The Price of Magic

by Wesley Allison

  “Sembor uuthanum edios nit eetarri!” This time the water turned white like milk. Suddenly red bubbled up from the center. Some powerful magic was preventing her from magically seeing anything at all. She grabbed the edge of the bowl and flipped it out of the circle, spilling contents that were once again just plain ordinary water, across the floor.

  Reaching into her bag again, she pulled out a large jar. I was filled with liquid the color of urine, and suspended within this liquid was a small leathery body, looking something like a cross between a dragon and a human baby. It had a small pointed face with a pinched nose, tiny curled horns, and wings upon its back. She pulled out a second and a third jar. They both contained similar grotesque little creatures. She opened the lids, one after the other, and the little creatures crawled out. They coughed the sickly yellow liquid from their lungs and then stretched out their little leathery wings.

  “Hello, my little ones.”

  The three tiny creatures peered up at her, revealing little black eyes. These were quasits—creatures created by magic to serve her.

  “Someone has the bullocks to use magic against me. Against me!”

  The three little monsters flinched.

  “I want to know who they are and I want to know where they are. You get out there and find them!”

  The three little abominations flitted their wings, spattering the floor with liquid, and flew into the air. Then they shot out the open window.

  Walking down the stairs to the bathroom, Senta sat on the edge of the square pool, dangling her feet into the water. Scooping up some of the cool liquid, she washed the lizzie paint off of herself. She heard a hissing from the doorway and looked up to see Szim talking to her. The spell that allowed her to understand the lizzie had worn off.

  “Sembor uuthanum. What did you say?”

  “Is something the matter?”

  “At least that spell works,” said Senta. Then she answered the lizzie. “I tried to scry out where Zoey was and what she was doing, but there was something blocking my magic.”

  “Is it because she is a god? I have heard it said that magic doesn’t effect them.”

  “That may be true for some, but not for me,” said Senta. “Don’t forget, I killed Hissussisthiss with magic.”

  “Then what could stop you?” wondered the lizzie. “I know you are powerful. I saw you and your magic at Tsahloose. You were stronger than even the high priest.”

  “Who else is in the area that might have powerful magic?”

  “No one… unless…”

  “What?” demanded Senta, climbing to her feet.

  “The lizzies from Xiatooq.”

  “Xiatooq?”

  “Yes. You remember, those who were in the house carved into the root of the mountain. I don’t know what magic they might have, but their ways are strange.”

  Senta remembered the unusual lizzies she had seen—large, with bumpier and darker skin, wearing not just paint and feathers, but brightly colored skirts and capes and large amounts of jewelry.

  “Take me there.”

  Senta followed the lizzie out of the house and through the fortress grounds. The sun was up, but it was still cool. There were few lizzies out and about. The cool air on her naked skin was bracing.

  “They’re not there anymore,” said Szim, as they hurried along. “They left three days ago.”

  “Of course they did,” Senta murmured.

  They reached the spot at which they had seen the lizzies of Xiatooq. The façade of the building reaching out into the garden and the open-air patio just above the first floor were still in the shadows of the mountain. It wasn’t the visible light that Senta saw however. The entire structure, the side of the mountain to the left and right, as well as above, and much of the stone ground around it, were covered in the yellow residue of magic, invisible to most, but oh-so obvious to her.

  “Those bloody bastards!” she growled. “They’ve got Zoey. I don’t know how, but they have her.”

  Turning on her heel, she marched as quickly as she could back to her apartment. She stopped at the door and turned to Szim, who was following along behind her.

  “You need to leave me. I don’t want you anywhere near me for a while. Things are going to get very nasty.”

  The lizzie stared at her for a moment, and then with a quick nod, turned and left. Senta went inside. Szarine had gone for the morning. Back in the bedroom, the sorceress pulled her clothing from her handbag—the black pants and corset that she had worn when she had first arrived at Dragon Fortress. She was just slipping on her high black boots when the three quasits flew back in the window and landed near her feet.

  “You didn’t see anything, did you, you little demons?”

  One of the three turned its back on her and another looked down at its feet while it kicked at an invisible pebble. But the third quasit raised its arms and jumped up and down. She picked it up by its head and looked into its face.

  “So, little Bikindi, what did you see?”

  She squeezed the little creature’s head with the fingers of her right hand until its little black eyes popped out into her left palm, looking like a pair of tiny black ball bearings. Popping them into her mouth, she bit down. They were slippery, but at last she crushed them, her mouth filling with the taste of vile jelly, as images filled her mind.

  It wasn’t the here and now that she saw. The quasits could see beyond the veil of the present reality. It was some time ago—three days, she imagined. She could see the troop of strange lizzies hurrying out of the dragon fortress. Four of them carried a large box, something like a steamer trunk. It was plenty large enough to hold Zoantheria, if she were somehow unconscious.

  But how could these lizzies have disabled Zoey? Dragons were, by their very nature, magical. They were, as Szim had indicated, notoriously unaffected by magical spells. But that was not always the case, Senta reminded herself. She had killed a dragon with a spell: one much larger and more powerful that the little coral dragon. But it had been the most powerful spell in her repertoire, and as far as Senta knew, she was the most powerful magic user in the world.

  “You’ve earned a rest,” she told the little monster, as she dropped it into its jar of urine-colored liquid. She turned to the others. “You, Dante and Ulixes, you two get out and find which way those lizzies from Xiatooq went.”

  Tossing the jars and all her remaining possessions into her handbag, she descended to the large room on the bottom floor. She recited, “Tijiia uuthanum uluchaiia,” as she reached out her hands and molded the air as though it was clay. Between her palms, shadows collected together in a large, familiar shape. She stood back and looked at it. Though it was nothing more than a cloudy shadow, to a human or a lizzie, it would appear as a rugged reptilian warrior. Senta could see it both ways.

  “Well, General, are you ready for your command?”

  The shadowy lizzie threw its right arm across its chest in a salute.

  “Come with me.”

  She walked out the door and through the now familiar pathways to the gate between the two statues of Bessemer. With a wave of her hand, the gate flew open and she stepped out into the sunshine, followed by the shadow form that she had created. When they were several hundred feet away from the gate, she stopped.

  “Tijiia uuthanum uluchaiia,” she recited again, molding another lizzie shape out of the shadow.

  “Here is your army then,” she said. “Uastium premba uuthanum tachthna paj tortestos—sieor!”

  The second shadowy lizzie shook for a second and then split down the middle. Suddenly there were two of them. Then they split again, and then split again, and again. And again. The chain reaction continued until the vast slope of the land leading up to the fortress was filled with thousands of shadowy lizzie warriors.

  “Now, General,” barked the sorceress. “Unleash hell!”

  Chapter Fourteen: The Yellow King

  There was a knock.

  “Come in,” said Lady Iolana.

&
nbsp; The door opened and her father peered inside. He paused for a second, seeing her still in bed, but then he closed the door behind him and stepped across the room to take a seat in the comfy chair by the fireplace.

  “It’s unusual for you to be in bed at this hour,” he said. “Not ill, are you?”

  “No. I’m just being indolent.”

  “Well, you are entitled, I suppose. It’s not everyday you turn fourteen.”

  “No, it isn’t, but it seems like my birthday comes quicker every year.”

  “Wait until you’re my age,” he said. “They fly at you like freight trains. We missed you at breakfast.”

  “Esther brought me breakfast in bed. But I’m about ready to get up and about now.”

  “What are your plans today?”

  Iolana pulled the book, heretofore unnoticed from her side, and placed a silver bookmark between its pages before setting it on the nightstand.

  “We are having our little get-together tonight, and I have a date for tea with Dovie. I thought I would visit some friends this morning.”

  Mr. Staff stood up and walked over to the bedside. He picked up the book as if he was reading the cover, though he didn’t really look at it.

  “You’re a very busy young lady,” he said. “I suppose you soon won’t have any time for me at all.”

  “Don’t be silly, Father. We’re going hunting three days hence. We have to get that therizinosaurus that you’ve been after. Besides, we’ll see each other tonight.”

  “Of course,” he said with a smile. Setting the book back down, he turned and walked to the door. He paused to look back over his shoulder. “You have a present waiting for you downstairs.”

  “I can’t wait,” she said with a smile.

  As soon as Mr. Staff left, Esther entered. She was wearing a cheerful blue sundress.

  “Have you decided what you want to wear?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to clash with you,” said Iolana. “Perhaps my teal skirt, with a white blouse. Do I have a teal tie?”

  “Yes, but you don’t have a matching hat.”

  “Find a bit of teal lace and put it around my white boater. I’m sure Auntie Yuah has some if I don’t.”

  Thirty minutes later, properly attired, Iolana and Esther descended the stairs. As usual for that time of day, Kayden was manning the front door. He opened it and ushered them outside. Sitting right in front of the portico was a new Sawyer and Sons model 12b steam carriage with a large red bow attached to its shiny sky blue bonnet.

  “Golly!” exclaimed Iolana.

  “Do you like it?” asked her father’s voice from behind her.

  “It’s beautiful! Thank you so much!”

  “An important young lady like yourself needs to be able to get around reliably.”

  “Is there room for it in the motor shed?” wondered Iolana.

  “Yes,” replied her father. “I’ve sold the Model 5, and I’m going to sell the cabriolet as well. Now that you have this, no one will drive it.”

  “What about me?” asked a scratchy little voice from behind them.

  “You’re a few years away from driving,” said Mr. Staff, stepping aside to reveal Terra in a white walking dress and a daisy-covered white hat. “I promise though, that when you’re old enough to drive, I’ll buy you your own car as well.”

  “You don’t mind if I come along with you, do you?” the ten-year-old asked her cousin.

  “Of course not,” said Iolana, hurrying over to the driver’s side of the vehicle.

  She quickly climbed aboard, while Terra took the front passenger’s seat and Esther climbed into the back.

  “This is lovely,” said the lizzie.

  “I know.” Iolana gripped the steering wheel and peered through the windscreen. “I wonder how fast she’ll go?”

  “She won’t go at all with a cold boiler,” said Mr. Staff with a laugh. “Let me light it for you.”

  He stepped around to the rear of the car and applied a match to the tinder beneath the coal. Then he stepped around to Iolana’s side.

  “It has plenty of water in it and coal too, so just as soon as it’s hot, you can go. Just keep to a manageable speed.” With that advice, he took the bow off the bonnet and then walked back up the steps and into the house.

  Iolana looked at the array of controls at her feet. Rather than the three simple pedals in the cabriolet, there were five: forward and reverse accelerators, forward and reverse decelerators, and the clutch. Then there were the hand controls: the brake and the gearshift. She ran her fingertips around the steering wheel, and smiled.

  “I think I’ll name you Tsisia,” she said.

  “Oh, that’s a good name,” said Terra. “The lizzie word for of the sky.”

  “Are you ready?” Iolana looked first at Esther and then Terra. Both nodded.

  With what seemed like a practiced hand, she pressed down on the brake lever. Then she threw the gearshift forward while pressing her feet down on the clutch and the forward decelerator. As she slowly let out the clutch, she transferred her right foot from the forward decelerator to the forward accelerator. The blue steam carriage rolled forward.

  “I don’t think you have enough steam,” said Terra.

  “Don’t worry,” replied Iolana. “It’s picking up.”

  The car rolled faster and faster, so that by the time they reached the open gate, it was approaching ten miles per hour. Iolana moved her foot from the accelerator to the decelerator and made a right turn onto the brick-paved street. As the whistle of steam from the vehicle’s rear grew louder, they topped twenty miles per hour, and by the time Iolana made the right turn on Redwood, her passengers had to hold on, lest they be thrown out of the cab. Slamming her feet on the decelerator and the clutch and pulling up on the brake, the fourteen-year-old brought the steam carriage to a skidding stop in front of a pleasant cottage with green shutters.

  “Do you suppose it’s all right just to drop in?” wondered Terra.

  “Of course it is,” said Iolana. “I told Willa that I would probably stop by.”

  “You know, Ascan lives here too,” Terra pointed out. “You don’t want to run into him, do you?”

  “Ascan is at militia training this morning,” said Esther. “He’s there twice a month.”

  “Very civic-minded of him,” said Terra, looking at her cousin. But Iolana said nothing.

  Willa Tice, in a navy-blue day dress, met them at the door. Her long black hair was piled up on her head in a bouffant. She gave both Iolana and Terra a big hug and kiss, and Esther a friendly pat on the shoulder, and led them all into the parlor.

  “You came just at the right time, Lana. I’ve just filled the pot. Sit down. I’ll be mother.”

  After pouring the tea, Willa handed each of her guests a cup.

  “It won’t be long until we can have tea in the garden.”

  “We probably could now,” said Iolana. “It’s really been unseasonably warm this year. Last year this time, we were still stomping around through snow.”

  “How is your brother?” Terra asked Willa while looking at Iolana.

  “I don’t know that we should discuss him,” replied Willa.

  “No, it’s all right,” said Iolana.

  “He went out with a Mirsannan girl yesterday, a new arrival. Her name is Angine Aksoy.” She paused for a sip of tea. “You know, a handsome available young man like him won’t last long in the colony. If a local girl doesn’t stake her claim, an exotic beauty will snap him right up.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” said Iolana, staring into her cup. “I’m sure he’ll settle down with a nice Zaeri girl.”

  “I had once thought that you might be interested, Lana. Then we could have been sisters.”

  “That was just a childish dream,” said Iolana. “Now, enough about your brother. What is the news that you wanted to share, unless of course Ascan’s dating life was your topic, in which case, I find it unsatisfactory.”

  In answer, Willa held out h
er left hand. There on her finger was a thin gold band set with a tiny diamond.

  “Golly.” said Terra. “I didn’t even know you had a beau.”

  “We’ve only officially been on three dates…”

  “You and Marzell?” wondered Iolana.

  “You needn’t say it like that!” said Willa, jerking back her hand.

  “No, no, I like Marzell. It’s just that you’re you, and he’s him.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” demanded Willa.

  “Nothing. It’s just that you’re a great beauty. You could marry anyone you want.”

  “Marzell is a very successful member of the city public works department. Not only that, he’s risen to sergeant in the town militia.”

  “That’s not necessarily a good thing,” said Terra. “What with all the talk of war.”

  “There’s not going to be a war,” said Iolana. “As much as I’m loath to say it, my mother is right. This can all be settled diplomatically. Besides, the lizardmen released the Tarmap brothers and their idiot friends.”

  “They say they escaped,” said Terra.

  “It doesn’t matter. Either way, they’re back home safe. This fellow Hsrandtuss is a decent sort. If we rid ourselves of him, who knows what bloodthirsty warlord might pop up?”

  “I hope you’re right,” said Willa. “Now can we talk about something else?”

  “You’re going to be at my party tonight, aren’t you?” Iolana asked her.

  “Of course, just don’t expect my present to measure up to a steam carriage.”

  “Saw that, did you?”

  “How could I miss it? It’s beautiful.”

  “I’m thinking of driving past Sherree’s house and sounding the horn,” said Iolana.

  “You know, she has her own steam carriage.”

  “Yes, but she didn’t get it until she was sixteen,” Terra pointed out. “Now, I suppose I’ll have to get one when I’m thirteen in order to maintain the Dechantagne name.”