “They don’t really look like proper houses at all.”

“Very astute,” said Iolana.  “Don’t worry.  We won’t be staying long.”

“There you are,” said a voice behind them.

They turned to find Mrs. Nithercott in travelling clothes.

“I’ll be stepping off as soon as we land.  My son will be waiting for me.  I just wanted to say goodbye to you young ladies.  It was a pleasure being your dining companion.”

“Thank you,” said Iolana.  “Good luck.”

“Remember to look us up when you get to Birmisia,” added Esther.

“I shall,” she replied, and then turned and left.

“Shouldn’t we be getting ready too?” asked Esther.

“Everything is packed,” said Willa.  “As soon as we land, we can get off.”

“And get to the train station as soon as possible,” said Iolana.

The trio did not leave the airship as soon as it landed however but stepped down the gangplank about an hour later.  Even though the three females each carried suitcases, they were followed by two stewards, loaded down with luggage.  Once on solid ground, they were approached by a man in a suit.

“Lady Iolana.  Lady Esther.  Miss.”

“Oh, Mr. Stigby, isn’t it?” observed Iolana.

“Yes.  I’ve been sent to invite you to the royal yacht.”

“We were rather hoping to get right to the train station.”

“Princess Terra would very much like for you to join her for a meal, and possibly stay over one night.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if we were staying on the yacht,” said Esther.

“Perhaps not,” said Iolana.  “Very well.”

“I’ve engaged a car for your luggage,” said Stigby, “but it’s honestly faster if we just walk.”

“Yes, I’ve experienced driving here,” said Iolana.

After supervising the loading of their luggage aboard the steam carriage, the four left the airfield and started through the hardened mud streets.  It was immediately apparent that there was a problem.  As soon as one of the trogs laid eyes upon Esther, it began flashing the crest on top of its head and letting off a loud whistling noise.  Soon others of its kind began doing the same thing.  The little group had gone no more than a hundred yards from the airfield when they found themselves being followed by at least a hundred trogs, flashing their fins up and down and whistling out the loud, keening sound.  The crowd grew with each step.  They came closer and closer, and seemed ever more menacing.

“In here,” said Stigby, directing the three females into a seedy looking tavern, and then up a rickety staircase.

“Do you think if we stay in here for a while, they’ll go away?” asked Willa.

“I doubt it,” said Stigby, looking out the window.  “I think we need some help.”

He pulled a cigar from his coat pocket, and bit off the tip.  Then he lit a match and began to smoke it.

“Do you think this is the time for that?” demanded Iolana.

“Oh, I do.”  He took a deep puff into his lungs and then blew it out.  The smoke coalesced into a ball, hovered for a second, and then disappeared.

“A magic cigar?” wondered Esther.

“Yes.  For use in only the most extreme emergencies, and I think this qualifies.  Now, I’m going down to make sure those trogs stay outside until reinforcements arrive.”

“I’m sorry about this,” said Esther, once he had gone.

“This is not down to you,” said Iolana.  “I told you this was a horrid place.  I should have foreseen something like this.”

Suddenly a loud report, that could only be a gunshot was heard on the floor below.  Willa let out a squeak.

“What’s going to become of us?”

“Everything will be fine,” said Iolana, pulling a pistol from her handbag.

The door opened and she took aim at it.

“Don’t shoot, my lady,” said Stigby, sticking his head in.  “It’s just me.  Come downstairs.  It’s safe now.”

They followed him back down the narrow stairway to find a platoon of heavily armed sailors surrounding the building.  A young officer doffed his cap and bowed, though he frowned at Esther.

“Lieutenant Call, at your service, ladies.”

“Lieutenant, Lady Iolana, Lady Esther, and Miss Armice.”  Stigby made the hasty introduction.  “We’d like to get them safely to Sovereignty, as soon as possible.”

“Of course.”

Lieutenant Call and Stigby guided the two women and the lizzie quickly down the street.  They were surrounded on all sides by the sailors, who kept their weapons at ready.  The trogs continued their whining noise and the flashing of their fins but dared not come close.  In an hour, they reached the docks and the two Brech ships.

“It seems you’ve had some trouble,” said Terra, standing beside the great rope that moored H.M.S. Sovereigntyto the dock.

“Good Kafira, you’re fat!” said Esther.

“Come in.”

Maria opened the door to her husband’s bedroom and stepped inside.  Augustus was in the process of undressing.  He was still in his slacks and shoes but wore only his undershirt above the waist.  Maria, wearing in a lavender housedress, sat down on the side of his bed.

“You’re home early,” she noted.  “You usually stay quite late when you’re with Zoey.”

“She wasn’t feeling herself and decided to turn in early.”

“That’s too bad.  It’s not very fair to you though.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, she’s left you high and dry.”  Maria giggled.  “I just realized how naughty that sounds.”

She reached forward and unfastened his belt and then began unbuttoning his trousers.  “You’ll have to let me know if I’m doing this correctly.  I’ve never done it before.”

“Apparently,” said her husband, closing his eyes, “there really is no wrong way to do it.”

Ten minutes later, he lay on the bed, his shoes still on, but his pants and underwear down below his knees.  Maria crawled up and nestled her head into his shoulder.

“I came in here to ask you about our baby,” she said.  “What do you want to name him or her?”

“If it’s a boy,” he said, “he must be named after my father.  That’s a given.  I hadn’t thought about a name for a girl.  I suppose I just assumed that I would have a boy first.”

“What do you think about naming her after your auntie?”

“I have no problem with that in theory, however you must know that it would earn the everlasting ire of my mother.”

“Your mother’s name could be her second name—Iolanthe Yuah Workville Dechantagne.”

“You’re determined to have your family name as the third name?”

“It is traditional,” she said.  “What else would it be?”

“I have my father’s two middle names.”

“Yes, but if we did that and it was a boy, then he’d have the exact same name as your father.  That’s unlucky.”

“That’s true,” he admitted.  “All right.  Terrence Augustus Workville Dechantagne or Iolanthe Yuah Workville Dechantagne.  Both of those sound like auspicious names.”

“Yes, they do,” said Maria, snuggling deeper into his shoulder.

* * * * *

“I had a hell of a time finding you,” said Zoey, entering the west wing breakfast nook.  “Why aren’t you in the dining room?”

“We just wanted some quiet time away from the rest of the family,” said Maria.

“I’m sorry,” said Augie.  “I just assumed you would sleep in, as you weren’t feeling well last night.”

“I feel much better now.”

“Sit down then.”  He raised his hand and snapped his finger.  “Gahk du dak khikhiino sowasuthurock!”

“Thank you,” said Zoey, sitting next to him, opposite Maria.  “I didn’t eat much last night and now I’m famished.  Are you both done?”

“Yes, but we don’t mind sitting while you finish,” said Maria.  “You don’t have plans with Augie today, do you?”

“No, silly.  You and I are supposed to go shopping for baby things.”

“Oh, yes.  I suppose I have that baby brain people keep talking about.”

A lizzie delivered a huge platter to the table in front of Zoey.  There was enough food to feed three men—six fried eggs, white pudding, black pudding, at least half a pound of bacon, beans, tomatoes, potatoes, and a stack of crumpets.

“What’s baby brain?” asked Augie.

“It’s a sort of pregnancy-induced fog which many women claim to experience,” explained Maria.  “Some say they become more forgetful, oversensitive, and less attentive.  I admit, I always thought that it was balderdash.”

“Sounds like everyday woman’s brain to me,” opined her husband.

“You’re right of course,” said Maria, smiling not at her husband’s words, but the way they made Zoantheria’s brow furrow.

“Well, I’m off to the office,” he said, getting to his feet.

He stepped around the table to kiss his wife on the cheek, and then returned to kiss Zoey.  She turned her head, to catch his mouth with hers, but he caught her cheek anyway.  Then he was gone.

“What’s the matter with him today?” wondered the dragon in human form.

“Oh, his mind is just on the office.”

“Well, I don’t like it.  His mind should be on me, or at least on us.  He could show more interest in his baby.”

“That’s just how men are,” said Maria.  “He did decide on names though.  It will be Terrence if it’s a boy, and Iolanthe if it’s a girl.”

“Oh.  Well, I guess it’s too much to expect him to name her after me.”

“Your name, beautiful though it is, is far too exotic for a little Dechantagne.”

“I suppose,” said Zoey.  “Do you know where you want to shop today?”

“Well, we have to outfit the nursery, so it’s Banneker & Bentley first, and then I need some attractive maternity clothes, so it’s off to Deneuve’s Fashions.”

“I’ve been shopping at Mrs. Bankerly’s,” said Zoey.

“Well, we can stop there too,” said Maria.

The door opened, illuminating Senta in a rectangle of warm light spilling from within the house.  Benny Markham’s pleasant face looked out at her.

“Senta, what are you doing out this late?  Come in.  Come in.”

“Thank you, Benny,” said the sorceress, stepping inside.  “Am I too late for dinner?”

“No, we were just getting ready to sit down.  Come into the parlor.”

“Senta!” cried Hero, spying her from the other room, and rushing out to greet her.  “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I should have.  It’s very rude of me just to drop in like this.”

“Nonsense.  You’re always welcome.”

Hero took her by the arm and guided her from the foyer and into the parlor.  The sofa and chairs were filled with family members.  In addition to the Markham children: fifteen-year-old Benny Jr., fourteen-year-old Hannabeth, and thirteen-year-old Honor, there were Benny’s brother Sam Markham and his wife Ernst, who just happened to be Senta’s cousin.  Their two sons were on the floor by the fireplace, stacking blocks with Bryony, the Markham’s youngest daughter.

Senta and Ernst were the only blondes in a room of brunettes.  In fact, the similarities in their appearance went far beyond hair color.  They looked enough alike to be sisters, though there were eight years between them.

“Hello, Senta,” waved Ernst.

“Hello, Ernst,” smiled Senta.  “Where is your new baby?”

“She’s in the other room asleep.”

“And Benny,” Senta continued.  “I understand that you’ve sold your oldest into bondage.”

“If you mean she has a job, then that’s right.  She’s working tonight at Café Idella.”

“What are you about, cuz?” wondered Ernst.

The sorceress waved her hand in a circle near her knees and a wooden chair with a bright red cushion on the seat appeared in the spot.  She sat primly.

“I was just in the mood to visit a friend, and I can always count on Hero to have something delicious planned for her family’s evening meal.”

“You won’t be sorry tonight,” said Benny.  “Hero’s made her famous sauerbraten.”

“I hope it turns out,” said Hero.

“I hope there’s enough,” said Senta.  “I wouldn’t want to take food out of your children’s mouths.”

“Oh, there’s more than enough,” said Hero, with a wave.  “We also have Potatoes Kasselburg, apple red cabbage, and pea fritters.”

“Pea fritters aren’t very Freedonian.”

“We’re Brech now, and besides, the children love them.”

“I’m not criticizing,” said Senta.  “I like pea fritters too.  Just don’t start making toad in the hole.  You know how I feel about it.”

“You just missed your daughter,” said Benny.  “She took Hannabeth and Honnie out to lunch.”

“Then we went for a boat ride in Radley Staff Park,” added Hannabeth.

“That sounds lovely,” said the sorceress.  “I wholeheartedly approve of my daughter having as much contact with young Markhams as possible.  I’m sure it’s a civilizing influence of which she is in sore need.”

“Sen’s a lovely girl,” said Hero.  “She’s just like you were at that age.  Now let me make sure that everything’s ready.”

As she hurried toward the kitchen, Ernst stood up as well.

“I’ve got to check on Tillie.”

“Let me go with you,” said Senta, following.

They stepped through a doorway to a bedroom, where the baby was lying in the center of a large bed.  She was still tiny, though almost five months old, with pink skin and fair hair.

“She’s very pretty for a baby,” said Senta, bending down to look at the tiny pink lips and long, dark lashes.

“Yes, she is,” agreed her mother.  “I was surprised that she has blond hair, since both the boys take after their father so much.”

“Is she his?”  Senta stood up to look into the shocked face of her cousin.

“Of course she is!” hissed Ernst.  “How could you even ask me that?”

“Please.  Don’t act all holy.” Senta leaned in close.  “I know you took a turn with your sister’s husband.”

“That was just the… well, three times, but that was years ago.  And Didrika has a big mouth.  I would never do that to Sam.”

“Do what?  Shag another man?”

“Yes.  Well, no.  I mean, I won’t do it again.  I mean I would never give him another man’s child.”

“I see.”

“Never speak of this again,” insisted Ernst.  “What if Sam were to come in here.”

“Oh, don’t worry.  No one can hear anything we say.  You could scream that I was murdering you and nobody would hear you.  It’s completely safe.  Anyway, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Well you did.  The whole subject upsets me.  I feel so guilty.  I love Sam so much now.  I mean I did before, but… I guess I forgot for a while.”

“I could take him for a ride—even things up, if that would make you feel any better,” said Senta.

Ernst looked at her for a long moment.

“Hmm.  Maybe.  I don’t think you would be able to seduce him though.  He’s a much better person than either of us.”

The lizzie butler led the Baxter family through the halls of the palatial Dechantagne mansion.  Bryony was so preoccupied looking at the portraits and landscape paintings that lined the hallway that her husband had to pull her along by the hand.  They finally stepped into the huge dining room with the great U-shaped table.  The other diners were already seated, but Lord Dechantagne and his wife both stood up and hurried over to greet their new arrivals.

“We’re sorry for being so late,” said Baxter.

“Oh, not at all,” said Lord Dechantagne.  “We’ve only just sat down.”

“Bring your lovely family right over here,” said Lady Dechantagne, taking Mrs. Baxter by the arm and leading her along.

Thirteen-year-old Sen followed, leading five-year-old Kerry by the hand.  With a nod to the master of the house, Baxter finished up the procession, two-year-old Addy in his arms.  Five spaces had been saved just for them on the west side of the room.  There was even a highchair already in place in the middle.

The only other diner on their side of the table was a lizzie.  Baxter stopped and stared.  It wasn’t unusual seeing a lizzie.  There were probably tens of thousands of them in the city, working as laborers or servants.  This reptilian had painted its skin with yellow and blue designs, wore colorful feathers around its shoulders and waist, and had heavy necklaces and bracelets of what could only have been solid gold, all of which identified it as a wild lizzie from somewhere far beyond Birmisia Colony.  Why was it so close to his family when there was an empty chair on the other side of it?

Lord Dechantagne suddenly appeared between them.  He spoke in the lizzie dialect, only a few words of which Baxter could follow.

“This is Princess Tokkaran of Yessonarah.”

“Princess?” wondered Baxter.

“Well, they don’t really have a word for what she is, but she’s the offspring of kings, and she’s from the their most prominent house, so I took the liberty.”

“She’s awfully small.”

“Not to worry, she’s been tame for well over a year now.”

Baxter rearranged the seating, sending his wife to sit at the far end with Kerry, while he sat next to the lizzie, with Sen on his other side.  He knew enough to make a gesture of greeting, which he did, by placing his hand in front of his Adam’s apple, palm out.  The creature responded in kind.

Just around the corner of the table to Baxter’s right, and just beyond the lizzie was the aforementioned empty seat.  Beyond that, sat Yuah Dechantagne, Lord Dechantagne, and then his wife Maria, and finally Governor Dechantagne-Staff.  Mr. and Mrs. Vishmornan filled the last two seats on the south.  Baxter knew the Vishmornans well enough.  Mrs. Vishmornan was cousin to Sen’s sorceress mother.

Arrayed across the east side were Mr. and Mrs. Fitzroy Norich, and two of Mrs. Norich’s brothers—Claude and Julius Stephenson.  Both Stephenson boys had dates, pretty young women.  One, Baxter was sure he didn’t know, but he was surprised to recognize the other as DeeDee Colbshallow, Sen’s half-sister.  He looked to see if Sen had noticed and caught the two girls waving discreetly to each other.

“Sembor Uuthanum,” said Sen a moment later, touching him on shoulder.

“What was that about?”

“Now you can converse with your dinner companion.”

Baxter glanced back in the other direction to find the diminutive lizzie watching him.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said.

The lizzie hissed out a reply, but he could hear the translation in a voice that sounded very much like a teenaged girl.

“I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Oops,” said Sen.

She got up and stepped around Baxter to cast the same spell on the lizzie, touching it on the shoulder.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he repeated.

“A respectful hello,” said the lizzie.  “This smaller one is a witch woman?”

“I suppose so,” he said, glancing back at Sen, who grinned at him.

“I have been to the site of Suusthek and have seen the destruction.  She is not the witch woman who brought down the sky upon it?”

“Um, no.  That was her grandmother.”

A line of lizzie servants carried out salads, which they placed before each of the diners.  It was not a traditional salad of greens, or even one of diced fruits or vegetables, but instead featured whole grapes, strawberries, orange wedges, and sliced bananas, interspersed with small cakes made with sweet potatoes.

“How interesting!” exclaimed Bryony from Baxter’s left.

The salad was certainly different.  Baxter enjoyed the sweet dressing covering the fruit but didn’t like the way it made the little cakes soggy.

He glanced over to the lizzie to see that she wasn’t eating much.

“Salad not to your liking?”

“It is delicious, but I have learned to eat sparingly at the human table, since we are fed so often.”

“Very judicious,” said Baxter.

“The Little King said that you were the chief archivist.  That is a very important position.”

“Yes, I suppose that describes what I do.”

“My mother is High Priestess as well as King, so I understand the importance of preserving knowledge.”

The Duke and Duchess of Argower breakfasted on the deck of H.M.S. Sovereignty.  They had spent the past several nights aboard the docked ship, after having stayed only one at the Portnoy Hotel.  Although it was the finest such establishment in St. Ulixes, it was far below acceptable standards, according to Princess Terra.  Prince Clitus would probably have endured it had he been traveling alone, but his pregnant wife’s comfort was uppermost in his mind.

“So, what are you about today, Brownie,” he asked her, aware that for the first time since they had arrived, they had a day free of ceremonial duties.

“After breakfast, I’m going to a dress fitting,” she said.  “In the early afternoon, I have several telephone calls scheduled, so I will be stopping at the telephone station.  I may do a bit of shopping while I’m there.  I understand that it’s not far from the market square.”

“Another dress fitting?  It seems to me you’ve had at least one dress fitting every day we’ve been in Mallontah.”

“You did promise me a thousand dresses, Bully.”

“I was using hyperbole,” he said.  “I didn’t expect you to actually want one thousand new dresses.”

“Well, as it turns out, I’m not buying a thousand,” she said, picking up a slice of bacon.  “I do think I shall end up with twenty or so.”

“Well, I suppose that’s all right.  I don’t know about you going to the local market though.  That might not be safe.”

“Did you want to criticize every bit of today’s itinerary?” she asked, frowning.  “Do you have something against telephone calls too?”

“Of course not.”  He paused to search for a slice of white pudding, but the last two were on his wife’s plate.  “I’m just concerned about my wife and unborn child.  That is a man’s prerogative.  If you want to go to the market, then go.  Just make sure to take adequate security with you.”

“I’m taking Ryan with me,” she said.

“Ryan?  Ryan Stigby, do you mean?”

“Do you know any other Ryans?”

“Yes,” he replied.  “I probably know eight or nine men called Ryan.”

“Are any of them here with us?”

“Well, no,” he admitted.  “It’s just that it’s not appropriate to call him by his first name.”

“We call Bob by his first name,” she pointed out.

“I’d prefer not to be dragged into your arguments, Your Highness,” said Bob, spreading lemon curd on his toast.

“Where is Stigby anyway?” wondered Clitus.

“I believe he left the ship to visit the post office,” said Bob.  “He wanted to send a package to Mrs. Stigby.”

“Mrs. Stigby?”

“His mother.  Lovely woman.  Makes a magnificent fish pie.”

“So, what do you have planned for the day, Bully?” asked Terra.

“I’m going to stay onboard and enjoy the peace and quiet this morning, but I have a hunting date with Lord Erstwhile tonight.  We’re having dinner together first.  Depending on how late we return, I’ll either come back here or spend the night at his house.  In any case, I have to be ready for the meeting with the aborigine leaders tomorrow morning.”

“It seems that you need more security than I do,” said Terra.  “The animals in Mallon are far more dangerous than any you might encounter in Sumir.  I imagine the most dangerous thing you could run across in Brechalon is a fox, whereas we have tyrannosauruses in Birmisia.  I understand they don’t live here in Mallontah, which is the only reason I shall agree to let you go without me.”

“What will people think if they find out that I need my pregnant wife to watch over my safety?”

“If they know your wife, they’ll think you’re pretty smart,” said Bob.  “Don’t worry, Your Highness.  I’ll be with him the whole time, and we’ll have a couple of savvy, well-armed sailors with us on the hunt.”

“Keep an eye on him,” said Terra.  “You know how he is.  He can’t help being heroic in the face of danger.  Hold him down if you must.  I don’t much care if people I don’t know are eaten, but I do care about him, and you too.”

“What did I miss?” asked Stigby, climbing up from the lower deck and sitting in the only empty chair.

“Well, you missed all the food, for one thing,” said Clitus.   “You also missed my wife’s instructions to Bob, but you are just in time for mine to you.  Keep an eye on the Princess today, particularly in the marketplace.  You know how she is.  She can’t help being impetuous.  Hold her down, gently, if you must.  Other people may be trampled, shot, kidnapped, beaten, or robbed, but bring her back safely.”

Terra gave her husband a bland look.

“People shop in the marketplace every day.  I doubt there will be much excitement to tell about.”

“Good to hear,” said Clitus.

“Surprise!” shouted well over a hundred people as Colonial Governor Iolanthe Staff stepped into the Dechantagne ballroom.

Purple and white streamers covered the walls and large arrangements of aster and anemone flowers were everywhere.  High up on the wall across from the entrance was a very large number 52, made of the latter.

Iolanthe looked around at almost everyone she knew.  Some were turning toward the lizzie servants who were passing out dinks, but most were watching her.  She could see Yuah and Gladys just at the left edge of her field of view.

“Thank you, everyone,” she said.  “Please drink and eat and enjoy yourselves.”  Turning and fixing a stern look at Yuah, she asked, “Whose idea was this?”

“It was Maria’s, of course,” said Gladys, nodding toward the far end of the room.  “She is the lady of the house.”

Iolanthe spotted Maria standing next to Augie, who was filling his plate from a wide variety of finger foods laid out on a long banquet table.  They were the center of a little group that included Zoantheria, the Stephenson boys, and a number of others in their age group.  Iolanthe strode quickly across the room.  She could sense Yuah and her partner in crime following.

“Maria,” Iolanthe snapped.  “What is the meaning of all this?”

“Well, it is your birthday, Auntie.  Such an event calls for a celebration.  I thought you would like it.”

“I don’t like it,” said Iolanthe.  “I love it.  Come and give me a hug.”

The two of them embraced and then kissed each other on the cheek.

“You are such a dear girl, really more of a daughter than a niece.”

“I feel the same way,” said Maria, “though I shall continue to call you Auntie.  Otherwise it would be confusing.  Isn’t that right, Mother?” she asked Yuah.

Yuah turned and started for the room exit, only to be intercepted by her father and his wife.  Gladys stared through her wire-framed glasses at Maria for a long moment before turning and following.

“The food is really excellent, Auntie,” said Augie.  “My wife will be happy to prepare a plate for you.”

“I shall eat in a bit, thank you, Augustus.  Right now, I have some people to visit with.”

“Oh, our musicians are ready!” cried Maria, hurrying to the southeast corner of the great room, where even now the members of a string quartet were taking their places.

Iolanthe turned and walked in the other direction toward a group that included her secretary Mrs. Wardlaw.

Zoantheria slid over and pressed herself against Augie’s side.  She picked up a tiny pasty from his plate and fed it to him.

“You’re Auntie seems pleased with the party.”

“I had my doubts,” he said, “but apparently Maria knew her mind on the subject after all.”

“Are you excited about your baby?”

“Yes, of course.  It’s still some months away.”

“And are you excited about seeing your sister?”

“Not in the same way.”  He smiled.  “I have to admit that I’m quite chuffed about Earthworm coming home. She’s been away too long.”

“You two were very close.”

“Closer than any brother and sister I’ve ever known.  A product, no doubt, of our being so close in age.  It will be good very to see her.”

Across the room, Iolanthe was finishing the small talk she had been engaged in with Mrs. Wardlaw and turned to see Yuah trying to disengage from her father so that she could leave the room.  She was about to follow her and force her to stay, when a hand on her shoulder stopped her.  She turned to find Senta in a green evening gown.

“Lovely party.  I admire the way you’ve embraced your years.”

“Senta.  This is perfect timing.  My sister-in-law is trying to sneak out.  Can you make her stay?”

“I could, but I like her… much more than I like you.”

“How about Gladys?” asked Iolanthe.  “How do you feel about her?”

“Oh, Miss Molly?” smirked the sorceress.  “I could definitely play with her a bit.  I suppose if Yuah gets caught in the crossfire, no real harm.”  She pointed toward the two women, who by this time had reached the exit.  “Uuthanum.”

Iolanthe watched as the two women stepped out the north entrance, only to immediately reenter the room from the east entrance, a good fifty feet away.  Yuah turned around immediately only to reappear again at the on the north side of the room.  Gladys apparently figured it out first and entered the room from where she was, to meet Yuah in the ballroom’s center.

The two consulted, casting sideways glances toward where Iolanthe still stood with Senta.  Then they stepped toward the food tables and began talking with Zoey.  The dragon in human form glanced toward the sorceress and then shook her head.

“Trying to get her to dispel my magic?” said Senta.  “I think not.  I think not.”

As the musicians began to play, Iolanthe and Senta were joined by Maria.

“Hello, Senta.  I’m so glad you were able to be here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it.”

“How was it, Auntie?  I’m sorry about advertising your age, but she did insist on it.”

“That’s all right,” said Iolanthe.  “It’s not as if it was a state secret.  Thank you for letting me in on their little plan to humiliate me.”

“You know it was that Gladys, really,” said Maria.

“Perhaps,” said Iolanthe.  “Don’t you worry about it.  Come.  Let’s go talk with the Stephensons.”