A Plague of Wizards

by Wesley Allison

  “No, no,” replied Terra. “There was nothing inappropriate. And they’re both females, just so you know.”

  The lizzies knew as well as the humans who Lady Terra was. She had in fact, said, “Human knives make fine trade goods, Terra.” The girl’s annoyance came from the fact that the lizzie name for her was the same word they used for earthworm.

  “Ssisthusso,” she said, heading toward the door.

  “Are you sure you need nothing else, My Lady. Your brother has a credit with us.”

  “No thank you, but I’ll let him know how helpful you were.”

  She stopped just outside the door to put her thread in her pocket. Suddenly a body bumped right into her. She almost fell over, but the man who had bumped her grabbed her by the shoulders and steadied her. He was quite tall, with a dark beard. He was dressed in an old black jacket that looked like some kind of military uniform, though Terra had never seen one like it. He had a top hat with a silver pentagram pin in it.

  “You should watch where you’re going there, girl.”

  “You ran into me, sir. It is customary for a gentleman not to run into ladies on the street.”

  “Watch your mouth, girl. You don’t know who you’re talking to.”

  “I can guess,” said Terra. “You’re some kind of second rate wizard. You lot seem to be as thick as mosquitoes these days.”

  “Oh, I’m a first rate wizard. I can show you if you like. How about I send your clothes flying home without you. I’ll bet you’re almost attractive under there.”

  Before Terra could formulate a reply, someone grabbed the wizard by the shoulders and spun him around. Though she hadn’t noticed him before, once she did, she immediately knew the man. He was tall, in an expensive suit, with a square jaw and freckled face, and red hair beneath his brown bowler hat. He slapped the wizard across the face twice, once forehand and then backhand.

  “Uuthan…” the wizard started to say, but he was slapped twice more.

  Then the red-haired man grabbed him by the front of his jacket and pulled him close.

  “Listen to me, wizard. If you treat any woman in Port Dechantagne as anything less than a lady, I’ll hear of it. Then we’ll see how well you say your little magic words with no tongue.”

  Then he slapped the wizard twice more across the face and shoved him against the window of the Pfennig store, the sound as it vibrated putting one in mind of a distant church bell. The magic user looked like he was going to say something, but instead turned and hurried away.

  “Are you quite all right, Lady Terra?”

  “Yes, thank you, Mr. Baxter. You’re looking well.”

  “I’m… fully recovered.”

  “That’s good to hear. I hope this event doesn’t cause you trouble in the future.”

  “I’m not concerned with cowards, no matter how much magic they have,” he said tipping his hat and continuing down the street in the opposite direction than the other man had taken.

  * * * * *

  “It was all quite exciting,” said Terra that evening at dinner, though she didn’t really sound very excited.

  “Mr. Baxter is a fine man,” said Augie, watching Kayden slice the saurolophus roast. “At one time I thought that perhaps we might have set him up with Auntie Iolanthe.”

  “Don’t be foolish,” said his aunt, from the other end of the table. “I’ve been married twice and lost both husbands. Anyone can lose one, and even two can be forgiven in some circumstances, but if I lost a third, people would count me as careless.”

  Governor Iolanthe Staff was still very attractive, though two years older than Terra’s mother. She was one of those people who commanded all the attention in the room and her aquamarine eyes could be mesmerizing to men and women alike.

  Though the family often entertained, tonight there were only the four family members currently living in the house—Augie, Terra, their mother, and their aunt.

  “I’m certainly glad that Mr. Baxter was there to help you,” said Yuah. “These wizards are a pestilence. Something has to be done.”

  “I’m seeing to it,” said Augie.

  “It wouldn’t be a question if your sorceress was where she was supposed to be,” said Iolanthe.

  “Did I not just say that I’m seeing to it?” replied her nephew.

  The governor made a hand washing gesture and returned her attention to her plate.

  “That reminds me,” he said, turning to his sister.

  “Oh yes. You said you wanted to tell me something.”

  “Well, it’s more like ask something of you, Sister Dear. I’m sending you to Yessonarah.”

  “What for?”

  “They are an important trading partner, as well as the key to the rest of the lizzie city-states, and I want to know what’s going on there with that crazy lizzie king and that Kafira-damned dragon. You’re going to be my eyes and ears.”

  “You can’t send your sister there!” cried his mother. “She’ll have to cross hundreds of miles of forest full of man-eating monsters and then God only knows what could happen to her among those savages. She’s just a girl, Augie!”

  “Mother, we have traders going to and from Yessonarah all the time. I will make sure that she’s taken good care of. Besides, she’s not a girl. She’s a Dechantagne.”

  “Well said,” said Auntie Iolanthe, without looking up.

  “Whatever you say, Augie,” said Terra. “You know best.”

  * * * * *

  Ten days later, Terra climbed up into a howdah on the back of fully-grown iguanodon. A young man called Nichol Borrin, part of the trading group that she was tagging along with, sat just in front of her. Terra was dressed in khaki blouse and skirt along with a pith helmet and knee-high boots. Strapped around her waist was a belt with a holstered .45 caliber revolver, a gift from Auntie Iolanthe.

  “I expect I’ll shoot myself if I try to use it.”

  “Just point it in the direction of whoever or whatever bothers you,” said Augie from the ground. “Now, the trip there is going to take about two weeks. Once you’ve reached Yessonarah, just follow the directions I’ve given you. Stay until you’ve completed your tasks. Then come on home.”

  “I only wish mother could have come to see me off. I expect I’ll die before we meet again.”

  “Don’t be foolish, Little Worm. I’ve not given you permission to die.” He gave the iguanodon a friendly slap on the haunch and turned toward his waiting steam carriage. “Remember,” he called, as he climbed behind the steering wheel. “Come back with your shield.”

  “Or on it,” she completed.

  Chapter Three: Allium

  Governor Iolanthe Staff slid out from under the body of her lover. Collapsing against the cool surface of her pillow, she ran a hand over her body, slick with perspiration. After several deep breaths, she rolled off the mattress and stepped to the washstand, where she poured the full pitcher of water into the basin. Setting the pitcher aside, she cupped both hands in the cool water and brought them up to splash it over her face. She didn’t bother to dry herself.

  Gazing at the man on the bed, she took careful note of his muscular back and buttocks, before moving back and crawling cat-like to him. She draped herself over him and kissed the nape of his neck.

  “This was very nice,” she said.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, drowsily. “I wasn’t sure I was welcome at first.”

  “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

  “No, I have to get up.”

  She rolled off of him, sitting up, and fluffing the pillow behind her.

  “I thought as much.” Her voice turned from sultry to crisp and commanding. “You should be on your way. It’s almost tea.”

  “Yes.”

  He got up and walked around the bed to the washstand. There, he took the hand towel, and dipping it in the basin, used it to wash his body. He quickly dressed and used her brush to put his sandy blond hair back into its usual neat precision.


  “Will you be by tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know. I have a great deal to do.”

  “I’m surprised you have any time for me at all.”

  “I have a weakness for powerful women,” he said. “It must be down to how I was raised.”

  “Perhaps I’ve grown too old and ugly for you.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” He glanced over her naked body, nodding in appreciation. “I said I have a great deal to do. I have to take care of this wizard problem.”

  “My nephew is dealing with it,” said Iolanthe.

  “It’s a police matter,” he said, slipping into his suit jacket, “and I am the Chief of Police.”

  “So you are.”

  He stepped to the door and started to turn the knob.

  “Saba?” she called.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder.

  * * * * *

  Police Chief Saba Colbshallow opened the front door of his home and stepped inside. He was immediately almost knocked over by an eighty-two pound projectile hitting him right in his center mass. Grasping it below the shoulders, he hefted it up to find that, as he suspected, it was his daughter DeeDee. It was already apparent, despite the gangliness of eleven-year-olds, that she would grow up to be a beautiful woman. She had inherited the heterochromia of both eyes and hair from her mother, as well as her flawless skin and near perfect facial features. Saba looked into her eyes, one deep brown and the other hazel.

  “Hello, My Dearest. How are you today?”

  “Fine, Daddy.”

  “Where is your sister?”

  “She’s in her room.”

  “Playing?”

  “I don’t think so. I think she misses her home.”

  “This is her home now,” he said. “Where’s Mummy?”

  “She’s in her room. She’s dicky.”

  “How about Nan?”

  “In the garden. I was just going out to join her.”

  “Go upstairs and check on your sister. Bring her out in the garden, if she’s able.” He ran his hand through her hair, each strand seemingly a different shade from very light blond to coppery red, and then pushed her gently towards the staircase.

  Saba made his way through the parlor, the dining room, and the kitchen, finally stepping out onto the back porch and then out to the garden. Here he found his mother, on her knees, planting flower bulbs around the base of the tree.

  “You’re about nine months too late to plant those, Mother. It should have been done back in Novuary. Either that, or you’re four months too early for next year.”

  “I’m sure they’ll grow and be quite lovely.”

  “Oh, they’ll grow, but they won’t blossom. I was expecting tea.”

  “I’m too old to fuss with such things.”

  “But not too old to crawl around in the dirt,” he said. “I would think that the lady of the house would see to tea.”

  “She’s not feeling well.”

  “She never feels well.”

  “Well, what do you expect, with the way you treat her?”

  He pulled a wrought-iron chair away from the outdoor table and sat down, crossing his legs. “What do you mean, Mother?”

  “You know what I mean. It’s bad enough that you’re wandering the town like an alley cat, without you bringing her the results of your imprudence.”

  “That was one time, and it was a long time ago.”

  “So, you don’t think there will be any more little bastards showing up on her doorstep?”

  “I can guarantee it. And that little bastard is your grandchild.” He turned to the back door to see DeeDee standing with her arm around a smaller girl. The younger girl’s thin blond hair partially covered her face, which appeared puffy. “Come here, Sen.”

  She shuffled across the cobblestone to stop in front of him. He brushed the hair back from her face. She had been crying.

  “What’s the matter, Sweetie?”

  “I miss my Daddy.”

  “I’m your Daddy… but I know you miss Mr. Baxter.” He lifted the girl up and placed her on his knee. “You remember why you came here?”

  “Uh-huh. My other Daddy was sick.”

  “That’s right. He couldn’t take care of you because he was so sick. Now you live with us and we love you very, very much. You like it here, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. DeeDee is nice to me.”

  “Everyone is nice to you, aren’t they?” he asked, glaring at his mother.

  “Uh-huh, but I miss my Dad… my other Daddy, and he’s better now.”

  “Yes, he is. I’ve asked… your other Daddy… over for dinner next week, so that you could visit with him. How does that sound?”

  “Could I go home with him?”

  “No, Dear. You live here now, with us. I love you too much to let you go, and so does DeeDee.” He gave her a hug, and waved for DeeDee to come to him. “Would you two like some salt water taffy when I come home this evening?”

  The two girls nodded.

  “All right. Now go play.”

  The two started toward the back door, but Sen stopped and turned back around.

  “Allium is sad because she doesn’t have anyplace to sleep.”

  “DeeDee, would you help your sister make a bed of blankets in the corner of her room for Allium?”

  DeeDee rolled her eyes, but said, “Yes, Daddy.”

  “You shouldn’t encourage that,” said his mother when the girls were gone.

  “Once she feels better about her new living conditions, it will all go away. Until then, an imaginary friend will do no harm.”

  * * * * *

  The police station was a large square five-story building of red brick in the heart of the government district of Port Dechantagne. The corners of the structure were finished with white stonework, which also decorated the tops of the windows and doors. On the arch above the door was carved in large letters POLICE and just below it, the police motto—Punishment follows swift on guilt.

  Stopping at the front desk, he nodded to Police Sergeant Art Partridge.

  “Any trouble?”

  “Maybe,” said Partridge. “We’ve had a group of hedge wizards over near the church we’ve been keeping an eye on.”

  “Bloody hell. Do we have any idea how many of those bastards are in the city?”

  “We’ve got papers for forty-eight registered wizards, including ours, but one can only guess about these hedgies.” He stopped as the message ticker behind him began clicking. Stepping over, he picked up the paper tape rapidly being fed out of the device. “It’s trouble. Just what I was talking about.”

  “Just like we planned then,” said Saba, stepping behind the counter and following Partridge to the weapons locker.

  The sergeant handed him a .45 revolver and then took a sniper rifle with a scope for himself. Then the two of them hurried out the front door. Just outside, they intercepted PC Brimley and PC Gubler, both of whom had been on their way in.

  “Dominot is on duty,” said Partridge. “Do you want me to call him?”

  “No. No wizards.”

  “It’s times like this I wish we still had Sgt. Shrubb.”

  “Well, we don’t.”

  Ten minutes later, Saba, by himself, strode quickly across the lawn of Victory Park, the centerpiece of which, the Victory Obelisk, was the target of some magical missiles being hurled by a group of six hedge wizards. They were pretty typical of their lot—dressed in hodgepodge mixtures of military, explorer, and formal wear. They stopped their laughter and their magic when he approached. It was only then that he realized one of them was a woman. She was wearing riding pants and high boots. A black leather corset covered a thin silk blouse. She had a high leather collar strapped around her neck, and some clockwork device attached to her wrist.

  “You are in violation of the city ordinance against dangerous magic in a public place,” announced Saba.

  “Now, now, Constable. We’re doing no harm,” said the closest wizard
, a bearded fellow in a rifle-frock coat and a top hat.

  “It’s Police Chief Colbshallow, and if there is any harm to that memorial,” he pointed at the 203-foot tall obelisk, “you’ll spend the next ten years at hard labor.”

  “There’s been no damage to your giant todger, luv,” said the woman, moving to stand close to Saba.

  “A witch?”

  “Enchantress,” she said with a seductive smile. The smile wasn’t returned.

  “You will leave this park, stopping by as you do so, to give PC Brimley your names.” He pointed to the side of the street where the constable waited, pencil and notebook in hand. “Any more public disturbances will be dealt with.”

  One of the men stepped toward Saba. He wore a shite shirt with a brown leather waistcoat and dungarees. He was hatless, but had a pair of goggles perched atop his head.

  “You clearly don’t know who you’re talking to, copper. My name’s Finn—Finn the Magnificent. I’m quite well known. You don’t want to make an enemy of me.”

  “Why not?” asked Saba, raising his eyebrows.

  “Huh? Well, I’m… um, pretty powerful.”

  “I knew someone magnificent once. Her name was Zurfina. I knew her quite well, you see. We arrived in Birmisia together, so I know what magnificent is, and you don’t seem that magnificent.” He looked at the woman. “What’s your name?”

  “Tendra.”

  “Are you magnificent?”

  “I wouldn’t claim to be in the same class as Zurfina…”

  He turned to the wizard with the beard and top hat. “What about you? Are you magnificent, Mr?”

  “Ventin. Just Ventin.”

  “You see, here in Birmisia, you have to be really something to be magnificent. Why here, even a plain fellow like me can do magic. Do you want to see?” He pointed at Ventin and said with a flourish, “Uuthanum!”

  The wizard’s hat flew off his head. All six magic users started. Then a second later a rifle report barked from some distance away. This caused an even greater reaction among them. Ventin picked up his top hat to find a clean round hole in either side.