As you read this, The Sorceress and her Lovers should be available at Amazon, iBooks, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo. If you haven’t already tried preordered it, I invite you to pick it up for $2.99.
As a bit of promotion for the series, Book 1: The Voyage of the Minotaur will be lowered in price from $2.99 to 99 cents at least until the end of the year. It’s a great time to check out Senta and the Steel Dragon.
The Voyage of the Minotaur tells the story of colonists from the Kingdom of Greater Brechalon as they travel to the distant land of Birmisia in a world that is not quite like our own Victorian Age. The Dechantagne siblings; Iolanthe, Terrence, and Augie lead an expedition aboard the battleship Minotaur, hoping that the colony they build will restore their family to the position of wealth and power it once had. Along with them is the mysterious sorceress Zurfina, an orphan girl turned sorceress’s apprentice Senta Bly, and the newly hatched steel dragon. Waiting in dark and mysterious forests of Birmisia is the promise of a new life, along with hosts of dangerous beasts—from velociraptors and tyrannosaurs to the inscrutable reptilian aborigines. Senta and the Steel Dragon is a tale of adventure in a world of rifles and steam power, where magic and dragons have not been forgotten; a world of bustles and corsets, steam-powered computers, hot air balloons and dinosaurs, machine guns and wizards.
Monday was Staff Development, so even though I didn’t have any students, I was still busy. Add to that, I’ve got FIVE papers due this week for my post-grad classes. Still, I managed to write a chapter of Astrid Maxxim and the Antarctic Expedition.
Just 11 more days with students, 13 at work until I’m off for the summer. Eighteen days of post-grad classes, then 3 days at Comicon. After that, I’m a full-time writer. I can hardly wait.
A few minutes later, Shrubb met the other two men outside the front door of the station. They walked down the cement sidewalk to the beanery at the end of the block. There were four eating establishments in Port Dechantagne called beaneries. This one was the original. A single square building served as kitchen, diners eating out front on long wooden tables beneath a large colorful awning. As they took their seats, Bell next to him, and Eamon across, Saba held up three fingers to the lizzie who approached and set down three cups of steaming tea. With a quick nod, the reptilian headed back toward the rear of the restaurant.
“Don’t you usually have breakfast at home?” Eamon asked Saba.
“I was out the door early this morning. How about you?”
“I’ve been leaving before breakfast lately.”
“Your shift isn’t that early, is it?”
“Well, along with taking care of our three boys, Dot’s been watching her sister’s three kids. It tires her out, so she’s been sleeping in.”
“It doesn’t look like you’re going to waste away,” said Saba, looking him up and down. “Unlike our friend Bell here.”
Bell smiled weakly. Compared to Eamon, he did indeed look famished. Though not fat, the police sergeant was a very big man, with broad shoulders and a heavy chest. The wizard was not only thin; he hunkered down like a lizzie, trying to curl up for warmth in his coat. His gaze shifted from Saba to Eamon and back.
“I was just telling the chief inspector that I usually can’t eat on those days I perform my art. Perhaps I need to make more of an effort to take an early breakfast.”
“I’m sorry we haven’t had much of a chance to get to know one another,” said Saba. “I’ve had Wizard Cameron over to the house several times, but he’s been with us longer than either you or Wizard Winton.”
“Yes, I’m not much for social gatherings,” said Bell.
“It would be nice to meet a few people though, eh?” said Eamon. “It’s hard being in a new place and all.”
“I suppose.”
The lizzie returned with three large platters filled with food, setting them before each of the three men. Though not a place of fine dining, the beanery was well known as somewhere that a man could find a full fry-up—bacon, sausages, black pudding, white pudding, three fried eggs, grilled tomatoes, fried mushrooms, baked beans, and soldiers. This morning, the tomatoes had been replaced with fried onions, the white pudding had been replaced with potato cakes, and since this was Birmisia, the eggs were from either buitreraptor or mahakala nests. All of the portions were large. Eamon immediately tucked in. Bell picked up his fork and poked at the eggs before finally taking a few bites of potato cake.
“The bacon’s good,” said Saba, waving a piece in his direction. “It’s pork. I know the eggs take getting used to.”
The wizard tried a thick slice of bacon and nodded. “To be honest, I was never too fond of eggs in the first place. I could never eat them if they hadn’t been cooked through.”
“Put them on Eamon’s plate. You’ll never see them again.”
Eamon reached over with his fork and removed the offending ovum. “They are a bit gamey, but you get used to them. So what’s your Kafirite name, Bell, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“It’s um… Obed.”
“You haven’t been here long. I’m guessing you’re from Regencia.”
“No, I’m from Merseyshire.”
“All sort of the same though, isn’t it? Northwesterners, eh?”
“Let the man eat his breakfast,” said Saba.
Bell flashed him a thin-lipped smile, but continued to pick at his food.
“The black pudding is good,” said Saba. “Lots of iron, they say.”
“He knows that already,” said Eamon. “Merseyshire boys had to have been raised on black pudding.”
“You might as well ask me what you want to know,” said Bell, hunkering down a bit more, even though it has slightly warmer than when they had arrived.
“Don’t mind Eamon,” said Saba. “He’s just being friendly.”
“Not him. You. You brought me here to interrogate me. You just asked the sergeant along as a distraction. You knew he’d ask questions and you could gather information without seeming to try.” He looked up at Saba with weary eyes. “It’s a common technique.”
“You learned magic at Académie Argei?”
“No, I didn’t matriculate at Argei. I started my studies at Yoel, but I left after two years.”
“Yoel? That’s a Zaeri school, isn’t it?” asked Saba. “You’re not a Zaeri, are you?”
“My grandmother is, on my father’s side. That was enough to get me in. I was a poor student and lost my sponsorship, so I became an apprentice of Wizard Argol.”
“You must have done well, obviously you are accomplished.”
“Working with Wizard Argol was good for me. He was a great man.”
“You’re more accomplished than either Cameron or Winton. They’re both journeyman wizards.”
“We’re all journeymen wizards. Cameron is fourth level and Winton a third.”
“And you?”
“I’m registered as a fourth level, but I’ve improved. I think I could test out as a master.”
Saba looked over at Eamon, who had been shoveling food into his mouth during the exchange. He speared one of his own sausages on the point of his knife and took a bite. Bell was still looking across at him with hooded eyes.
“So why didn’t you go to work for the war department?” Saba asked.
“I thought there were better opportunities here.”
“What kind of opportunities?”
Bell leaned forward a bit. “What do you mean?”
“Just what kind of opportunities were you looking for?”
Bell stared at Saba, a frown forming on his face.
“Oh, that’s what this is about,” said Eamon.
“Quiet you,” said Saba.
“What is it about?” asked Bell.
“You’re here for the magical opportunities,” said Saba, leaning in to look Bell in the face. “You wouldn’t be the first wizard that thought he could leach magical energy from a powerful sorceress.”
“I… no… I…”
“You see mate,” said Eamon, between bites of toast. “The chief inspector here is the self-appointed guardian of the important women in the colony—kind of their champion you might say. He’d beat you to death and drop you in the bay for insulting the governor. I’d hate to see what he’d do if you threatened the sorceress.”
“I don’t think you want to move that piece there,” said Iolana, peering across the vast gaming table.
Dozens of square wooden playing pieces were arrayed across the oak surface, only half of which faced her. The other pieces belonged to her opponent. Esther hissed softly and moved the piece back to its original spot.
The gaming table sat along the west wall of Iolana’s bedroom, the largest bedroom in the house. Just behind Iolana’s seat was a stone fireplace, and beyond that was a writing desk with chair, and in the corner a cheval glass. Across the room from the fireplace was a beautiful canopy bed, the cover and the drapes of which matched the Thiss green area rug beneath it. Rich oak nightstands, hand-crafted here in Birmisia, matched the oak chest of drawers and the six tall bookcases. At the other end of the room, a comfortable sofa, striped green and gold, sat facing two comfy armchairs. Beside them was a hutch filled with dolls and toys and a mechanical music box, which even now was playing a Freedonian waltz.
The lizzie placed her chin on the table and hissed again.
“You see I’ve got you beat, don’t you?” said Iolana. “Unless you have Insane WitchWoman, there is no way you can win.”
“Cheat,” said Esther quietly.
“How dare you!” growled Iolana, jumping to her feet.
“Ssiss zat techiss szessit suuwasuu dakkuk wasuu wasuu eesousztekhau.”
“Well of course I do. Who’s going to make the pieces for the game if I don’t? Answer me that.” The human girl put her hands on her hips. “All the other players in town copy my pieces and nobody has complained that they weren’t fair, ssisthusso very much.”
The lizzie slid her chin off the table and climbed beneath it.
“Oh, do get up. Maybe I should let you win sometimes. Perhaps that would be good for your self-esteem, but it just sends the wrong message, doesn’t it? How would you ever know if you truly were good enough to beat me?”
The door suddenly burst open and Iolana’s cousin Terra came shooting in. Though dressed in a frilly little outfit of burgundy and silver, the seven-year-old was barefoot and both her hands and feet were extremely grimy. Her thick brown hair was a mess. Iolana held up her hand like a traffic cop.
“You know you’re supposed to knock before you come in that door.”
“I only want to play with your lizzie,” said Terra’s scratchy little voice.
“How in Kafira’s name did you get so dirty? Your mother is going to have a dinosaur when she sees you.”
“I want to play with your lizzie,” Terra repeated. “Can I take her out to the swings?”
Iolana tilted her head to look under the table. “Do you want to go outside with Terra?”
Esther bobbed her head up and down.
“Say the word.”
“Yess.”
“All right then,” she told her cousin, “but don’t bring her back all dirty.”
“Come on, lizzie,” called Terra, as Esther scrambled out from under the table and followed the girl out the door.
After carefully washing her hands in the basin on her nightstand, Iolana checked her dress in the cheval that stood in the corner. Then she retrieved a straw boater from her closet and added a small red achillobator feather that just matched her red dress. Leaving her room, she ran into her mother’s dressing maid at the top of the stairs.
“Narsa, have one of the males go watch Terra and Esther. They’re playing out in the garden. And when they’re done, have them cleaned up, preferably before Auntie Yuah sees them.”
“Yess.”
Sad news this week as our long-time pet iguana Cissy died. She was fourteen years old. She was named after the lizzie character in Senta and the Steel Dragon. In the picture, she’s the one on the right– back when we were all much younger.
Hsrandtuss opened his eyes and stretched. He had to push both Ssu and Tokkenoht off of him before he could roll off his sleeping mat. Only the latter female woke up. He stretched again. He felt better than he had in months, better than he had in years. A lot of it had to do with the fact that he was sleeping much better. He didn’t know if it was the proximity of the young god or the fact that for a change, things seemed to be going his way.
The other chiefs had all gone home. The last to leave had been Tistakha. Before Tistakha had left for Tuustutu, Hsrandtuss had managed a brief meeting. To say they had formed an alliance would have been too much, but they did seem to have an understanding. The two would work together to see that their trade with the soft-skins increased and that the plans of the God of the Sky were not disrupted by the likes of Szisz and his band of broken yokes in Suusiss.
“Your morning meal, Great King,” said Sszaxxanna, handing him a pomegranate.
“I don’t want another fruit,” said Hsrandtuss. “Where is my meat?”
“Your bowels, Great King.”
“Never mind my bowels. Find me a bird, or at the very least a nice fish.”
“The fish are not very plentiful here in the mountains, Great King,” said Sszaxxanna, with entirely too much sass.
He glared at her.
“I will try to find you a fish,” she said, scurrying off.
“See that you do. And send Sirriss in here!” he called after her.
Sirriss hurried into the room.
“Paint me,” Hsrandtuss ordered.
“If you wish, Great King, but the God of the Sky is gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean gone?”
“He flew north. Kendra says he has gone to visit the soft-skins in their city.”
“Yes, I see. That is good. What else does Kendra say? What about Szisz? Is he being watched?”
“Shouldn’t you wait and ask Sszaxxanna?” she asked quietly.
“You will never be first wife with an attitude like that,” he said.
“Kendra has trackers following him and his people. They are halfway back to Suusiss. She also says that there is a way for you to rise high in the esteem of the young god. She says you should do it, but Sszaxxanna won’t…”
Suddenly Sszaxxanna was there, striking Sirris repeatedly with her clawed hands, driving her from the room. Tokkenoht jumped up and hurried after her. Ssu continued to snooze on the sleeping mat.
“I have a bird for you, Great King,” said wife number one, thrusting the charred carcass of a bambiraptor toward him.
“It’s cooked?”
“It will be easier on your stomach.”
“What was it that Kendra suggested?” he asked, taking the bird and biting off the top half.
“It is nothing. It is ill conceived.”
“Would I not be a better judge of that than you?”
“Of course, Great King. But the god already favors you. You don’t need to risk yourself unnecessarily.”
“Bring her in here. I want to hear it.”
“But Great King…”
“Now.”
“As you wish,” said Sszaxxanna, stomping sulkily through the doorway. Hsrandtuss had no doubt that both Kendra and Sirris would be on the receiving end of Sszaxxanna’s claws later, but what was it to him how the females settled their differences?
Kendra entered and stepped very close to him. She placed one hand, palm outward, on her dewlap in a sign of respect and reached out familiarly to touch him on the shoulder with the other. She and Ssu were the youngest of his wives, and Kendra was very tiny, barely reaching up to Hsrandtuss’s shoulder.
“All right, what is this about improving my esteem?”
The L.Z. Frühlingshuhn descended from the clouds toward Royal Tybalt Hall, the top stories of which had been converted ten years earlier to a dirigible port. From the great window on the observation deck, Senta Bly watched as Brech City slid by below her. The buildings all looked like toy models of themselves. The boats in the Thiss and the carriages on the streets likewise looked like the playthings of children. It was a sight well worth the cost of a ticket, even without the three-day voyage from Bangdorf.
“It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?”
She turned to Kieran Baxter, who was sitting in one of the comfortable lounge chairs bouncing the baby on his knee.
“I never get tired of it,” she said.
“Funny, I wouldn’t think it would be that impressive to you… what with you being able to fly and everything.”
“Who said I could fly?”
“Can you?”
She shrugged. “Sort of.”
“I knew it,” he said, hopping easily to his feet, still holding the child. He stopped next to the sorceress. “Look. You can see right into the courtyard of Palace Eidenia. I always wanted to look in there. I expected piles of treasure or something equally grand.”
“Looks like their storing old trolley cars in there,” said Senta. “Quite the let-down I’ll bet.”
“It always is when your fantasies meet your realities. They just don’t hold up.”
She leaned in close to him. Her hot breath reached his cheek and the side of his neck.
“Perhaps not in all cases,” he said.
The ship glided lower, turning so that Palace Eidenia was no longer visible. Instead they had a splendid view of the Palace of Ansegdniss, for 250 years the meeting place of the Parliament of Greater Brechalon. The buildings below became larger and larger until suddenly they stopped being toys and became real full-sized structures. The dirigible slowed to a stop and at last all they could see was the roof of Royal Tybalt Hall.
Though they had packed those belongings that had been in use during their three-day journey, Senta was in no mood to join the ranks of those passengers rushing to get out. So she and Baxter continued to sit in the lounge for another hour. He let the baby crawl a bit on the floor, though he didn’t allow her to get far, and she couldn’t have in any case. Finally with him carrying little Senta and the sorceress carrying the animal carrier, they walked down the gangway, followed by two stewards with the luggage. Quickly procuring a cab, they were on their way to The Clarkson House.
The Clarkson House was Brech City’s finest hotel. It reigned over Avenue Boar with all the opulence of Palace Eidenia—more now that they had seen the old trolleys stored in the latter. Once at the hotel they stepped across the black and white chessboard-like floor of the palatial lobby, past the gilded furnishings beneath the crystal chandeliers. To Senta, who had stayed at the Clarkson for several weeks before traveling to Freedonia, and who had in fact given birth to her daughter there, it almost seemed like returning home. It cemented in her mind the decision she had already made.
When they were safely settled in the imperial suite, Senta let the little dragon out of the carrier. It immediately ran toward the baby.
“Back off you,” said Baxter, protectively pulling the child away.
“Good baby,” said the dragon.
“Kafira’s twat. The bloody thing talks.”
City of Amathar 