A look of fear dawned in his eyes.
“Don’t worry, Dick. I won’t forget about you. Do you know what a velociraptor is?”
“No,” he said, standing up.
“Don’t worry. You will. I’m going to feed you to them, one little bite at a time.”
She hadn’t finished her sentence, when the man was already hurrying in a loping gate toward the building. The sorceress paid him no more attention. She looked up at the barren branches of the tree and watched as a small bead formed and dropped—a tiny shining speck of magic. She held out her hand and caught it, watching it dissolve into her skin. It was a miniscule bit of energy, hardly enough to move a pfennig across the table.
“Uuthanum,” she sighed.
* * * * *
The two orderlies slammed her down onto the table. Senta tossed her head from one side to the other as Nurse Pyle applied the connections to either temple. Looking down at her patient, the nurse let the gag hang loosely from her hand.
“Are you going to open your mouth and let me put this in?”
“Go to hell, you heinous bitch!”
“Miss Bly,” said Pyle. “You can continue to fight us at every turn or you can accept your treatment.”
“Why would I do something like that?”
“If you can’t be cured this way, the doctor may have to take a more radical approach.”
“Like what?”
“Like a lobotomy.”
Chapter Two: Lady Terra
Lord Augustus Marek Virgil Dechantagne, Earl of Cordwell, March Lord of Birmisia, Viscount Dechantagne, and Baron of Halvhazl, stood in the parlor, looking out the front window. A dragonfly, somewhat larger than the palm of his hand, flew up to hover just on the other side of the glass from his face. The two stared at each other for a moment, and then the insect buzzed away. The young nobleman had grown from a chubby boy to a tall, fit young man. He had gained three inches in height just since his fifteenth birthday half a year before.
“It’s bloody warm today,” he said, brushing back his chestnut hair. “It’s going to be a hot summer.”
“If you say so, Augie,” said his fifteen-year-old sister, who sat on the sofa embroidering a tea cloth. Her own dull, brown hair fell limply over her shoulders. Her voice was deep for a girl, but rather weak and scratchy. “You know best.”
The youth snapped his fingers and a hulking lizardman entered to stand beside him. The monstrous creature was seven feet tall, dwarfing the human. He was covered with bumpy skin, light olive down his front from the dewlap below his long snout, and deep forest green on his back and down the length of the long powerful tail that hung behind him, the tip a few inches off the floor. He looked like a cross between an anthropomorphic iguana and an alligator.
“A cup of tea,” said Lord Dechantagne. “And one for my sister too.”
“I don’t think I want tea,” she said, without looking up.
“Yes, Little Worm, you do.”
“If you say so, Augie.”
The reptilian servant nodded and hurried from the room.
The young man left the window and walked to the chair by the fire, where the third member of the family slumbered. His mother was still a great beauty at forty-four years of age, though her dark brown hair now had several thick streaks of grey. Yuah Dechantagne was still in her dressing gown, with one leg thrown over the side of the chair and her head tucked into the back corner. A single long snore escaped her thick, well-formed lips. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
“Do you want to go up for your nap, Mother?”
“I’m not asleep,” she said, sleepily. “I’m just resting my eyes.”
With a sigh, he left her and sat beside his sister.
“She’s been gone four years now,” he said.
“I know. I can hardly believe it has been so long, but I’ve decided to join her as soon as Auntie Iolanthe will let me.”
“What in the deuces are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about going to Brech City. I’m going to live with Cousin Iolana. I miss her so.”
“Well, I wasn’t talking about Iolana. And I don’t think you’ll be allowed to go live with her. That girl does nothing but spend money on parties and clothes. There’s no telling what trouble she’s getting into.”
“What do you expect? The poor thing’s lost her father.” She stopped and looked around, and then continued at a much lower volume. “And honestly, would you want Auntie Iolanthe as a mother?”
“Auntie only wants the best for all of us. Besides, we lost our father too.”
“You don’t remember Father, and I wasn’t even born when he died.”
“When he was killed, you mean… killed by the lizzies. Anyway, Uncle Radley was like a father to me.” He turned to the reptilian servant arriving with a large tea tray. “Set it here, and there better be some milk. I’m tired of drinking my tea like a savage.”
“I miss Uncle Radley too,” continued Terra. “I think he was the most level-headed person I ever met. Plus he told me he would buy me a car when I turned fourteen. Here I am, almost sixteen and no car.”
“I’ll buy you a car.”
He poured two cups of tea and then added milk to his and sugar to hers. After handing the cup to her, he took his and leaned back into the sofa.
“I wasn’t talking about Iolana. I was talking about the sorceress.”
“You mean Senta? Oh, I expect she’s dead. Don’t you?”
“Don’t be daft. Nothing can kill her.”
“Oh, I think anyone can be killed,” said Terra. “That green dragon died and the lizzies worshipped him as a god.”
“Yes, and look who killed him: Senta, that’s who. And she wasn’t even at her full magic power yet. Dragons aren’t gods anyway. The lizzies just worship them because they’re too ignorant to know any better.”
“If you say so, Augie. You know best.”
She set her half-empty teacup on the tray and moved her needlepoint from her lap onto the arm of the sofa before standing up.
“Zandy, would you fetch Kristee please?” she called to the lizzie standing nearby. “I need to change into my walking dress.”
“Where are you going?” asked Augie.
“Where else do I ever go around here? I’m going visiting.”
“Be home in time for dinner. I have something I want to talk to you about. Oh, and will you be visiting Miss Likliter?”
“That seems likely.”
“Then see if you can find out about the new brown hat I ordered from her mother.”
“Whatever you say, Augie.”
Exiting the parlor, Terra took a right turn and hurried up the sweeping staircase. At the top of the stairs, she made a right down the long hallway, and then turned left to find her bedroom door just to the right. Her lizzie dressing maid was already waiting for her.
Terra’s bedroom was not as large as Augie’s. It wasn’t even as large as Iolana’s, which was kept just as she left it four years before. Still, it would have seemed like a palace to most girls her age. At one end were a large four-poster bed, a wardrobe, nightstand, washstand, a cheval glass, and a vanity. At the other end was an arrangement of the girl’s hobbies—a bookcase, an easel for her landscape painting, a small workbench where she painted her china, and a comfy chair next to a fireplace with her sewing kit on the right hand side.
“I’ll take my blue walking dress, if you don’t mind.” Then, when the lizzie moved too slow. “Ssiss zat annach etehos tsisia khikhiino.”
Like most of the young generation who had been born in Birmisia, Terra could speak the language of the natives. She could in fact speak it as well as any human, with the possible exception of her brother and the very definite exception of her cousin Iolana, who had left the half-finished manuscript of a lizzie dictionary when she moved back to Brech City to attend University.
Terra ran the dressing wand down the length of her spine, magically unfastening the thirty odd buttons of her
morning dress. Once she had stepped out of it, she took a quick look at her foundations in the cheval glass. Brech women wore nearly a dozen layers of various undergarments, including a large rear bustle. The girl had heard that bustles were going out of fashion in Freedonia—they had been out of style in Mirsanna for some time—but the idea of going out without something to accentuate her bottom was a bit frightening. Kristee helped pass the dress over Terra’s head, and put her arms through the sleeves. It was a simple blue plaid bodice and overdress with a solid sky blue underdress that peeked out below the knees. Once the lizzie had buttoned her up, she added a matching hat, white gloves, and her white parasol. The outfit was cute and not at all daring—just like Terra herself.
An hour later saw Terra being driven across town by Walworth Partridge. Walworth had worked for the family as a driver for some years now. Terra believed he was charged with spying on her. The girl didn’t know whether it was Augie or Auntie Iolanthe that paid his wages, not that it really mattered. More and more lately, the two of them seemed to work in unison.
They arrived at the Likliter’s apartment near the center of town. Walworth waited in the car, as Terra made her way through the door and up the stairs to knock just below the appropriate number. Dovie Likliter opened her front door and flashed a bright smile at her visitor. She was a few years older than Terra, with an alabaster complexion. Her vibrantly red hair had been curled into ringlets that fell around her face. She wore a tan skirt and white blouse with a red tie that almost matched her hair.
“Do come in, Lady Terra.”
“Hello, Dovie,” she stepped inside and kissed the older girl on the cheek. “Something smells very nice.”
“I’ve baked an apple pie for tea.”
“You did no such thing!”
“I did, and it came out splendidly, if I do say so myself.” Dovie waved toward the sofa and Terra took a seat. “It still needs to cool a bit, so we can waffle for a while.”
The redhead sat down next to her guest.
“How are you doing anyway?”
“I’m as bored as all get out. All I do is sit around and paint or do my studies.”
“Are you still being tutored by Aaron Pinston? I think he’s quite handsome.”
“Ugh. You may marry him then and live a life of insipidness. He has stolen every bit of joy that learning has ever given me, and I fail to see how his arms stay attached with no humorous bones in his body.”
Dovie laughed. “Surely he can’t be that bad.”
“I seriously thought about stabbing him in the brain with a pencil just to break the monotony.”
“You shouldn’t say ‘seriously’ if you aren’t really serious about something.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” said Terra. “So what is the gossip I’ve been missing out on?”
“Did you hear about the shouting match between Sherree McCoort and Ernst Goose right out in front of the bookstore?”
“I think everyone has heard something about it,” said Terra. “I don’t know if I know the whole story though. What were they fighting about?”
“Oh you know what it was about—about how Sherree treats Maro. He works late, and she’s out running around town, dancing and partying with anyone that will show her a little attention. His whole family can’t stand her, and I don’t think Sherree has taken his cousins into proper account. I wouldn’t want either of those Goose girls angry with me.”
“I’d think that snot would at least be concerned about their other cousin.”
“Bertice Vishmornan?”
“The Drache Girl.”
“Oh… well I suppose Sherree thinks she’s dead. I kind of think that myself.”
“That’s what I said,” said Terra “but Augie says it’s not so.”
“Well your brother doesn’t know everything.”
“I won’t tell him that you said that… and you shouldn’t repeat it in public. You might well wish the Goose girls were after you.”
“Talking of who is after whom, I hear a certain young man may be interesting in Miss Terra Dechantagne.”
“Really? Who?”
“Claude Stephenson.”
“Oh, Claude,” sighed Terra. “He’s been telling me he is going to marry me since we were seven. I think it’s down to his wanting to be brothers with Augie. He certainly never pays me much attention when we’re together. His brother Julius at least climbed up the trellis so that he could look in my window and catch me undressing.”
“The little beast!” gasped Dovie. “I hope you turned him in to the constable.”
“No. At least I was the center of attention for somebody.”
“Wait here,” said Dovie. “The pie should be ready.”
As they drank their tea and ate slices of apple pie topped with shavings of sharp Mirsannan cheese, they discussed the rest of the gossip. Questa Hardt had been turned over by yet another young man. She seemed destined for spinsterhood, as did Abigail Bassett, who was still refusing all comers since the death of her fiancé years ago. The date had finally been set for Talli Archer’s wedding. Sam Croffut had been flip-flopping for years between her and Heidi Arlinton, but apparently, he had finally made his choice. For her part, Heidi was now dating a cousin of the Wissingers.
“My mother would up and die if I married a Zaeri,” said Dovie. “Um, no offense.”
“Oh, no. It’s fine. My mother is Zaeri but my father wasn’t, so technically, if I decided to be a Zaeri, I would have to convert. I don’t suppose it would matter to those Zaeri-haters though. I’m sure they would be more than happy to murder me.”
“You’re going to be a Kafirite then?”
“I’m not sure. Augie says we have to be, for appearances. But I think Iolana’s an atheist. That seems so much simpler, and it leaves your weekends free.”
“Aren’t you worried about going to hell?”
“Not really,” said Terra. “After all, how bad could it be?”
“I suppose I might feel the same way if I lived with Mrs. Government.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised. She’s much worse than she seems. That reminds me, I’m supposed to check with your mother on Augie’s new hat.”
“Well, she is at the shop. Why don’t we just walk on over? I can take her a piece of pie.”
Dovie’s mother was the proprietor of Doreen’s Millinery on Forest, which was a short walk of three blocks. As they passed the car, Terra asked Walworth to pick her up on the corner in forty-five minutes.
“Sounds good, My Lady. That will give me time to swing by Myntner’s. I think we have a bad fitting in back.”
Terra nodded and continued on her way with Dovie.
Doreen’s was a small shop, packed to the rafters with products for sale, but there were no customers when the two girls arrived. The store carried all the latest hats, parasols, belts, and gloves, mostly for women, but with a small selection of items for men.
“I’m afraid your brother’s hat hasn’t arrived yet. I tried to get him to choose something in stock, but he had to special order an item all the way from Brechalon.”
“He is very particular about his clothing,” allowed Terra. “Maybe you have something I could purchase.”
“What are you in the market for, dear?”
“I was thinking of perfume—something to make me stand out. My mother is constantly telling me that I don’t need some expensive scent, but she must rub on twenty-three different types lotion in the course of a day, so I’m no longer taking her as an authority.”
“We have a lovely au de toilet in from Natine.” Dovie’s mother picked up a small spritzer bottle and sent a small cloud drifting toward Terra. “What do you think?”
“I… don’t… think… I… can… breathe...”
“How about this,” said Dovie, pulling her friend across the shop to where a dozen small bottles where arranged in a triangle on the countertop. “This is from Enclep. I think maybe it’s more acceptable.” She opened a bottle and rubbed a bit o
n Terra’s wrist.
“Yes. I quite like this. It’s not so… um…”
“Cloying?”
“I was going to say horrible, but yes. I would like a bottle of this.” She slipped the bottle into the hidden pocket in her overdress. “Would you add the purchase price to Augie’s bill, please?”
“You are a caution, Lady Terra,” laughed Dovie. “I’m going to stay and help Mum for a while, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all. In fact, I’m going to do some shopping next door before Walworth comes to get me.”
The two friends kissed good-bye and then Terra exited the shop, sending the little bell above the door to ringing.
Next door was J.D. Kinney’s 5 and 10 Pfennig Dry Goods and Sundries, which sold everything from packaged foods to notions.
“Good day, Lady Terra,” said the proprietor, immediately leaving the two lizzies he was waiting on and hurrying to greet her. “What can I do for you today?”
“I need a spool of thread: crimson.”
“Right away.” He hurried to the other side of the store to the notions, but returned a minute later with the requested item. “Here you go, My Lady.”
Terra looked at the spool.
“People seem to like crimson. I don’t see what the fuss is, really.” She pointed to the lizzies. “I didn’t mean to take you away from your other customers.”
“Don’t give it a thought, My Lady. What else can I do for you?”
“I’m going to look for a minute.”
“Very good.”
The man returned to the lizzies. Terra half-heartedly examined the soaps, but soon found herself standing behind the two reptilians. She leaned in between the two to see what they were buying.
“Pocket knives? That seems an odd choice. Szess khikhiino ghahk hoonan xiasta?”
“Szessit hoonan xiasta quotack, Zraniss,” replied the lizzie on the left, hunkering down in an attempt to seem smaller, though still towering over the girl.
Terra sighed in annoyance.
“Did he say something inappropriate, My Lady? I’ll throw the lot of them out of here. They probably just don’t know who you are.”
A Plague of Wizards Page 2