When I was writing The Young Sorceress, I needed a couple of young men to tag along with Senta.  I looked through the characters that I had appearing before and after and picked two mostly at random.  Since I had already written what happens to everyone for the rest of their lives, I knew that one of these two young men had a fairly important future.  It wasn’t until recently though, that I realized I was going to be writing it in The Sorceress and her Lovers.  Here are Benny, Shemar, and Senta in The Young Sorceress.

The small train, consisting only of a locomotive and a caboose, stopped at the end of the spur line and deposited its passengers—a blond teenage sorceress and two teenage boys carrying rifles.  The girl was dressed in black leather.  The two young men wore khaki explorer clothes and pith helmets.  All three had high boots, proof against the thick and thorny brush.  On the southeast edge of the great forest through which the train had journeyed, more than a hundred miles from Port Dechantagne, the landscape grew hilly and rugged.

“I really don’t think you two should be out here,” said Senta.  “I can do just fine on my own.”

“It’s not safe out here for you either,” replied Shemar Morris.  “I know you can do magic and all, but Graham says you were almost eaten by dinosaurs on a couple of occasions.”

“Let’s get going,” said Benny Markham, his eyes constantly scanning the area.  “I’m really of no mind to run into a tyrannosaurus.”

“Not likely to see one around here,” replied his friend, “at least according to Colonel Mormont.”

“That’s good.”

“Much more likely to run into a gorgosaurus.”

“Yeah?  What are they like?”

“They’re like short tyrannosauruses,” said Senta.

“That’s just ace.  How about we get a move on?  I’m getting paid a flat rate, not by the hour.”

Senta reached into the air just above her head and grabbed something floating there which only she could see.  It was a glamour—a spell stored for use at a later time.  The spell was scrying magic that would lead her hopefully to a large coal deposit.  The time to use the spell had come.  She crushed the gemlike object between her thumb and forefinger and watched as tiny sparkles spread through the air like fairy dust, gradually drifting into an arrow shape that pointed almost due west.

“This way,” she pronounced.

They crossed over a series of small hills which on their far side looked out over a vast open plain.  Hundreds of monstrous creatures roamed across it.  The vast majority of them were of a type that had the same basic shape as the iguanodons found near the coast, but were a solid deep brown in color and had very different forefeet.

“What does Mormont say about those?” asked Benny.

Shemar pulled out a small leather bound copy of the book that almost all Birmisian residents now carried.  He opened it and read.  “Gryposaurus.  Large herds, very fast, eats grass and shrubbery.”  He stuck the book back in his pocket.  “Bunch of triceratops over there.  Oh, and look.”

Four grey and green striped predators stalked along the edge of the massive herd.  They were very much the same shape as the tryrannosaurs known from the coast, though much shorter and with a lighter build.

“Let’s skirt over that way,” said Benny.  “I’ll feel better if we can keep those paralititans between us and the gorgosaurs.”

“They’re not paralititans.  They’re sauroposeidons.”

“Yeah, all right.  I see than now.  Let’s just keep moving.”

“So have you got a girlfriend yet, Shemar?” asked Senta.

“I’m keeping my options open.”

“He’s too afraid to ask a girl out,” said Benny, still watching the dinosaurs.

“I have my eye on a few.”

“Like who?” asked Senta.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just wondering.”

“I don’t want it getting around that I might be interested in one.  Then what if I wanted to ask a different one out?”

“Don’t worry,” said Senta.  “I don’t talk to any of those other girls anyway.”

“Well, I kind of like Gabby Bassett.  She has nice eyes.”

Just as he spoke, Shemar kicked a loose rock which went rolling downhill.  A two foot long rodent, heretofore unnoticed, jumped startled from its hiding place, and scurried across Benny’s boots, and then out of sight.  Benny jumped completely off the ground, landed off balance, and dropped his rifle.

“Kafira damn it!” he shouted.  “Can we pay attention to what we’re doing?”

“Uuthanum beithbechnoth!” shouted Senta, aiming her hand in the boy’s direction. 

A bolt of bright orange energy shot from her hand and just past his head, quickly followed by a second and a third.  Benny stood shaking where he was for a moment and then turned around.  Lying dead ten paces behind him was the body of a beautiful red feathered creature.  It was an achillobator, twenty feet long and weighing over a thousand pounds.  It was every inch as large and ferocious as the utahraptors they were all familiar with.

“Kafira Kristos,” Benny muttered, crossing himself.

“Dutty Speel is nice,” continued Shemar.  “But did you ever notice that her eyes are kind of spaced too far apart?”

(Spoiler Alert: I’m going to try not to, but be warned.)  Senta got her last name from turn of the century (the one before last) girl-reporter Nellie Bly.  So when I created this particular character for The Young Sorceress, I used the other half of Nellie Bly’s name as sort of an in joke, or hint.  It works perfectly, because Nellie Swenson is a girl-reporter.  The second half of her name is just pulled out of the air.  There is a major street near here named Swenson, and also a chain of ice-cream parlor’s called Swenson’s.  I used to take my kids there.  Anyway, I don’t know if I used the character to her full potential, but I had fun with her.  Here is her first appearance in The Young Sorceress.

“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind them. 

Graham and Senta turned to look into the freckled face of a young woman.  She had evidently just come off one of the ships in port.  She wore a long traveling coat over a white blouse and brown dress.  A brown bonnet held back bright red hair, a few strands of which escaped to hang down on the side of their face.  In her right hand she grasped the handle of a small carpet bag.

“Do either of you know your way around town,” asked the girl.

“Sure,” replied Graham.  “What are you looking for?”

“I don’t really know.  I’m new here.  I don’t have a place to stay yet and I’m not sure where I should go to find one.”

“I’ll help you.  I’m Graham Dokkins.”

“I’m Nellie Swenson, girl reporter.”

“Are you supposed to be famous or something?” asked Senta.

“I’m pretty well known back in Brech.  The Herald Sun is the most widely read news broadsheet, and I have a weekly column.”

“Who’s writing it now then?”

“Oh, I wrote enough extra columns to fill out a whole year, though I’m kind of sorry I’m not going to get to see the reaction to my story on orphanage abuses or the one detailing the stunt of my jumping from a dirigible.  I’m here to see Birmisia Colony and I’m keeping a journal of my adventure.  It should provide at least a year of new columns.”

“Come on, I’ll take you to the new arrivals bureau,” offered Graham.

“That would be lovely, but aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh, that’s just Senta.”  Then to Senta he said, “I’m going to help Nellie get situated.  I’ll see you later.”

The boy offered the new arrival his arm, which she took, and the two of them started up Seventh and One Half Avenue.  Senta’s eyes bored holes in their backs, and she absentmindedly punched her left palm with her right fist.

Pantagria is a character that I had a lot of fun writing in The Voyage of the Minotaur.  Then she didn’t appear again.  So when I got a chance to write her in The Young Sorceress, I was very pleased.  She’s showing up again in The Sorceress and her Lovers.

The idea for Pantagria comes from a story I wrote when I was in High School.  In that story, I had the same setting– the field of purple eyeball flowers– and the same kind of ethereal tone.  The genders were reverse though.  The person living in the field was a male and the visitor from the real world was female.  The character didn’t have a name then.  When I needed a magical setting for users of the magical drug to visit, I just pulled that setting and character out of the back of my brain.

Here is Pantagria with Yuah in The Young Sorceress.  I try to get at least one Shakespeare line somewhere in my stories.  This one is pretty easy to spot.

“Why are you here?”

On a large flat rock in the middle of an endless field of purple flowers, the two women faced each other.  They were both beautiful and they both stood naked beneath the warming rays of the noon day sun.  One was thin and pale, with dark hair and large expressive brown eyes.  The other was muscular, toned, and tan, her long blond hair cascaded down her shoulders, impossibly thick, almost to her waist; with wings that stretched twelve feet from tip to tip, covered in feathers as white as the clouds.

“Why are you here?” Pantagria repeated.

“I’m here because I’m ‘seeing’.”

“Then that brings us to an entirely different question.  Why are you seeing?”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t want Pantagruel.”

Yuah shivered at the memory.  “Who would want that monster?”

“He is what many women want.  He is who they come to see when they use the ‘see spice’.”

“How could anyone want that monster?”

“He is what your mind makes him.  In fact, he is a perfect reflection of what your mind makes him.  You see a monster.  Another woman sees a prince—a perfect prince.  But you didn’t come seeking perfection, did you?  You don’t even want perfection.  If you wanted perfection, you would have never wanted our Terrence, would you?”

“Don’t speak of him!”  Yuah’s hand became a claw with which she threatened to lash out.  “Don’t you dare say his name!”

 “I loved Terrence,” Pantagria hissed, her eyes taking an evil gleam.  “Forty thousand dressing maids with all their quantity of love could not equal my sum!”

“I am not a dressing maid.  I am Mrs. Terrence Lucius Virgil Dechantagne!  And you… You’re nothing!  Nothing!  You’re not even real!”  Yuah burst into a fit of tears.

Pantagria laughed in her face.

“You little fool.  He didn’t love you any more than he loved me.”

“You’re evil!” wailed Yuah.  “Why did you have to have him?  Why did you have to ruin him?  Why did you have to steal him away from me?”

“I didn’t go looking for him.  I couldn’t even if I wanted to.  He came to me.  He came to me just the way you have.”  Pantagria slowly circled the other woman.  “He came to me because he wanted something perfect.  It’s why all men come to me.  And it’s why women come to Pantagruel.  But not you.”  She stopped in front of Yuah.  “You don’t want either of us.  You don’t want something perfect.”

Yuah dropped her hands to her sides and sobbed uncontrollably.

“So, what do you want?”

“I don’t want… anything.”

“Then you have picked a particularly horrible way to commit suicide.”

Yuah’s shoulders shook.

“Stop your crying,” ordered Pantagria.  “Stop it!”

Grasping Yuah’s hair, Pantagria pulled her head up and slapped her across the face.

“Wake up.  Yuah wake up.”  Mrs. Colbshallow slapped Yuah gently across the cheek again.

Yuah struggled to lift her head and look around.  She was lying in the empty bath tub.  Her limbs were numb.

“I knew this tub was a bad idea,” said Mrs. Colbshallow.  “Cissy!  Get in here and bring a blanket! 

The reptilian arrived with a blanket, and wrapping it around Yuah, carried the woman upstairs to her bedroom.  Placing her on her bed, and throwing a quilt over her, Cissy crossed the room to the fireplace and struck a match, lighting the tinder that had already been arranged amid the kindling and fuel.  By the time she had turned around, Mrs. Colbshallow was handing Yuah a cup of steaming tea.

“What are you doing lying in the tub?” she asked.  “That room is too cold and you have a perfectly good bed right here.”

Yuah didn’t reply.  She simply sipped the tea, her eyes closed.

Iolana Staff appears as a baby in book 2 and a toddler in book 3.  In The Young Sorceress we get to see her as a precocious little girl.  As I was writing this, I was already thinking about what I was going to do with the character in the future, and indeed right now she is one of the main characters in The Sorceress and her Lovers.  In fact, in the first half of the book, she appears more than anyone else.  Here she is from book 4, getting little respect from her elders.

In the kitchen two more lizzies were cleaning but the crowd that she had expected was not there.  Just past the kitchen, Yuah almost ran into Mrs. Colbshallow.  The former cook now occupied a position in the household akin to a dear aunt.

“Shouldn’t they be preparing tea, Yadira?” she asked.

“It’s already on the table.  I was just about to summon everyone to the dining room.  How was your shopping trip?”

“Barely acceptable.”

Mrs. Colbshallow paused and peered over her glasses.  “Then I’m barely glad to hear it.”

Neither Iolanthe nor Radley were at home for tea.  Yuah had expected as much of course, since she had just seen the latter in town and seldom found the former at home during the day.  Mrs. Colbshallow was seated on one side of the table next to Iolanthe’s daughter Iolana.  Yuah, between her two children, sat opposite them.  Augie was now almost two and a half and had mastered the intricacies of family dining, though he had to sit on a stack of books to reach the table.  He looked so much like his father it made Yuah’s heart ache to look at him.

“Good afternoon Mama,” he said.  “Did you bring me a tin soldier?”

“Of course I did.  You may play with it after you eat.

“Mine?” asked Augie’s little sister Terra.

The girl was a less than a year younger than her brother.  She had a round little face framed by thick black hair and brown eyes.  She was unusually thin for a child her age.  This along with her pale skin and scratchy little voice made her mother constantly worried for her health, despite the best medical opinions which said she was completely fine.  She, like her brother, was quite advanced for her age.

“I brought you some blocks.”

The girl tipped her head back, opened her mouth, and shrieked.

“I want a soldier!”

“Girls don’t play with soldiers,” said Augie.

“I want a soldier!”

“No they don’t,” said Yuah, brushing the little girl’s hair.  “Boys play with soldiers because they grow up to be soldiers.”

 Terra shrieked again.

“What is it now?”

“I don’t want to be a block!”

“Quit crying!  You’re going to grow up to be a princess.”

“The warrior-priestesses of Ballar were soldiers,” offered Iolana from across the table.

“You be quiet,” snapped Yuah.  “I won’t have any of that nonsense in this house.  You’re five years old.  How come you talk like a college professor?  No man’s going to want to marry a know-it-all.”

Iolana slumped down in her chair.  Terra climbed out of her high-chair, still crying, and into the lap of the seventh diner, who was quietly sitting on the other side of her from Yuah.  Though many humans might not have been able to tell Cissy from the other lizzies in the Dechantagne home, she occupied a special place there.  She was slightly less than six feet in height, about average for members of her sex and species.  Her skin was smooth, without the mottling and scars of many of the reptilians.  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 chair had been modified so that she could sit without discomforting her long, powerful tail.  She reached out a scaly hand and picked up a cucumber sandwich, which she fed to the tiny human now curled up in her lap.  Terra was forced to stop crying to eat.

The main part of writing The Young Sorceress, was squeezing in some additional background on characters who appeared in The Two Dragons, which I had already written.  One of the main characters was completely different.  I already knew what I wanted to write for Book 6: The Sorceress and her Lovers, so I used the opportunity to build some background for a character who would play a big part in that book– Kieran Baxter.  Up to that point, he had only appeared as a very minor character in book 1.  Here he is in book 4.

Baxter was the latest of His Majesty’s ships to take this duty.  She was a battle sloop and though larger than wooden sailing ships of old bearing the same designation, she was one of the smaller vessels in the Royal Navy.  It was Baxter’s opinion that she was too small for her current assignment, though he would never have admitted such.  At 990 tons, she was just exactly 250 feet long and drew a beam of 36 feet.  With a single machinegun and no ship to ship weapons, she had to rely on her speed to get her 93 crewmen to safety—no match for a frigate and certainly not a cruiser.  Her three anti-airship guns could take on any dirigible, but while her two depth charge throwers and two torpedo tubes made her a menace to a submersible, Freedonian unterseeboots usually traveled in packs.

This day had been like every other one of the past three weeks.  The Snowflake had circled one of the smaller Mulliens, looking for any sign of Freedonian or Mirsannan influence and generally ignoring any ships from Enclep.  In this case there had been none.  There was nothing to distinguish this particular island from the hundreds of others in the area.  It didn’t even have a name on the charts.  It was large enough to have a couple of peaks, no doubt volcanic, though if they were active there was no sign of it.  Thick tropical forests grew right up the edge of the beach all the way around.  There was no sign of even the most rudimentary civilized life.  There was in fact no sign of human life what-so-ever.

Baxter stood along the aft railing and watched the sun dip below the waves.  He felt the comforting thrum of the twin steam turbines beneath his feet.  Relaxing here before retiring had become his nightly routine, something of which his steward was well aware.

“Tea Captain?” asked the sailor, holding a cup for him.

“Thank you.”  Baxter took a sip and sighed.

It was at that moment that he saw them and for a split second he thought they were simply the last bits of light reflecting off the waves.  They weren’t.  They were two torpedoes and they hit at almost the same instant not fifty feet forward from where he stood.  Suddenly he was flying through the air.  Then he was underwater, struggling to breathe.  Just as he reached the surface, something crashed into the waves two feet away, creating a huge splash.  Baxter turned in the water, looking for the Snowflake.  He found her just in time to see a tremendous blast rip the ship apart as the cold seawater hit the steaming boilers.

Baxter swam toward the ship, but it disappeared below the waves long before he was able to close half the distance.  As the thought that his first command was now gone registered in his brain, so for the first time did the fact that he himself was in serious trouble.  He was already exhausted and though he knew there was land close by, he had lost all sense of direction and no longer had the light in which to see it.  He was wearing his boots and they were filled with water, dragging him down.  He thought about removing them, but didn’t think he could stay afloat while he did so.  Debris was floating all around, but most of it was tiny.  He grabbed the first thing he saw floating that was larger than he was and pulled his body onto it, grinning mirthlessly when he realized it was part of a lifeboat.

Holding on for his life, Baxter spent the night being tossed about like a cork.  He was sure that he hadn’t fallen asleep.  He couldn’t have.  Yet sunrise appeared far sooner than it should have.  As it did so, it framed the shape of the island that Snowflake had circumnavigated the day before.  It looked less than a mile away.  There was nothing else to do but make for it.  Finally able to remove his boots, Baxter tied them by the shoelaces to the single metal cleat on the remains of the lifeboat.  Then lying on his stomach, he kicked with his feet toward land.