The Dragon's Choice

by Wesley Allison

  “The Drache Girl… and daughter? Well this is quite a surprise.”

  “We are here to purchase one of these creatures you have in your front yard,” said Senta.

  “Oh, well these aren’t for sale. They’re Walter’s. You don’t want them anyway. You want one just hatched, so that it can imprint on you.”

  “Imprint?”

  “Yes, it will think that you are its mother.”

  “I see. Yes, that’s exactly what I want.”

  “Come in and have a cup of tea.”

  She turned and led them into the house to a well-appointed parlor. In addition to the usual furniture and knickknacks, the room contained a dozen large cages, filled with microraptors, the curious four-winged Birmisian birds. In addition, several creatures that looked like miniature troodons walked around freely. They were bambiraptors and at adulthood were no larger than a chicken. The bambiraptors scrambled out of the room. The microraptors just squawked.

  “Quiet!” shouted Wenda again, this time with some result. “Warden will be back in just a few minutes. He can take you out to the pens to pick one.”

  “Forgive my saying so,” said Senta, “but I was under the impression that Warden had died some years ago.”

  “Oh, I forget sometimes.” Wenda pointed toward the sofa, and Senta and her daughter sat down. “Yes, Warden died, what? About ten years ago now. But once a week, Walter… um, well, he kind of assumes the identity of Warden, I guess you could say.”

  “Must make for interesting bed-play,” said Senta.

  “I don’t sleep with Warden!” gasped Wenda. “I’m married to Walter!”

  “Of course,” said Senta, dryly. “That would be completely weird.”

  Just then a dark-haired man stepped through a doorway in the rear of the room. He was wearing a blue work shirt, dungarees, and boots.

  “Hello, Senta,” he said, smiling pleasantly.

  “Warden,” said Wenda. “Senta is interested in getting a troodon. I was just about to tell her that you had new hatchlings.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Come on out to the barn and I’ll introduce you.”

  Senta got up and took hold of his arm. Looking back over her shoulder at Wenda, she said, “Did I ever tell you that I’ve always fancied you, Warden?”

  “Um, no,” he said, leading her out the door he had come in.

  Sen looked at Wenda, now twisting her apron in her hands, shook her head and followed along. She caught up to them as they were going out the back door of the house.

  “You really fancied me?” asked Warden/Walter.

  “No, not really,” Senta replied.

  They reached a large barn, one of several that sat behind the house at varying distances. Rather than open the large barn door, Warden/Walter led them through a smaller person-sized door. Inside, along the wall, were a series of shelves containing wooden boxes filled with straw. Each of these makeshift nests contained either a pair of eggs, or the remains of two eggs. On the ground were a dozen or more six-inch tall, dull green, fuzzy chicks. They looked very birdlike except for their very lizardy tail.

  “These aren’t the same creatures that we saw out front, are they?” asked the sorceress.

  “They are the same type—troodons. When they’re born, they need to blend into the undergrowth for protection.”

  “Well, pick me out a good one,” she said.

  The man bent down and held out his hand. One of the little creatures immediately stepped into it, and he lifted it up.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I think he’s sweet,” said Sen.

  “There you go,” said her mother. “I shall take him. What does he eat?”

  “You can feed him leftovers from your meals, or he can scratch around in the garden for bugs and worms, but you have to make sure that nothing carries him off.”

  “Oh, nothing will hurt my little one,” said the sorceress. “He’s a boy then?”

  “Impossible to tell at this age,” said Warden/Walter.

  “Nonsense. Uuthanum. Oh, she’s a girl. I have just the name for her.”

  “Don’t name it Senta,” growled Sen.

  “Oh, well, what would you name it then?”

  “How about Zurfina?”

  Senta frowned, and took the little creature from Warden/Walter’s hands. “No, I don’t think so. Didn’t you have a pair of toy dinosaurs once upon a time?”

  “Yes. I’m surprised you remember. They were Pernicia and Felicity.”

  “Pernicia is obviously out. It would be like naming a child Evil or Pantagria. Children have a habit of growing into their names. Felicity it is.”

  At that moment, a tremendous roar could be heard echoing through the forest of massive pines and maples that surrounded the dinosaur ranch. Warden/Walter hurried back out the door. Senta handed the chick to her daughter and followed.

  “What is it?” she asked the man, catching up to him outside.

  “It’s old Dugan. He’s a male tyrannosaurus that roams around here. He’s not much of a threat, so I haven’t wanted to put him down. He’s old and his mate crippled him last year—broke his hip. He can’t chase down any of our iguanodons or triceratops. He lives off carrion, but he could kill a person. If he gets too close to the house or the Borrin & Tate Trading Company back that way, I’ll have no choice but to shoot him. Why don’t you ladies go inside and I’ll get the rifle.”

  “No need,” said the sorceress. “I’ll just run him off.”

  “I don’t…” he started to say, but she cut him off with an incantation.

  “Uuthanum pestor uusteros jonai.”

  Suddenly her form shifted. Her blond hair was drawn into her head as her face turned red. Her dress turned to black and changed into thick, heavy skin. She grew and grew, and grew, until she towered over the other two humans. She had become a tyrannosaurus, a big female, fifty feet from snout to the tip of her tail. The monster shifted her head to the side and looked down.

  “I’ve never been this close to one,” said Warden/Walter, in a small voice.

  The terrible mouth opened and a bizarre growl came out, sounding like an animal trying to talk human words. Then, with a shrug, the great beast stomped off into the trees.

  Sen took two steps after the retreating monster that was her mother.

  “That’s the next spell!” she called after her.

  * * * * *

  It was two days later, and Sen came back into the house from playing fetch with Spot. Bryony was singing as she set out the plates for tea.

  “Let me do that,” said the girl. “You should rest.”

  “Why?” asked Bryony, raising a brow.

  “Because you’re preggers, you silly cow.”

  “How do you know?” She ran her hand over her still flat stomach.

  “I overheard you telling Daddy.”

  “Well, I’m perfectly capable of setting the table and serving tea.”

  “You’ll need another place. My mother will be here today.”

  “What?” Bryony looked around, as if danger lurked somewhere in her dining room. “Why ever? What does she want? When did you find out? What’s going on?”

  “Um, my mother is coming to tea, to have tea, to have tea, two days ago, and I invited my mother to tea. I think that’s right.”

  “Why are you just now telling me?”

  “Because if I had told you earlier, you would have sent Kerry off somewhere, and she wants to see him.”

  “I don’t like her around him,” said Bryony. “I don’t like the way she looks at him.”

  “You needn’t worry,” said Sen. “I won’t ever let anything happen to him. In fact, I’ve already put several protective wards on him.”

  “Are you sure that’s all right? I don’t want you to accidentally turn him into a frog.”

  Sen rolled her eyes, just as there was a knock at the front door.

  “Uuthanum,” said the girl without looking, waving in the direction of the portal, wh
ich obligingly opened.

  Senta stepped inside and the door closed again of its own accord.

  “I brought a fruit salad,” said Senta, stepping into the parlor.

  “Come on back,” said Sen.

  Her mother made her way into the dining room, where she placed a large bowl in the center of the table and removed the wax paper cover.

  “See? It has apples, pears, and summer berries with a dressing that has several ingredients. I was told what they were, but I seem to have forgotten. I will eat some first, so you’ll both know that one of the ingredients is not poison.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” said Bryony, pointing to a chair.

  She continued, once her guest had sat, to arrange the table.

  “Would you mind getting Kerry?” she asked Sen.

  While the girl went to get the boy, Bryony filled the table with the rest of the meal. There were chips, sliced tomatoes, and stacks of little sandwiches.

  “I hope these are all right. They’re cheese and chutney.”

  “Is the chutney Major Frisbie’s?” asked Senta.

  “Yes it is.”

  “Well you can’t go wrong with Major Frisbie’s. He’s the only soldier worth a crap as far as I’m concerned.”

  “I don’t know that he’s really a soldier,” said Bryony. “I think they might have just made him up.”

  “They can’t lie about that,” said Senta. “His picture is right there on the jar.”

  Sen returned with the little boy, and they each took a seat on either side of the sorceress, while Bryony eventually took the seat across from her.

  “How are you, Little Baxter?” Senta asked the boy.

  “I have my own car,” he said.

  “He’s well,” said his mother. “Kieran bought him a little pedal car that looks just like a steam carriage.”

  “Wonderful. I can fix it so that you’ll never have to pedal.”

  “He likes to pedal,” said Sen.

  “Who wants to pedal? It’s tedious. You used to have a push-toy that I enchanted. Whatever happened to it?”

  “My iguanodon,” confirmed Sen. “One day while riding in the garden, I fell off, and it just kept going. I never saw it again.”

  “You should have been more careful,” her mother sniffed.

  “Kerry needs to pedal anyway,” said Sen. “It’s good exercise. It doesn’t do you any good to have a bag full of magic if you can’t climb a tree.”

  “Whose nonsensical quote is that?” demanded the sorceress.

  “Mrs. McKeeb, as interpreted by Kieran Baxter.”

  “Yes, that does sound like him.”

  “This salad looks lovely,” said Bryony, dishing it out. “Here we are, all together, enjoying a lovely meal.”

  “And so my evil plan comes to fruition,” said Senta.

  “That’s what you think,” said Sen. “Actually, it’s my evil plan that has come to fruition.”

  “What… what evil plans are you talking about?” gasped Bryony.

  Both mother and daughter Sentas turned to her and smiled the exact same smile. Bryony suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

  * * * * *

  “Why don’t you come back home,” said Senta, the next day at tea, this time in her own house.

  “Everything is good,” replied her daughter. “Why chance spoiling it?”

  “You could learn so much from me. We haven’t even begun crafting potions. You have yet to summon a quasit. You must learn how to craft glamours.”

  “I will. We see each other almost every day. I’m going to continue learning magic. I’ll learn everything that you want to teach me, but I’m going back to my own room each night in my home—with Bryony and Daddy.”

  Senta sat silently for a moment. Then she got up and walked around the table to stand next to her daughter.

  “If that’s what you want,” she said. “Now, let’s go out in the garden and see what you can turn yourself into.”

  “A tyrannosaurus?”

  The sorceress pressed her index finger into the girl’s forehead.

  “This shall determine that.”

  Chapter Twelve: The Prince Plus One

  The long line of suffragettes marched almost in step, north from Number 14, Crown Street, around St. Admeta Park, and then west on Avenue Royal to a final rally in front of Sinceree Palace. For the most part, they wore frilly white day dresses, almost all without a bustle, and each had a green and yellow sash slung from their right shoulders to their left hips imprinted with “Votes for Women.”

  King Tybalt III of Greater Brechalon and Freedonia peeked out the window from behind the curtains. His two sons were in the room behind him, Crown Prince Tybalt leaning on the empty fireplace, a glass of wine in his hand, and Prince Clitus sitting in a chair sipping from a cup of tea.

  “What do these women want?” wondered the King.

  “That would be the vote, Father,” said the Crown Prince.

  “Why can’t they understand that the vote is for families? A man votes not only for himself, but for his wife and children too.”

  “By that logic, Father,” said Tybalt, “ widows at least, should have the vote for them and their children.”

  “Here, here,” said his younger brother.

  “You think women should have the vote?” the King demanded of his eldest.

  “Why would I possibly care? It’s not like anyone votes for King. Let Parliament worry about who votes and who doesn’t. I was simply saying that your argument against women’s suffrage wasn’t logical.”

  “Well I’m all for giving women the vote,” said Clitus. “What’s more, I’m going out there and show them my support.”

  “You will not,” said the King.

  “I shall.” The Prince looked to the doorway. “Bob!”

  Bob leaned into the room. “Your Highness?”

  “See if you can get me one of those sashes.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “I forbid you to go out among those crazed females,” said the King, sternly. “You’ve only just recovered from a very foolish escapade into a burning building.”

  “That was ages ago and I’m fine. Besides, those women hardly seem like a dangerous mob. If anything, they could teach our soldiers a bit about marching in parade.”

  Bob arrived in a remarkably short time with a copy of the green and yellow sash. Prince Clitus carefully draped it over his white naval uniform.

  “I’m going out, Father, and I think you should both come with me.”

  “I’m going to take a nap,” said Prince Tybalt, setting his wineglass on the mantle and striding out.

  Clitus turned and exited the room too, marching down the long corridor to the main staircase. Bob, Stigby the police officer, and Wizard Bassington all fell into formation behind him. Skipping down the steps, he burst out the front door. Two uniformed marine guards fell in behind him. The sounds of women shouting through megaphones slowly died away as he made his way to the great gate, until it was deathly silent as he signaled for the gate to be opened. Then he stepped through.

  As he waded into the crowd of women, hands reached out to touch him on his shoulder or arm. One tousled his hair and a few became familiar enough that Stigby barked “Now, now, ladies!” The silence died away as female voices called out “The Prince is with us!” and “He’s our sash on!” and finally “We knew you were all right, Your Highness!” Clitus stepped up onto a soapbox, replacing one of the speakers, who gave over her megaphone. He brought the cone-shaped speaking device to his mouth, but before he could say a word, someone in the crowd shouted.

  “The King! The King!”

  Several women pointed. Clitus turned and looked, as did the rest of the crowd. There upon the second floor balcony, a yellow and green sash across his chest, and what his son recognized as a forced smile on his face, waving, was the king. Shouts of “The King is with us!” and “The King is a suffragist!” gradually coalesced into several choruses of God Save the King
.

  * * * * *

  “You must have been quite upset,” said Lady Esther, the following day, as they enjoyed tea in the parlor of Number 1, Avenue Dragon.

  “Why?” wondered Clitus.

  “He stole your thunder.”

  “That’s just the type of thing that my mother would do to me,” said Lady Iolana.

  “His Highness is not interested in thunder or showing off,” said Lady Terra, stepping into the room, carrying a large and obviously heavy box, which she sat on the floor in the corner. “He actually cares about issues like universal suffrage and not simply giving the appearance of caring. It’s a good thing that he’s royalty. He would make a horrible politician.”

  She sat down between Esther and Iolana on the sofa and poured herself a cup of tea, before leaning back.

  “I told you all to call me Clitus, please.”

  Iolana and Esther both nodded politely. Terra just sipped her tea.

  “What are you about today, Lady Terra?”

  “About five foot four, I should think. If I’m to call you Clitus, you should really just call me Terra then. Don’t you think?

  “Don’t be cheeky with the Prince, Zrannis,” said Iolana, sharply.

  “Khikheto, Zrant,” said Terra, nonchalantly.

  “Khikhiino khiketo,” snapped Iolana. “Tuust inghaa ghahkut!”

  “Inghaa ghett etehos zsikzsik,” hissed Terra, a look of menace in her eyes that hadn’t been there a second before.

  Iolana jumped up, stomped her foot twice, and stormed out of the room.

  “I can’t believe you would talk like that to Iolana,” said Esther. “She’s your family.”

  “She knows better than to call me Zrannis,” said Terra, suddenly back to her usual state of serenity. “Ess ta Kaetarrnaya Suusuuestho Saskhorha.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, Prince Clitus,” said Esther, standing up. “I’ll go and sssee to Iolana.”