Hissussisthiss is a character in Senta and the Steel Dragon, who I haven’t spoken much about.  This seems particularly unfair as he is one of the two title characters in The Two Dragons (although there are actually three dragons in the story).  Hissussisthiss is a dragon as I envision them to be– intelligent, powerful, almost indestructible, worshipped as a god.  Here is a scene from the two dragons in which Senta has a close encounter with the green dragon.

Stopping to rest just after noon, the party had exhausted all of the food that they had carried with them, but Senta had a secret cache that she had been saving for just such an emergency.  Pulling out nine tins of peaches in heavy syrup and nine tins of rooster in wine, she passed one of each to the other members of the party.  They had almost finished eating when a great kafuffle on the plain drew all of their attentions.

A great herd of monstrous paralititans had been making its way through the grasslands, walking roughly parallel to the humans.  More than thirty individuals strong, ranging in size from eight ton youngsters to a massive matriarch bigger than most buildings in Port Dechantagne, they had little to fear even from the tyrannosauruses which stalked along behind them.  Only Mr. Vever observed all of the action, because only he happened to be turned in that direction at just the right moment.  The giant form of the dragon Hissussisthiss fell out of the sky like a meteor, landing right on one of the largest paralititans—a ninety ton dinosaur that was overall about the same size as the dragon.  Though the sheer force of impact might well have done the job, the dragon with one swift movement, bit through the long serpentine neck, decapitating its prey.

Paralititans ran in every direction, sending all manner of smaller dinosaurs stampeding out of their way.  Only the tyrannosauruses, their scarred red heads an ugly contrast to their black bodies, stayed where they were.  Slowly circling, they waited for any scraps that might be left over by the much larger dragon.  The nine members of the party ducked down as quickly as they could and scurried to the tree line, hoping that they would not be seen.  But it was not to be.

Hissussisthiss, his metallic scales reflecting their green sheen, took a bite of the dinosaur carcass and looked right toward them.

“I know you are there.”  His voice was like rolling thunder.  He bit off an entire shoulder of the paralititan and chewed the meat, bones, and blubber.  A spray of arterial blood showed that the dinosaur’s heart had not realized that its owner’s head at least was dead.  “Come out and chat with me while I eat.”

Staff looked around at the others as if to make sure that none were inclined to accept the dragon’s invitation.  None of them were.

“I was not pleased with the magic you used in my city, Sorceress.”  Hissussisthiss took another bite.  Blood ran down his chin.  “It makes my skin crawl.”

“I thought dragons were magical,” whispered Femke Kane.

Senta nodded, but didn’t look away from the scene on the savannah.

“The Freedonians have showed me a great deal in the past few weeks—machine guns, artillery, poison gas.  You humans have come up with ways to kill that would even have amazed Setemenothiss the black dragon, god of war… were he still alive.  The Freedonians have magic too.   But none of them are a match for you or the other one.”

One of the tyrannosauruses darted in to grab a bite of Hissussisthiss’s meal while he was distracted.  Without looking, indeed without pausing at all, the dragon flicked his tail, crushing the skull of the frightening predator.  The Brechs watched as the green monster tucked in and gobbled down mouthful after mouthful of dinosaur meat, until within only a few minutes, there was nothing at all to be seen poking above the grass at all except for a single gigantic rib bone.

“I’m still hungry,” said Hissussisthiss, and then gestured toward the tyrannosaurus.  “I’m not eating that though.  I have my standards.”

With a quick hop he closed about half the distance between his landing spot and the hiding place of the humans.  His already frightening appearance was enhanced by the smears of blood across his face and neck.  The remaining tyrannosauruses dived upon their fallen fellow but the dragon paid no mind.

“What do you taste like?  I have to admit I’ve been wondering since I met that Korlann fellow.  You might be so small I wouldn’t even be able to taste you, but then there are a bunch of you.  What do you think, Sorceress?  Do you have enough magic to protect yourself, or have you used it all up?”

“Why don’t you come and find out!” shouted Senta suddenly.

Staff rolled his eyes, then grabbing the girl by the shoulder pulled her away into the forest.  The others ran after them.  Hissussisthiss roared and suddenly the entire area was one great conflagration of burning trees, burning brush, and burning grass.  Even the air seemed to ignite in places.

Smedley Bassington is a character that appears in Senta and the Steel Dragon.  He originally appeared in book 3: The Drache Girl.  I expanded his story a bit and added him to book 0: Brechalon.  Bassington is a wizard for the Brech War Ministry.  He’s shown himself to be devoted to their service, even when it conflicts with his own life, or the life of a loved one.  Here he is with Senta in The Two Dragons.

Café Etta was one of two new eating establishments opened by Aalwijn Finkler as an expansion of the bakery business that he had inherited from his now retired mother.  It sat on the corner of the Boulevard and Forest Avenue, and featured a large awning-covered outdoor dining area.  There was a queue of patrons waiting to be seated, though the maitre d’ ushered Senta and her guest inside first and no one waiting complained.  Once seated on finely crafted wrought iron chairs from Mirsanna, they ordered the house specialty and got down to business.

“Zurfina wants to stay away from service to the King, but she can’t anymore,” said Bassington.  “War is coming.  It’s going to come to Brechalon and it’s going to come to Birmisia as well.”

“We’re on the other side of the world from Greater Brechalon,” replied Senta.  “And from Freedonia.”

“So you’re not completely ignorant of what’s going on.”

“I know that Brechalon and Freedonia have broken off diplomatic relations.  It’s in the papers.  And I’ve dealt with Freedonian wizards before.”

“I’m only too aware of that,” said Bassington.  “Who do you think kept you out of prison?  You didn’t think it was Zurfina, did you?  What’s not in the papers is that Freedonia has ten million men under arms—the largest army assembled in the history of the world.”

“Brechalon has you though.  You’re the Great Wizard Bassington.  Just how good a wizard are you anyway?  You can’t be all that if you get yourself tied up in a barn.”

“I’m a third level Master Wizard,” said Bassington, waving his hand and lowering his eyes in what, Senta was sure, was false modesty.  “I do quite well.  But there is nobody on the planet today with Zurfina’s power.  That’s why she’s needed.  You’re needed too.  Don’t think that Freedonia doesn’t have plenty more wizards of its own.  It has many of them, and magical weapons too.  When war comes, it will involve the whole world.”

“Zurfina says that she and I don’t have to worry about countries and kings.  And I don’t think she has to worry about any wizard.”

“What about Suvir Kesi?”

“He was a bug,” sneered Senta.  “He got lucky.”

“Lucky or not, he could have killed her… and you.”

“Zurfina won’t let her guard down again.”

“You may be right, but what about other people?  Do you know what they’re doing to the Zaeri in Freedonia?”

“Yes, Mr. Wissinger, the writer, told me about the ghettos.  But the Zaeri are mistreated everywhere.  They are mistreated in Brechalon.”

“In Freedonia, they are being rounded up and put in cages—far worse than the ghettos.  All their possessions are taken away and sold.  They are worked to death in labor camps.”

“Well what is Zurfina supposed to do about that?” wondered Senta.  “What am I supposed to do about it?”

“Get ready.  The governor of Birmisia is sending an expedition to Tsahloose to establish trade relations.  They won’t be able to.  The Freedonians already have a foothold there.  Go with the expedition and see for yourself.  While you are there, if you find out anything interesting about Freedonian forces in Mallon, give that information to the governor.  She’ll contact me.”

“What makes you think Zurfina will let me go three hundred miles into dangerous territory, to a lizzie city?”

“Ask her.  If she says no, don’t go.”  Bassington smiled slyly.  “Do you think she’ll say no?”

Senta pursed her lips.  “Probably not.”

The waiter brought their food just as the sun was going down below the tall redwoods and another waiter was lighting the gas lights strung along the edges of the awning that covered the diners.  The wizard and the sorceress faced two great platters of pork chops with brown pudding, green beans, polenta, boiled potatoes, sliced tomatoes, and the course, dark bread for which the Finkler family was famous.  Senta picked at her food a bit, but Bassington dived in.

Senta leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.  “You said you would answer any questions I had.”

“That’s right,” he said, carving his pork chop.

Iolana Staff is one of the characters in Senta and the Steel Dragon.  In book 5, The Two Dragons, she is just a child of 7.  It’s particularly fun for me to look back at her, as I’ve just finished writing an 11 year old Iolana in The Sorceress and her Lovers.  This is a pretty typical domestic scene in the Staff home.

“Augie and Terra are with their grandmother again today.”  A strange look passed over Mrs. Colbshallow’s face.  It was a combination of impish humor that Egeria Korlann, barely thirty-five and looking twenty-five should be called a grandmother, and discomfort that she herself at fifty-two did not yet warrant the title.  “Iolana is in the library, I believe.”

“She didn’t want to go?”

“I’m sure she was invited.  I think she wanted to stay home and read her book.”

“That girl reads too much,” opined Iolanthe.  “I don’t remember reading at all when I was eight years old.”

“She reminds me of Master Terrence when he was a boy.”

“Yes, well…”  Iolanthe untied the ribbon below her chin and took off her hat.  She handed it to Skye, who had just walked in, then turned to Ursal.  “You’re staying for dinner?”

“Thank you.  I will accept your invitation.”

Sweeping through the kitchen and down the hallway, Iolanthe made her way to the library.  Sure enough, Iolana was sitting in the overstuffed chair that her uncle had so often occupied.  Her feet were propped up on the antique tuffet and a massive book was splayed across her lap.

“Good afternoon, Iolana.”

The head of thick blond hair rocked back revealing the bow-shaped mouth, small freckled nose and striking aquamarine eyes.  Those eyes darted to the cuckoo clock on the wall and then back.

“Good afternoon, Mother.”

“How long have you been in here reading?” asked Iolanthe, stepping across the floor as a hunter approaches a doe.

“About three hours.”

“You shouldn’t read so much.  You should go upstairs and paint.”

“I don’t like to paint.”

“Why didn’t you go to Egeria’s?”  Iolanthe cupped the girl’s chin and tilted it up toward her face.  “You could have played her piano.”

“I wanted to read my book.”

“What is it that has you so engrossed?”

“It’s called “Steam”.

“Garstone?  In this house?”  She lifted the heavy volume out of the girl’s lap and turned to the inside cover.  In a careful scrawl across the page, was the barely legible signature of Kasia Garstone.  The corner of a white paper stuck out of the flap of the book jacket.  She pulled it out and found it was a receipt.  “Breeding Booksellers Limited.  Second of Hamonth, 1902.  Terrence Dechantagne.  Signed Garstone first edition.  Four thousand one hundred twenty-five marks!”

She sat the book down on her daughter’s knee.  “Is it any good?”

“Oh yes.”

“Have you given any thought to your party?”

“Um… not really.”

“Have you at least thought of a theme?” wondered Iolanthe.

“I thought maybe… goodbye to summer?”

“It’s three months till fall.  How about Accord Day?  That will give you almost a month.”

“Can we have fireworks?”

“There won’t be time to order any from Brech, but I’m sure we can find some, if not in town, then in Mallontah.”  Iolanthe cupped the girl’s chin again.  “I want a guest list tomorrow.  We’ll need to send it to the stationer by the end of the week.  And talk to Auntie Yadira about the food.  I’ve already spoken to Mr. Ghent about the music.”

“Yes Mother.”

“And thank you Mother,” prompted Iolanthe.

“Thank you Mother.”

“Don’t be late for dinner.”

“I won’t Mother.”

Radley Staff is a character in Senta and the Steel Dragon.  In book 5 of the series, The Two Dragons, he has a big part to play, as he leads an expedition, including Senta, to the distant lizardman city-state of Tsahloose.  This is one small part of that journey.

The landscape had changed as the altitude increased.  Thick forests of redwood, maple, and aspens had given way to stunted cedar trees and large bushes sticking out from between massive and strangely square boulders stacked in odd piles here and there as though a giant had set them up like blocks and then kicked them over.  The twelve members of the expedition moved easily enough on foot through the uneven terrain.  Unlike the plains they had passed through the day before, which had been filled with great herds of horned triceratops, giant sauropods, and packs of vicious dinosaur predators, here there seemed to be little animal life.  A single telmatosaurus, full grown but only fifteen feet long, wandered between bushes munching on conifer needles.  Several long-nosed white-furred opossums were startled from their hiding places as the column of men and women passed by.  A squat-bodied furry creature halfway between a bear and a dog barked at them from the top of a rock and then ran over the hill and out of site.

Radley Staff stopped to look back at the line of people following him and make sure that there were no stragglers.  The formation remained tight, which was a miracle considering the diversity of the party members.  Behind Staff was Amoz Croffut, a veteran soldier only recently retired from the militia, or the Colonial Guard as it was now officially known.  He had already proven more than once on this trip that he could spot danger.  Third was Senta, the tall, thin, blond, seventeen year old sorceress.  Next came Taddeus Vever, sweating and puffing as he marched along on his short legs.  Vever was a jeweler by trade, a sedentary job that gave him little time to exercise, so he was horribly out of shape.  He didn’t complain though.  Unlike Paxton Brown, who followed closely behind Vever and whose constant protests had long since worn thin.  The man was supposed to be a scholar of lizzie behavior, and Staff had chosen him over several other naturalists for that reason.  Now he was beginning to regret his decision.  Behind him was the husband and wife duo of engineers, Ivo and Femke Kane.  They looked at each other and smiled, apparently enjoying Brown’s discomfort.  They were followed by Isaak Wissinger the writer.  Arriving from Freedonia two years before to join relatives, Wissinger had already published several well-known works of fiction and non-fiction.  He was on this journey for his keen ear and understanding of language, though he spoke the hissing tongue of the lizzies less well than some of the others.  He was followed by Lawrence Bratihn, the head of trade for Birmisia Colony, as well as the only person in Port Dechantagne besides Senta who had been in a lizzie city before.  Occupying the tenth spot in line was Edin Buttermore.  Buttermore was in much better shape than he had been when he arrived in Mallon.  Now though, he was struggling under a pack filled with a good seventy pounds of photographic equipment.  Pulling up the rear were Bertrand Werthimer and Woodrow Manring.  Both were accomplished soldiers, though they like Croffut and Bratihn for that matter, no longer wore uniforms.  All members of the party, excepting only Senta, wore khaki shirt and khaki trousers tucked into high boots.  Senta wore black leather pants and a black and red leather corset that left her shoulders covered only by her long blond hair.

Staff let Croffut pass him and took up a spot beside the girl.

“I should have had you change into your khakis.”

“I didn’t bring any.  Zurfina packed for me.”

“Black is too hot for a journey.”

“Do I look hot?”

“No.  You look remarkably comfortable.  But there is the question of camouflage.  You stand out.”

“I’m supposed to stand out.”

“All right.  Are your spells ready?”

She grinned at him.  “You’ve worked with wizards in the navy, eh?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not a wizard.  My spells are always ready.”

“Potent too, from what I understand.  It’s been a couple of years since I’ve actually seen you do magic.”

“How is married life?” she asked, changing the subject.  “I would think it would be hard being married to the governor.”

“It’s good.  It’s a bit like being in the navy.  If you don’t mind taking orders, it’s a good life.”

“Say there, Senta,” said Vever catching up to the other two.  “Is it magic that you’re not exhausted like I am?”

“Yes, it’s magic,” replied Staff.  “It’s the magic of youth.  She has twice the energy that either of us has and half as much idea what to do with it.”