The Sorceress and her Lovers

by Wesley Allison

  When dinnertime came and she wasn’t called down to the meal, Iolana suspected that her father had decided to leave off “seeing to her” until the morrow. That was proven to be the case when Esther arrived with a dinner tray and placed it on her game table. Her parents had evidently decided that she was unfit company.

  “I probably am,” she said to herself.

  “Sss?” hissed Esther.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  She picked over her food for a moment, but wasn’t hungry, despite having actually eaten almost nothing that day.

  “Get my robe and towels and meet me in my bathroom.”

  Exiting her bedroom, Iolana walked to the large bathroom, that while not technically hers, was on the opposite end of the house from the one that both her mother and Auntie Yuah used. It was a large well-appointed room that featured a large brass tub in the center. As soon as Esther arrived, she had the lizzie help her undress while the tub was filled with hot, scented water from the magically enhanced cistern. While she soaked, she had Esther turn down the lamp flame to the lowest level possible. And when she was done, the lizzie helped her dry off and don her fluffy robe. Then she sent her back for her slippers.

  While she waited, Iolana looked out the window into the garden. The sun was gone, but there was still light in the western sky. Just beyond the gate, she saw a strange looking man in an overcoat and a bowler hat. Barefoot, she ran out of the bathroom, down the hall, and out the door to the outside back stairs. A minute later, she was at the fence, her wet hair giving her a chill in the evening air.

  “Iolana Staff, look at you running around almost naked.”

  “I just saw you,” said the girl in a breathless voice. “I would have been ever so upset if I had missed you. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to check on business. To see a few people.”

  Esther was suddenly beside her, bending down to slip her shoes on her feet.

  “I guess you visited the McCoorts?” she asked.

  “Well I have to, don’t I? They’re family, after all.”

  The lizzie stood back up and edged protectively in front of the girl.

  “I’m glad you came to see me.”

  “I won’t lie. I was really just looking around the neighborhood. Not that seeing you isn’t a pleasure.”

  “Can I see you?” she asked.

  “Can’t you now?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  The form of the man suddenly shifted and grew, and seconds later, where he had stood was the massive form of Bessemer the steel dragon. Esther dropped to the ground on her face, arms stretched out toward him. Iolana reached up and the dragon obliged by lowering his head to her hands. She kissed his scaly face, noticing how hot the shining armor was.

  “How long are you here for?” she asked.

  “I’m leaving right now. I have to get back. You should go inside before you catch cold or I eat you.” A forked tongue, as long as the girl was tall, shot out and then back into the dragon’s mouth.

  “Maybe you should,” she said. “I don’t suppose anyone would miss me.”

  “I don’t think that’s true, though I’ve been told that eleven-year-old girls frequently believe it is. But, if you’re sure…” The dragon looked from the girl to the prostrate lizzie. “I expected her to jump to your rescue.”

  “Against a god?” said Iolana. “I hardly think so.”

  Bessemer tilted his head in an imitation of a shrug. “Well, good-bye Iolana. I’ll see you again on your birthday.”

  “That’s a long time. I won’t see you before then?”

  “You never know.”

  “No,” she smiled. “You never know.”

  “Goodbye,” he said, and then suddenly he was gone, shooting into the sky almost too quickly for the eye to see.

  Iolana sighed and started back toward the house. She stopped and looked back at Esther. “Get up. Come and brush my hair.”

  Chapter Eight: An Adventure

  Iolana opened her eyes to see another pair of eyes, these deep brown, staring back at her from a distance of six inches. She blinked twice and then leaned her head back far enough that her seven-year-old cousin’s face could come into focus.

  “What are you doing in my room?”

  “I want you to play with me.”

  “I can’t play with you. I’m not allowed to interact with you until 11:00.”

  Iolana had been placed on restriction. She wasn’t allowed to leave the house without permission. She wasn’t allowed to see any of her friends. The only time she could interact with Augie and Terra was during their tutoring sessions. And she had not been allowed to take meals with the family. She had endured this punishment for nine days, spending her time writing long letters to Dovie and Willa and reading everything she could on the early days of the colony in preparation for her book. She had even written to Sherree Glieberman, though that had only been to politely decline an invitation to a slumber party. She wouldn’t have been allowed that, even had she wanted to go.

  “I don’t want to wait and I don’t want to do my times tables,” said Terra’s scratchy little voice. “I want to play Argrathian checkers.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not allowed.”

  “Yes you are.”

  “What?”

  “You’re not on restriction anymore.”

  Iolana sat up and looked toward her desk.

  “I gave your mother the letter,” said Terra.

  “You what?”

  Iolana’s father had made it very clear. She wouldn’t be allowed back to resume her life until she had apologized to her mother. Two days earlier, in a week moment, she had composed the required document.

  Mother,

  I regret my actions of last week.

  Sincerely,

  I. Staff

  Mr. Staff would have never accepted such a letter, but Iolana knew that her mother would find it adequate. She had decided though not to send it. She would endure her punishment until her father broke down and gave in. Iolana expected him to crack any day now. She was surprised he had lasted this long.

  “You little bint! I’m going to fix you.”

  Terra squeaked, jumped from the bed, and ran from the room. Iolana climbed out of bed and stomped around in a circle for a minute, not remembering that she could have chased after the girl if she wanted. Then she stopped and placed her hands on her hips. Well, what was done, was done. No sense moping about it.

  “Esther!”

  The young lizzie entered through the still open door.

  “Help me get dressed.”

  The clothing that young girls wore in traditional Brech society was almost as heavily layered and almost as complicated as that worn by grown women. Though she was able to eschew the double layer of brassieres, a bustle, and a corset, most of Iolana’s dresses required at least four petticoats and more usually six. She also wore a shift and a double set of bloomers. Once all the underwear was on, it was time to step into the dress. Her charcoal day dress, like almost all of her dresses, fastened up the back with dozens of small buttons. She could almost reach them all using the fermeture, a magical button fastener, but let Esther use it on her. It was simply a matter of running the device up the row of buttons, which magically jumped into their hooks. Running it downward likewise unfastened them.

  “Have they served breakfast yet?”

  “In ten,” replied the lizzie.

  “Good. Let’s go down.”

  The only diners in the Dechantagne Staff home that morning proved to be the three children of the house. Each took their traditional spots, widely spaced around the table, despite the many other empty places.

  “Where is everyone?” Iolana wondered.

  “Your parents are both working,” said Augie. “Mother is doing some charity work this morning with her friends from shrine.”

  “Honor McCoort, do you mean? She doesn’t have any other friends. None of us really have many friends.”

  “I do
,” said the eight-year-old boy. “I’m quite well thought of.”

  As one of the lizzies set down a plate with eggs, sausages, and beans in front of her, Iolana looked carefully at her cousin. He seemed to have grown just since she had seen him three days before. Of course it might have been the khaki gear he was wearing.

  “What have you been up to then?”

  “I just went for a walk in the woods across the road.”

  “You’ll get yourself eaten. There are velociraptors and who-knows-what in those woods.”

  “I need some soldiers here,” Augie ordered the servant, and then looked back at Iolana. “Not to worry. I took two of the lizzies with me, and I took my rifle.”

  “Your mother will have a fit if she finds out you were using a weapon without father there.”

  “Then don’t tell her,” he replied calmly, before stabbing a sausage.

  “I won’t.”

  “I’ll tell her,” said Terra, her little voice almost shouting.

  “Don’t,” said Iolana. “It will only upset her for nothing. Besides the three of us should stick together. We’re the three heirs—like my mother, and your father, and Uncle Augie.”

  “Then you have to play with me,” said Terra.

  “I will, but after lessons.”

  “And I don’t want eggs. I want porridge.”

  “Get my sister some porridge,” Augie ordered another servant.

  Iolana looked at him only to see him staring at her as if she was some kind of strange creature that he had only just now discovered.

  “We’re going to Grandpa’s house after lessons,” he said. “Would you like to come with us? You know he said you were always welcome.”

  “I think I will, thank you.”

  A lizzie stepped up behind Augie’s right shoulder and bent over to hiss quietly in his ear. “No ssssereal.”

  “Kafira damn it!” he shouted. “What kind of kitchen are you running in there? Hiss Terra tonahass ack ssssereal, ssiss oooastu zat tassta. Bring her one of those sticky buns you have in the pantry for today’s tea. In fact bring us all one.”

  Iolana raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, aren’t I the man of the house right now?”

  “Indeed,” she said.

  Lessons that day went better than Iolana had ever experienced. Augie read the passage from his primer and wrote his essay without voicing the least objection. This gave her a chance to spend time with Terra and the multiplication table, which should have been memorized by now. At 12:05, Egeria Korlann, the wife of Augie’s and Terra’s grandfather arrived in her steam carriage. Her only reaction to seeing three youths approaching the car rather than two was a radiant smile.

  The Korlann residence was not far from the Dechantagne’s, easily within walking distance, but Mrs. Korlann had only recently purchased her steam carriage from Sawyer and Sons, and had apparently decided walking was no longer called for. The white columned, two-story structure looked far more deserving of the title mansion than Iolana’s home, despite its smaller size. And it was filled with ornate furniture and antique artworks the likes of which could seldom be found outside of a royal palace or a museum. The front door opened into a foyer, with a large arched walkway into the parlor. Hand-carved wooden moldings trimmed the walls. Golden drapes decorated the large windows. Beaded chandeliers looked down over each room. Birch and cherry wood chairs and marble-topped accent tables were spaced around the parlor, which was dominated by a beautiful grand piano, the open lid of which was graced with a painting of angels in the clouds. On the wall above the piano was an eight-foot-tall painting of the same angels in different poses. Everywhere were vases filled with cut flowers.

  “Come and sit down with me in the parlor, children,” said Mrs. Korlann, untying the bow beneath her chin and taking off her hat, which she handed to the waiting lizzie servant. “Would you like some biscuits and milk?”

  “No thank you,” said Augie, hopping into a cushioned but firm armchair. “I’m still full from breakfast.”

  “I had sticky buns, ‘cause there wasn’t any porridge,” explained Terra.

  “How wonderful,” said Mrs. Korlann, sitting down on the sofa and pulling Terra into her lap. “What else?”

  “Not much else,” said Augie. “Mother is busy and Uncle Radley has been working.”

  “And I didn’t get to play very much because Iolana has been on restriction,” said Terra.

  Iolana felt her cheeks turn warm as Mrs. Korlann gave her a raised eyebrow.

  “There’s my lovely grandchildren,” said Mr. Korlann stepping into the room from the back hallway.

  Zeah Korlann was a tall, stately gentleman, whose hair had recently gone completely grey around his ears and noticeably thin on top of his head. He stood as straight as a flagpole in his dark grey suit with a forest green waistcoat, but held both arms out in an invitation. Both Terra and Augie jumped up and rushed to him, almost knocking him over.

  “This is the way a man should be greeted,” he said, bending at the waist to plant a kiss on the top of each brown-haired head. “Hello Iolana. I’m so happy you could join us.”

  “Thank you Mr. Korlann.”

  “No, no. What did I say?”

  “Um… Grandpa.”

  “Come over here and get your kiss.”

  Iolana felt pulled to the older gentleman like iron filings to a magnate, but she managed to look as though she was unenthused. She held out her hand to be shaken, but was pulled into a kiss on her blond hair, which made her blush for the second time in a scant few minutes.

  “Children, Grandpa has just finished setting up the croquet hoops. Are you ready to try and beat me?”

  “We always beat you,” said Augie, grinning.

  “Brave words, Master Augustus Marek Virgil Dechantagne,” said Mr. Korlann. “Let’s see if you can live up to them, or that name.”

  Augie laughed and sprinted out of the room. Mr. Korlann bent down, picked up Terra and followed.

  “I get to be green!” the little girl shouted.

  “Are you coming, Iolana?”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Iolana, “but I think I shall stay and talk to Mrs. Korlann a bit.”

  “Join us when you’re ready.”

  Turning, Iolana stepped back and sat down in the armchair that Augie had vacated.

  “What did you want to talk about?” asked Mrs. Korlann. “Does it have anything to do with why you were on restriction?”

  “No. Well.” Iolana looked up at the white, hand-painted fluffy clouds on the sky blue ceiling. “Only very indirectly.”

  “Do you mind if I play the piano while we talk,” asked Mrs. Korlann, getting up. “I find that it relaxes me.”

  “No.”

  The woman took her place behind the keyboard, carefully fluffing out her dress behind the piano bench. “Any requests?”

  “Lately I’ve been enjoying Bankett’s Sixth Symphony.”

  “It’s not the same without a male choir, but I’ll do my best.”

  The woman’s hands moved deftly across the keyboard in as close of an imitation of Iolana’s Royal Philharmonic’s recording as could be achieved on a single instrument.

  “So what did you want to talk about?”

  “You knew Professor Calliere very well, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. We worked together for years.”

  “Did you know he wasn’t my father?”

  Mrs. Korlann’s fingers stopped in midair and it seemed as though she was finished, but then she started playing right where she had left off.

  “Yes, I knew that.”

  “So you know that my mother wasn’t a virgin on her wedding day?” Iolana frowned and crossed her arms.

  Egeria’s laugh seemed timed to the music.

  “What?”

  “And she held her hand up and said to them ‘Let him who is without sin in this world cast the first stone.’ Zaeri 8:7.”

  “Figures you would know that one,” said Iolana. “How about this:
‘Let your marriage be held in all honor, and let the marriage bed be undefiled, for God will judge the adulterous.’ Egeria’s Epistle to the Pavir, book 13, verse 4.”

  The redhead stopped playing and turned around on her seat to face the girl.

  “You have a lot of questions, clearly, and you live in a house of secrets. So, go ahead and ask them. I’ll answer all that I want to, but you need to do it quickly.”

  “What was Professor Calliere like?”

  “A brilliant mind—somewhat cavalier. He loved research and learning simply for knowledge’s own sake. A few of his inventions will continue to change the world for decades. He was a pleasant enough man, much more so before we came here to Birmisia. He was clearly infatuated with your mother, as many men were, and are.”

  “But he sold magic to the Freedonians.”

  “Yes. I never did really understand that. He didn’t need money. I don’t think he favored them politically. He was never much of a political animal. He might have been trying to impress Iolanthe… or to get back at her.”

  “Why would he want to… oh. Because of me, you mean.”

  “Maybe,” said Mrs. Korlann. “It’s just a hypothesis.”

  “You worked with Professor Calliere on the Result Mechanism?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you still work on it?”

  “No. You’re mother has had it locked up. I don’t know if she has anyone working with it, but I certainly haven’t been invited to do so. That’s fine with me. I have my own projects now. Coming to Birmisia has been wonderful for me. Here I’m able to work without being overshadowed by others simply because of my sex.”

  “How can you make a machine do magic, do you suppose?”

  “It’s not really my field of expertise.”

  “Well I’ve been reading up on it,” said Iolana. “Sorcerers have an innate magic ability they say. You either have it or you don’t. But wizards use mathematics to harness the same magical energy. They say anyone can learn to be a wizard if you are good at mathematics.”

  “What exactly is your question?”

  “Can you do magic? Do you think I could?”

  “I couldn’t say. I could only say that I never have, and I don’t really want to.”