“Good day, Mother Linton.  How lovely that you could join me this afternoon.”  Iolanthe wore, for her, an unusual day dress.  It was light blue satin with a dark velvet mock-coat.  The front left far more cleavage than she was used to wearing, but some of that was covered by the bouquet of flowers gently tucked at the base and flaring outward.  She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman seated in Bonne Nourriture.  She stood up to shake hands with the priest.

Mother Linton accepted her hand.  She wore her traditional robe, black with one white stripe running down from each shoulder.  Her hair had grown quite long and straight since coming to Birmisia and it had gone completely grey.  Sitting down, she added the white linen napkin to her lap.

“Don’t you prefer Café Etta?” asked the priest.

“I thought this was more appropriate.”

A lizzie, wearing a white apron, handed each of the women a paper menu.  “Ssessial is glazed iguanodon.”

Mother Linton curled her lip.  “I’ll have the chicken salad.”

“The same for me,” said Iolanthe, and smiling, handed back the menu.  She watched the reptilian waiter depart.  “You do know there are no chickens in Birmisia, don’t you?  Our salad will most likely be velociraptor.”

“Hmph.  I don’t get the opportunity to eat out very often.”

“That’s a shame.  I find it advantageous.  It gives me a chance to take the pulse of the community.”

“I don’t need to know the pulse of the community.  I am not a politician.”

“At least not a very accomplished one,” said Iolanthe.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, Mother Linton, that this business with the Zaeri has grown tiresome.  Despite the fact that I have no strong religious feelings, I understand that you do.  That, and the fact that I respect strength in a woman, is why I’ve not interfered with you leading your flock.  But now you are becoming a danger to this colony.  If you drive wedges between the Kafirites, the Zaeri, and the lizzies now, we may not be able to unite against Freedonia.”

“The lizardmen are nothing more than animals, and the Zaeri are infidels.  They killed Kafira.”

“Well yes.  Some of the Zaeri did kill her.  Some of the Zaeri were her followers.  Some of them were her apostles.  And as you priests so often seem to forget, Kafira herself was a Zaeri.”

“Don’t presume to teach doctrine to me.”

“Fine.  Politics then.  If I have to, I will have you removed from Birmisia and sent back to Brech.”

“There is a word for defying the authority of the Church,” hissed Mother Linton.  “It’s heresy.”

“Yes.  I could be burnt at the stake,” said Iolanthe.  “If it were three hundred years ago.  There’s a word for defying my authority too.  It’s called treason, and they hang people for it.  Still.”

“You care nothing for Kafira or the Church.”

“You are absolutely correct, Mother Linton.  I care only for Birmisia Colony.”

“You care only for your family name.”

“One is the same as the other,” said Iolanthe, her voice cold steel.

“I’ll have you excommunicated.  How will your family name look then?”

“I doubt the Church hierarchy will be so inclined when I show them the evidence that you had Yuan Weiss try to assassinate me.”

“I…”  Mother Linton gulped for air.  “I never did any such thing.”

“Oh, I admit that some of the evidence had to be manufactured, but it is very convincing.  Here comes our ‘chicken salad’.”

The lizzie waiter returned and placed a large plate in front of each woman.  Iolanthe picked up her fork and took a bite.

“No,” she said.  “This is nowhere near as fine as Café Etta.  Aalwijn Finkler knows how to run a top-notch establishment.  You know, I believe he is a Zaeri.  And if I’m not mistaken, he married a nice Kafirite girl.  I wonder.  Do they attend your church or do they go to shrine?”

Mother Linton glared back.  She had not touched her food.  Iolanthe took another bite.

“Do you know what they have done to the Zaeri in Freedonia?” she asked.  “They chased most of them out.  Those who couldn’t get out, they herded into work camps.  They murdered tens of thousands of them.”

“That’s just propaganda.”

“No it isn’t.  It’s the truth.  And after the war is over and the extent of the Freedonian atrocities is revealed, good compassionate Kafirites everywhere are going to be shocked and angered at what was done in their name.  Freedonia will become synonymous with prejudice, hatred, and evil.  And the world will look at Birmisia, and what will they see?”

Mother Linton said nothing.

“They will see harmony.  They will see Kafirites and Zaeri working together for the greater good of Brechalon.  And they will see my family as the architects of this veritable utopia.  But there will be plenty of rewards to go around.  I offer you a part of this.  You don’t have to let go of your prejudice and hatred.  You just have to swallow it way down inside, and not let it back out.”

“For all your arrogance, you cannot see the future,” said Mother Linton.  “The Freedonians may march right over this city tomorrow.”

“I do not think so.”

“Are you counting on your Zaeri witch to save you?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.  What are you counting on?”

“What would you have me do?” asked Mother Linton sullenly.

“Do what you should be doing.  I don’t care whether you let lizzies in the church or not—I gather there aren’t that many interested anyway.  Just let those mixed families like the Finklers and the Korlanns attend church together.  You might even find a new convert.  You will need someone to replace Yuan Weiss after all.”

There were about two dozen guests at Iolana Staff’s Accord Day party, ranging in age from the girl’s contemporaries like Willa Tice to young adults like Saba and his wife.  It was an odd sort of grouping, Saba thought, and he asked his mother about it when he saw her poke her head out of the kitchen.

“The girl reads too much,” said Mrs. Colbshallow.  “She doesn’t have much in common with the other children her age.  I think she would have invited only adults if she had her druthers.”

“How is Mrs. Dechantagne?  I hear she’s not feeling well.”

“She’s taking the cure.”

“Taking the cure?  From what… drink?”

“First things first,” replied his mother.  “Governor Staff is taking good care of her.  She won’t let her out of her sight.”

“Did you have to make all the food?”  Saba watched the lizzies, wearing red, white, and blue aprons passing out finger foods.

“Oh heavens no,” his mother replied.  “It’s all catered.”

One of the lizzies waved an appetizer tray in his direction and Saba examined the tiny sausages, little cheese pies, dainty meat pasties, and roasted shrimps.  With her free hand, the servant passed him a small plate, and he picked one of each of the items.

“Get an extra sausage,” advised Shemar Morris, scooping up several sausages for himself.  “They’re fantastic.”

Saba wondered if he should gather a plate for Loana, but looking around, he didn’t see her.

He followed Shemar around the corner and saw him begin to circle the group of girls in the parlor, like a predator trying to separate one from the pack.  From the flash of eyes and the giggles, he knew that the girls had spotted their would-be hunter and were not overly worried.  Gabrielle Bassett, Dutty Speel, and Hero Hertling all undoubtedly knew the truth: that the real threat was from each other.  In a land where women outnumbered men, the young ladies wielded their charms like fishing lures.  Gabby with sparkling blue eyes and a face like an angel, and Hero with her long raven locks and thick exotic lips, both had the advantage over the rather blank looking Dutty.  Eleven year old Sherree Glieberman, standing next to the three older girls, tried to continue whatever conversation they had been having, but their attention was all on Shemar.

Continuing through the house, Saba found his wife in close consultation with Wenda Lanier.  He walked up to ask her if he could bring her a plate of food, but she spoke before he had a chance to.

“Saba, there is a rumor that Billingbow’s is being served in the foyer.  Be a dear and bring me one.”

Saba nodded and turned on his heel to head toward the foyer.  There was no soda water there, but the front door was open and on the front portico, he found a large barrel filled with ice, frosty bottlenecks sticking out.  He pulled out three—one for Loana and one for himself, and an extra in case Wenda wanted one.

As he turned to step back inside, he noticed a huddle of young men near the corner of the house.  Stepping toward them, he caught a snippet of the conversation.

“It’s on for the tenth.  Then it’s smooth sailing…”

The face of Walter Charmley turned toward Saba, then turned back to shush the speaker.  The rest of the group faced the police inspector and it was as if the fates had conspired to place in one small spot all the mischief making talent of Port Dechantagne.  Warden Charmley was next to his brother, along with young Ascan Tice, newcomer Maro McCoort, Hertzal Hertling, and the obvious ringleader Graham Dokkins.

“Just what are you young gentlemen planning?” wondered Saba.

“Nothing that concerns the police,” said Graham, who had been the one speaking before.

“You’re not planning any more dinosaur races are you Graham?”

“Like I said, nothing that concerns the police.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt is all—you or Walter or these other boys.”

“It wasn’t me,” said Walter.  “It was Warden.”

“Shut up,” said Warden.

“Just be careful boys.”  Saba turned and went for the front door.

“Saba.”  The police inspector turned back around.  Graham stepped very close to him.

“You haven’t heard anything about Staff’s expedition, have you?  About Senta?”

“No.”

“Well… because Maro is worried, and all.”

“I’m sure we’ll hear something soon.”

Back inside, Saba was looking for his wife who seemed to have disappeared again, when he almost literally ran into Dot Shrubb.  Wearing a bright pink dress, her copper hair parted in the middle and pulled back in long curls, Dot stood out in a not unpleasant way.

“Hello.  I didn’t know you were here,” said Saba.  “Is Eamon with you?”

Dot shook her head.  “Working.”

“How are you?”

She shrugged.

“I didn’t know you were friends with Iolana.”

“Church.”

“Oh, I see.  Um, have you seen my wife?”

“Out back.  WC.”

“Oh.”

“Everyone!” Iolana Staff called from the edge of the room.  “It’s time to go to the garden for games.”

She shot out the door, trailed by Willa Tice and four other girls as well as a single nine year old boy.  The older guests followed along.  Saba noticed that Shemar Morris had been landed by Gabrielle Bassett.  All was not lost for the other girls though.  Dutty Speel walked arm in arm with Benny Markham, and Hero Hertling held hands with Marzell Lance.  Of the group, only Sherree Glieberman was unescorted.  Saba followed along with everyone else and found Loana waiting outside.

In the garden, party goers played croquet or Hightower, and then the girls watched the boys run sack races.  The lizzies brought out cucumber sandwiches and lemonade and they all ate sitting on folding wooden chairs around the gazebo, while they listened to music from a mechanical player.  Afterwards, they played Doggy Doggy and Honey, Do You Love Me, and just as the sun was going down No Ghost Out Tonight.

Then it was time for dinner.  In the back of the house a long table had been set up with thirteen chairs down each side and one at the table’s head.  Each place was labeled.  In addition to the party guests, Iolana’s mother the Governor, Saba’s mother, and Cissy the lizzie joined the group.  Saba and Loana were seated at the far end from the young hostess, who sat at the head.  This was fine, as far as Saba was concerned, but his wife immediately hissed at him.

“Why is she seated there?”

Saba looked where Loana indicated and saw Dot Shrubb seated between Iolanthe and his mother, not a seat that he would have chosen for himself.  But he had to admit that it did show some status.

“Well, Dot’s well thought of,” he said.

The evening was topped off with fireworks.  The party was a great success.  All in all it was one of the most memorable Accord Days that Saba had ever experienced.

Iolanthe passed through the kitchen where two lizzies were cleaning up the breakfast dishes.  The house was quiet.  Stepping down the hallway, she peered into the library and saw Iolana again in her uncle’s chair, reading.

“Good morning Iolana.”

“Good morning Mother,” said Iolana, looking up.

“Are you still reading Garstone?”

“No.  This is Sable Agria.”

“Good god.  It’s not Virgins in Spring is it?”

“No.  It’s Three Marks for a Pfennig.”

“That’s hardly appropriate reading material for a little girl.”

Iolana hugged the book closer as though her mother might snatch it from her grasp.

“Still, at least it’s not that socialist.”

“I think Agria is a Tory,” said Iolana.

“Hmm.  It’s been a long time since I’ve had time to read any of our books.”

“I think books are wonderful.”  Iolana jumped up, setting her book on the lamp table, and pulling a large volume from the bookcase.  “Look what I found.  It’s a picture book of Brech City.”

“I had forgotten about that book.  I don’t think it’s very up to date.”

“It has photographs in it.”

“Photographs have been around for more than seventy or eighty years.”

“Oh, well, look at this.”  The girl opened the book to a page in the middle.  “Here’s Hexagon Park and on this side is the Great Plaza.”

Iolanthe sat down on the arm of the chair and looked down at the book.  “Here’s that café I used to like.”

“Really?  I think Brech must be wonderful.  Do you think I could visit it someday?”

“Of course.  In fact our house in the city is just down this street here.”  She pointed to a spot in the photograph just above and to the right of the café entrance.

“Is it a nice house?”

“Far too big, in my opinion.  But then you can judge for yourself when you go.”

“When can I?”

“Oh you will take Brech by storm some day.  But first you must learn how to be a hostess.  Are you ready?  Accord day is only four days away.”

“Yes.  No.  Maybe.  I don’t know what I’m going to say to all those people.”

“You only have twenty three guests.”

“Twenty three is a lot of people,” said Iolana.

“Perhaps you could quote Garstone to them.  Half of them are Zaeri.  They’re probably all socialists.”

“Auntie Yuah isn’t a socialist.”

“Where is Auntie Yuah?”

“She went out just after you left for the office.”

“And what about Augie and Terra?”

“Egeria came and took them with her.”

“You didn’t go with her again.  Don’t you like the Korlanns?”

“Of course I do.  Zeah is very nice and he says that I may call him Grandpa if I wish.  Egeria is very nice too.  But…”

“But what?”

“They don’t have any literature.  All they have are scriptures and mathematics texts.”

A bubbling laugh sprang from Iolanthe’s lips.  “You are a dear girl.”

Iolana’s eyes lit up.

Hearing a hiss from behind her, Iolanthe turned.

“Sada here,” said Narsa from the doorway.

“Come Iolana,” said Iolanthe.  “If you can put your books away for a while, Police Inspector Colbshallow will take us to lunch at the café.”

“Do you think he can afford to take us out on his salary?”

Iolanthe laughed again.  “Probably not.  So you can pay for lunch from your allowance.”

Iolana jumped up and followed her mother into the parlor.  Saba Colbshallow was waiting.  He had thrown on his police uniform jacket, probably to replace his bloodstained day coat.  This reminded Iolanthe that she had yet to change her dress.  She excused herself, leaving her daughter to entertain the young inspector—it would be good practice for Iolana, she thought—and with Narsa in tow, made her way up to her bedroom.  Once there, she had the reptilian help her into a blue dress that she had been saving for Radley’s return.  She thought it really didn’t matter.  Like most men, Radley didn’t much notice whether a dress was new or not.  He preferred to see it removed.

“I vring Ssiszornic and childs to house today,” said Narsa.

“What’s that?”

“Ssiszornic, elder, and childs to house today.”

“Oh, yes.  Very good.”

Arriving again at the bottom of the stairs, Iolanthe called for her daughter and the police inspector and then went out the front door to where Saba had parked his vehicle.  He helped Iolana into the back and Iolanthe into the passenger seat, then added some coal to the firebox and climbed into the driver’s side.

“Have you decided where you wish to dine?” asked Iolanthe.

“Aalwijn’s new cook is at Café Etta.  He’s good, but now it’s so busy there.  I was thinking we should go to the bakery.”

“You are such a silly boy,” said Iolanthe.  “If everyone is eating at Café Etta, then that’s where we must luncheon.  It’s not as if we will have to wait for a table.  And think of the cachet you’ll have dining with me.”

“I have all the cachet I need,” replied Saba.  “Cash on the other hand…”

“Oh, don’t worry.  Iolana is buying us lunch.”

Saba glanced over his shoulder at the girl.

“Café Etta it is then,” he said, making a left turn down the parkway.

“What did you do with him?” Iolanthe asked in a low voice.

Saba glanced back once again at the girl, then turned back around and said. “He won’t bother you.”

“Did you..?”

“Maybe it’s best I don’t say right now.”

“Mind you, I have no problem with that in theory.   However, I wouldn’t want to soil your conscience with deeds done on my behalf.”

“My conscience is fine.”

“What are you talking about?” wondered Iolana.

“Police business,” said her mother, without missing a beat.  “Saba wants to hire a wizard for the police department.”

“Kasia Garstone says wizards are tools of the oppressors.”

Zurfina stepped away from the vehicle and Saba pulled away from the curb, stopping at the corner to check for oncoming traffic.  There were no other steam carriages on Bainbridge Clark Street, so he started to pull forward.  A sudden movement on his left prompted him to pull on the brake, and two massive creatures ran past, barely missing the front end of his car.  Two three ton iguanodons raced side by side north up the street, their relatively small front legs tucked in close as they relied on their large back legs to sprint at more than twenty five miles an hour.  They bumped into one another as they ran, and one huge tail smacked a small tree in a planter on the sidewalk, knocking it over.  Saba stood up from his seat.  It was only then that he saw the two dinosaurs had humans riding on their backs.

Sitting back down and releasing the break, Saba stamped his foot down on the forward accelerator and turned north, following the stampeding beasts.  The toppled tree was not the only damage left in their wake.  A lamppost had been bent.  Hopefully there was no gas leak.  A small flowerbed in the median had been trampled.  The speeding vehicle was faster than the running dinosaurs though and as the monsters reached First Avenue, he was right on their tails.  He pressed the horn producing an ah-oogah.

“Rein those animals in!” he shouted.

The dinosaurs did in fact have reins, though not bits and bridles as a horse would have had.  Never-the-less, the riders brought them to a quick halt.  Saba took the carriage out of gear and threw on the brake, then jumped down and ran forward.  He was careful to stay out of the way of the stamping feet and waving tails of the panting brutes.  On the back of the first dinosaur sat one of the Charmley twins, Saba couldn’t tell if it was Walter or Warden.  On the other dinosaur was Graham Dokkins.

“What the hell is this?” shouted Saba.

“Great, isn’t it?” said Graham, sliding down the iguanodon’s side to the ground.  “I invented the bridle myself.  Stinky is already used to it, but Molly’s still a bit testy.”

“You battered a lamppost!”

Graham looked off to the south.  “I didn’t hear an explosion.”

“Lucky
for you.”  Saba looked up at the Charmley boy.  “Get down here.”

“Come on Saba,” said Graham.

“Don’t you ‘come on’ me.  You’re under arrest.  How’s that?”

“There’s no law against riding a dinosaur in town.”

“Really?  Are you sure about that?”

“Yep.”

“How about destruction of public property?  How about contributing to the delinquency of a minor?”

“How about police brutality?” countered Graham.

“Oh, I’ll show you brutality.  Somebody could have been trampled to death.”

“We picked a quiet street,” said the boy.

“You keep your trap shut, Walter.”

“I’m Warden.”

“I don’t care which one you are.  Wait till I tell your mother.”

The boy’s face whitened.

“Your mother has long since given you up for a delinquent,” Saba told Graham.  “But I don’t think she would want to see you in jail.  It’s out of concern for her that I’m not running you in.  But you’re going to pay for any damage done.”

“Fine,” said Graham, unrepentant.

“Too right,” said Saba.  “Now walk these animals home.”

“I’m taking my animals home,” said Graham.  “But I’m going to speak to the City Council.  I’m going to get official permission to ride a dinosaur in town, and then you won’t have a thing to say.”

Graham turned around and collected the loose reins from his dinosaur and the one that Warden had been riding.  Then he led them around Saba and his steam carriage and down the street.  The two dinosaurs trotted along behind him as well-behaved as any domesticated beasts.  Warden looked at Saba for a moment, and then followed.  Saba walked forty feet up the road to the police call box that stood on its own shoulder-high post.  He pulled out his constable key and opened the red door, then began tapping the telegraph plunger inside, sending a message back to the station to inform them of the damaged street lamp.

“Trouble?” asked Femke Kane.  She and her husband, Croffut, and Werthimer had crossed from the far side of the courtyard.

“You could say,” replied Bratihn.  “Where’s Brown?”

“We didn’t see him come out,” replied Croffut.

“Bugger and Blast!”

“It’s not your fault,” said Senta.  “You told us all how to find our way out.”

“He was frightened out of his wits,” said Vever.  “And I don’t blame him.  I was too.”

“I had better go find him,” said Bratihn.

“I’ll go with you,” said Senta.

“So will I,” added Croffut.

“Good.  That’s enough.  I don’t want to lose anyone else down there.  The rest of you, do what you can for Mr. Vever.  He has a broken arm and I don’t know what else.”

“We’ll take care of him,” said Werthimer, just as a particularly loud cry echoed from the Unterirdisches Esser somewhere below.

The reverberating cries continued as the young sorceress and the two former soldiers went back down into the narrow chamber, following the path the party had taken before.

“There are two possibilities,” said Bratihn, when they had reached the intersecting hallway.  “Either Brown made it all the way to this point and just continued on, in which case I figure he’ll end up somewhere out in front of the fortress, or he got mixed up at the intersection up ahead.  So we’ll try the left branch there first.  If we don’t find anything, we’ll try the center branch.”

The others nodded their agreement.

From the tee junction the left branch of the corridor stretched out into the darkness well over three hundred feet before it ended with stairs dropping down.  The three descended.  Senta counted eighty seven steps before losing her place, but she later thought that this must have only been about halfway to the bottom.

“I hope we don’t have to run back up these,” said Croffut.

As if his words were a signal, the roaring monster in the distance behind them suddenly became quiet.

“I don’t know which is worse,” remarked Bratihn.  “Hearing that abomination, or knowing he’s there and not hearing.”

“The latter,” Senta decided.

At the bottom of the steps, the hallway continued its course for another fifty feet and then ended at another open doorway.  Bratihn leaned in and held up the lantern.

“Can you cast another of those really bright spells?” he asked.

“I need to cast it on something I can see.”

“If you look up there you can see something just sticking down—maybe a stalactite.”

Senta looked up and did see something just reaching down from the very high ceiling above, into the dim light of the lantern.  She aimed her spell at it.

“Regnum uuthanum riyah.”

A ball of light exploded into existence revealing a square fifty by fifty foot room.  The object to which the magic light was attached was not a stalactite, but a tube growing from the ceiling.  It looked as though it had been crafted of mud.  As they examined it, out from the end dropped a spider, its body the size of human head, quickly descending on a thin strand of silk.  Bratihn pulled his rifle to his shoulder and shot it.  A good portion of its guts sprayed out the other side and it curled into a ball.  Then the spider dropped from its webbing and fell to the bottom of the chamber, making a splash in dark water which they could now see reached to all four corners of the room.  It was impossible to tell how deep it was.  Though the dead arachnid sank, it reappeared on the surface a second later.

“I really don’t want to try to wade across,” said Croffut.

“No you don’t,” said Senta.  “There is something down there that isn’t right.  I can feel it.”

“We’re not going to wade across it,” replied Bratihn.  “If Brown did, then he’s a damn fool.  Kafira only knows how deep this is or what it is that’s causing you to feel that way.  I’ve seen enough to take you as an authority.”

“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.”

“It’s a shame,” said Vever, though he didn’t complete the proverb.  “That youth is wasted on the young.”

“Would you like me to carry your pack for a while, Mr. Vever?” asked Senta.

“I would never allow a young lady…”

She patted Vever, who was a foot shorter than she was, twice on the top of his head and then grabbed the pack by one of the loops on the back and lifted it off his shoulders.  Pointing downward and swirling around her index finger, she said “Uuthanum Izesic.”  She tossed the backpack into the air just above where she had pointed, and it plopped onto an invisible surface, three feet above the ground.  Senta smiled and continued on, following Croffut who was none the wiser.  The backpack and whatever transparent thing supported it, followed five feet behind her.

Staff and Vever stopped walking and wondered at the hovering object.  As they stood thus amazed, Paxton Brown rushed past them.  Catching up with the invisible transport, he flung his own pack on top of Vever’s.  Now both haversacks followed along in the air behind the girl.

“Do you think I could..?” asked Buttermore, puffing up beside them.

Staff turned to see that the entire column, besides Senta, Croffut, and Brown were bunched up around him.  He shrugged.  They hurried to catch up to the sorceress and one by one began placing their backpacks on what Staff began to think of as the invisible wagon.  By trial, they eventually determined that it was a disk about three feet in diameter.  They were only able to get seven packs to stay on it, and then only by balancing them one on the other in a three story pyramid.  In the end, they were so distracted by the game that they scarcely noticed the miles that had passed, and even Brown’s complaining had ceased.

An angry screech brought their attention back to their surroundings.  Hopping down the sloping landscape from their right was a pack of frightening beasts.  Staff didn’t quite know whether most of the animals in Mallon belonged in the dinosaur family or the bird family, and these did little to unmuddy the question.  They were fifteen to twenty feet long, slightly larger than the utahraptors seen near Port Dechantagne.  From their shoulders back, they were covered with brilliant crimson feathers with a dash of black on the tufts of their tails.  Their heads were feathered in black.  They had large lizard-like mouths filled with knife-like teeth.  Eight of the creatures ran, in little fits and starts, toward the line of humans.

The stock of Staff’s rifle was at his shoulder before he realized he had slipped it over his arm.  He aimed at the first creature’s head and fired.  The thirty caliber bullet exploded out the back of its skull.  The spent cartridge clanged onto a large rock at his feet and he targeted a second charging animal.  But the first one didn’t fall down.  It kept running, going right past him and continuing down the slope for several hundred more feet, its legs no longer directed by its brain, but continuing to kick anyway.  His second target he shot twice, once in the neck and once in the chest.  He heard a couple of shots fired by the others, but by this time the entire pack was upon them.

Staff didn’t let the sounds of battle distract him.  He fired quickly at a third and fourth beast.  He heard Vever’s voice shouting over the others and he heard Brown screaming.  The crack of rifle fire was suddenly overpowered by an even louder crack as a tremendous bolt of lightning shot horizontally across the hillside.  Staff fired one more time, but the crimson-plumed monster in his sights was already dead—killed by the lightning.  Looking around he saw it was the last one.

“Surgeon!” yelled Werthimer, out of habit, as he jumped toward the prone form of Mr. Brown.

Staff picked his way through the large feathered bodies to where the man lay.  A quick examination revealed however that he was unharmed.  He had apparently fainted from sheer terror.  The only one injured was Manring, who had dived out of the way of the vicious claws, but not quite quickly enough, and had sustained a horrible gash across his forearm.  Staff quickly drew a healing draught from his pack and poured half of the contents of the small brown bottle onto the cut and had Manring drink the remaining potion.  Within seconds the bleeding had stopped and the injury had already begun to heal.

“Thank heavens for magic,” said Mr. Vever.

“Yes,” agreed Staff, then turning to look at Senta.  “I assume that was your magical lightning?”

The girl nodded.

“These are beautiful,” said Femke Kane, holding up a long black tail feather.  “Perhaps we should take some to present to the lizzies in Tsahloose.”

“Alright,” replied Staff.  “We earned them I suppose.”

At breakfast, there were five diners—Iolanthe, Mrs. Colbshallow, and all three of the household children.  Starr served kippers, fried eggs, deviled kidneys, and peaches.  Deviled kidneys were a favorite of young Augustus, but Iolana and Terra wanted nothing more than porridge—porridge with milk from real, live, Birmisian cows.

“Did this come from Egeria?” questioned Iolanthe.

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Colbshallow.  “She sent Chunny over with a gallon.”

“Then we must find a way to pay her back.  Let’s invite the Korlanns for dinner next week.”

Mrs. Colbshallow raised her eyebrows.

“What?” demanded Iolanthe.  “Yes, Zeah’s a former servant.  So are you.  My former dressing maid is now my sister-in-law for all that.  I regularly eat with a lizzie at the table, come to that.”

“It’s not that,” replied Mrs. Colbshallow.  “I thought you had some antipathy for the wife.”

“Of course not.  I do recall her having dined with us in the past, and I know Zeah has.”

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Colbshallow.  “But it was months ago in the case of the latter and years ago in the case of the former.”

Iolanthe smiled crookedly.  “It’s as you say.  She is the children’s grandmother.”

“Do you want to play jacks with us after breakfast, Auntie Iolanthe?” asked Terra in her peculiar little voice.

“You have your tutor, don’t you?”

“No Mother.  Master Brown is gone with Father to Tsahloose,” said Iolana.  “We have independent study until he returns.”

“Oh yes, I had forgotten.  In answer to your query Terra, I have to be at my office.  Perhaps Cissy will play with you—or your mother.  Where is your mother?”

“She’s not feeling well again today,” said Augie.

Iolanthe wiped her mouth with her napkin, and then placed it on her plate.  Before she could push the chair back on her own, Garrah was pulling it out for her.  She stomped to the doorway with the foyer and turned back around to look at her daughter.

“Independent study still means study.”

“Don’t worry Mother.  I plan to study.”

“I have no doubt of that.  Make sure that your cousins do too.”

“Blinking heck!” said Augie.

“You watch your mouth young man,” said Mrs. Colbshallow.  “I will have Garrah wash it out with soap.”

Iolanthe was already halfway up the stairs.  When she reached the top, she turned once again toward Yuah’s door.  When she knocked, she received the same reply that she had the previous day.  She balled up her fist and pounded.  There was still no answer.  Retracing her steps back a few feet, she opened the tiny drawer in the occasional table against the wall between the door to Yuah’s room and the door to the nursery.  The drawer was empty but for a large brass key.  Taking the key, she went back and stuck it in the keyhole just above the doorknob, turned it, and then pushed the door open.

Yuah’s bedroom was probably the most luxurious in the house.  Terrence had denied her nothing while he was alive, though even Iolanthe admitted in her own thoughts that he could have shown the girl more affection.  The wallpaper, with its intricate pattern of pink roses between golden bars, was difficult to see.  The color of the carpet was indistinguishable.  The pink lace curtains on both the windows had been covered over with heavy blankets and very little light entered the room.  Yuah was lying on the bed, eyes half closed.  For a moment, Iolanthe thought she was dead, but then saw her breathing.

“Yuah?”

Her sister-in-law didn’t move.  Iolanthe crossed to the window and pulled one of the heavy blankets away, allowing a bright beam of morning light to enter.  It fell directly across Yuah’s face, but she didn’t react.

“Yuah!”

On the intricately wrought stand in the corner was the antique wash basin.  Though it had not been used, the pitcher was still filled with cool clear water from the night before.  Iolanthe grabbed the pitcher by the handle and dumped it over Yuah’s head.

“Ack!  Bloody hell!” sputtered Yuah, and then jumped to her feet.  “You stupid cow!  What do you think you’re doing?”

“Are you bladdered, Yuah?”

“No.  I just don’t feel well.  Now get out.”

“You are bladdered.  You have yesterday’s dress on, your eyes are bloodshot, and you smell like you’ve peed yourself.  You’re ass over tit and it’s not even nine o’clock!”

With the suddenness of a viper strike, Yuah’s arm lashed out, her hand slapping Iolanthe solidly across the face, with a smack that could be heard all over the upper floor of the house.  A tiny fraction of a second had passed before Iolanthe’s left hand returned the favor, leaving its bright red impression across Yuah’s pale cheek.  Yuah balled up her fist and hit, stepping into the punch like a prize fighter.  She struck her sister-in-law in the right eye.  Iolanthe fell back down onto her bustle and rolled backwards, smacking both her head and the pitcher in her right hand onto the floor.  The antique porcelain exploded into a mass of white and cornflower blue pieces.