Halfway to the clouds, she looked back to see him following. When her wingtips were just touching the fluffy white masses, she circled and waited for him.
“Are you coming, little one?”
“I’m here.”
“Where are these fruits?”
“Follow me!”
He dove halfway down to the earth and then with a single flap shot across the landscape. He could certainly fly. She followed, higher, as he led her across the scrublands, over a range of low hills, to a broad savannah, nearly fifty miles from their starting point. The land here was full of iguanodons and triceratops, telmatosaurus and ankylosaurs. And there were predators—gorgosaurs, the smaller cousins of the tyrannosaurus. In the center of this great plain was a small copse of trees filled with fruit—something like crabapples. Urie circled, waiting for Zoantheria. She landed with a whomp and he settled gently to the ground with no more disturbance than a butterfly landing.
“So this is what you like, eh?”
The barbed tip of her tail knocked a single fruit from its branch. She caught it in her hand and then tossed it into her mouth. It was sour, but not altogether unpleasant. The emerald dragon climbed up a trunk and began eating fruits as fast as he could pick them.
“I would imagine you have to eat many of these before you feel full.”
Urie grunted in agreement and continued to eat.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a nice dinosaur to go with it?”
He stopped eating.
“I’ve eaten one before. It was awful. I just can’t stand the smell of blood.”
“Maybe you just got a bad one.”
“I don’t think so. When I eat this,” he said, holding up a fruit, “it feels like life. Eating meat reminds me too much of death.”
“The humans cook their meat. You almost can’t tell it was ever alive.”
“Strange.” He went back to gathering and eating fruit. He completely denuded one tree and moved on to a second. “You like them?”
“The humans? Not to eat.”
“But you like living among them?”
“It’s all I’ve ever known,” said Zoey. “Senta, my guardian… she’s almost like my mother. And I have… other friends, who are human.”
“That sounds nice. The only guardian I’ve had is Lord Voindrazius, and he’s been asleep most of my life.”
“You hatched in Xiatooq?”
“Yes. Lord Voindrazius said the lizzies of Xiatooq got my egg in trade with a far away people.”
“Come here, Urie.”
The small dragon clambered down the tree and hurried to her side. His movements were graceful even by the standards of dragons, but he came to an abrupt stop when he saw what was approaching. Three gorgosaurs, their olive skin partially obscured by their seasonal black feathers, approached in a staggered formation. The closest stopped, and roared.
“They’ll charge in a moment,” said Zoantheria. “Take a deep breath.”
She could hear the emerald dragon fill its lungs.
“Now burn them.”
The little dragon breathed, but no flame came forth. Instead, there was a kind of haze that issued from his mouth. It surrounded the three gorgosaurs and from the earth sprang forth grasses, shrubs, and trees that grew and grew and within an instant were massive giants reaching for the sky, covered with vines and mosses and mushrooms. The gorgosaurs were lost to view, but could be heard fleeing in fright.
“Interesting.”
“I guess I can’t make fire,” said Urie.
“You can make fire, or you will when you are older,” she said. “All dragons make fire, but all dragons have something else too. This is your something else.”
“Do you have a something else?”
“Of course.”
“What is it?”
She cast him a sideways glance.
“A lady must have her secrets.”
“What’s a lady?”
“Eat your fruit,” she said.
* * * * *
“I don’t care about magic,” whined the sapphire dragon. “What good are magical words when we have claws, tail, and fire?”
“I will have you fly to the plane just outside of the city,” said Voindrazius. “There, you will engage Zoantheria in combat. You may use tail, claw, fang, and fire. She will use only magic. Are you ready?”
“I will be ready and waiting!” shouted Xenarra with glee, taking to the air.
“Are you ready, Zoantheria?”
“Yes,” replied the coral dragon, grimly.
She shot up into the sky and swept over the city. She could easily see the shining blue form awaiting her. Swooping down toward it, she cast her first spell.
“Ariana uuthanum sembor.”
Immediately Xenarra was mired in a mass of sticky strands, as though some giant godlike spider had cast its web over her. She struggled, managing to free an arm and her tail before finally resorting to dragon fire to completely free herself. She looked up just in time to see Zoey buzzing her head, mouth open. But she didn’t breathe fire, only roared.
Leaping into the air, Xenarra chased after the coral dragon. Faster and faster she came, until she was almost close enough to bite off her tail.
“Uuthanum uusteros vadia,” said Zoey, vanishing into thin air.
Xenarra snapped at the place she had been, and then whipped around when she failed to bite down on anything but air. She struggled to find any indication of where the coral dragon might have gone. Then she heard quiet words.
“Erros uuthanum tijiia.”
A huge spectral hand appeared above Xenarra in the air. It seemed to be formed of the very fabric of the air itself. Suddenly it was pushing down. The sapphire dragon fell, pressed down with it. All the way down. Slammed into the caked, dry earth below.
In frustration and fury she shot another gout of flame into the sky. There was nothing there for it to hit. But from high in the sky came a ball of fire shooting back. It engulfed her, but it didn’t burn like dragon fire. It was a fireball made of ordinary flame. It would have burnt a human being or any other mortal creature to death, but was only slightly painful to a dragon.
Then she saw her—high up, between the clouds. With a snarl, she shot into the air after her. The coral dragon seemed to grow larger and larger as Xenarra grew closer. She aimed for the neck and opened her mouth ready to plant her fangs into Zoantheria’s throat.
“Rezesic idium uuthanum torestos paj.”
The coral dragon disappeared again. This time Xenarra tried circling in an ever-larger spiral. She found nothing but warm, moisture-laden air. With another growl, she circled again, shooting flame downward and then up into the clouds. She flew for half an hour, exhausting herself. At last she glanced back to the city and saw, high up near the edge of the volcano’s caldera, next to Lord Voindrazius, the ugly bitch dragon. With a scream of anger, she shot back toward their starting point. She flew faster than she ever had before, preparing to hit her enemy with the greatest force she had ever applied to anything.
She could see Zoantheria mouthing words that she couldn’t hear until just before the impact, she heard the last word, “sieor.” The coral dragon disappeared again. This time Lord Voindrazius disappeared too, and Urie, and the mountain, and the city. The sapphire dragon growled again in anger. Nothing had happened to the others. She had been transported. Below her was the ocean. As far as she could see in any direction was the endless expanse of water.
“She’s going to be really angry when she gets back,” said the emerald dragon.
“Tired too,” said Zoey, mirthfully. “She’s a thousand miles from land.”
“When she returns,” said Voindrazius, “you will teach magic to both these young ones.”
“I will begin their training,” she said, “but I will be leaving in two weeks. I have a home to return to.”
Voindrazius rumbled deep in his throat.
“Soon, Zoantheria, you will have to choose.”
; “Yes,” thought Zoey, “and you may not like my choice.”
Chapter Six: Yuah’s Suitors
“So, how was it?” asked Honor McCoort, leaning over the table.
Yuah Dechantagne shrugged.
The two of them sat at one of the tables in the outdoor portion of Finkler’s Bakery, Port Dechantagne’s first eating establishment. The outside portion had recently been expanded to twelve tables, but the inside remained small, accommodating only three. Summer squash soup and cress sandwiches on herb bread were the order of the day.
“The play was very nice,” said Yuah. “I thought the young lady in the lead was smashing.”
“How about dinner?”
“Oh, Café Ada is always lovely. They had wiener schnitzel in honor of Oddyndessen.”
“And Mr. Wissinger?” asked Honor, leaning forward once again.
“He is a brilliant man—a pleasure to talk to.”
“That sounds like faint praise indeed.”
“I can’t help it,” said Yuah. “He just seems so old to me. He’s my father’s friend.”
“Yuah, he’s not that much older than you. You’re forty-seven. That’s no longer middle-aged.”
“My body may be forty-seven, but my brain still thinks I’m thirty. I still expect some handsome young cavalry officer to sweep me off my feet.”
“I can understand that,” said Honor. “Maybe it isn’t realistic though.”
“Says the young woman married to a still younger man,” responded Yuah. “Don’t presume to understand me until you’ve spent a day in my corset.”
“I’m not that young,” said Honor, absentmindedly running her fingertip down the length of the scar that ran from her cheek to her chin. “It’s not my fault that Geert is younger. Who else would have a one-legged woman with a scar face?”
“You’re face is beautiful,” said Yuah, her eyes starting to fill with tears.
“Now, don’t start that.”
“I can’t help it,” said Yuah, as the tears spilled over. “It’s all my fault. You were almost killed and it’s all my fault!”
Honor got up and stepped around the table, and hugged her friend from behind.
“It was an accident.”
“I forgot to set the relief cock! It was my fault!”
Honor stepped to the side of the chair and Yuah hugged her, pressed her face into the younger woman’s bosom, and wept.
“It was a long time ago, and it was an accident,” said Honor, running her hands over Yuah’s hair. “I don’t blame you, and if I did, I would have forgiven you by now anyway.”
After about three minutes, Yuah gained control of herself and Honor returned to her side of the table.
“Now, do you feel better?”
“No. I feel horrible.”
“Well, show me that stiff Brech upper lip. You’re only allowed a twice-annual cry about my accident. Now people are looking at you.”
“I don’t care if people look at me,” said Yuah, not bothering to check. “They look at me all the time anyway. I might as well be doing something worth watching. Oh, no.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve gotten snot all over your dress.”
“So you have,” said Honor looking at her simple but nice brown dress. She picked up her napkin and wiped it. “Well, it will all come out in the wash.”
“Why are you never upset about anything?”
“That way you can be upset about everything,” explained Honor, “and we even out.”
The two women stopped speaking as a tall man in a black suit with a green waistcoat stopped beside their table. He appeared to be in his late forties, with a touch of grey in his dark brown hair. There was no grey in his handlebar mustache.
“Mrs. Dechantagne? Pardon my intrusion.”
“Do I know you, Mr…?”
“Galbright. We met at your sister’s office a week ago.”
“Oh, yes. My sister-in-law’s office.”
“Yes, of course. When we were introduced, I did not realize that you were entertaining suitors, or I would have given you my card.”
He stuck out his hand containing a social card. Yuah looked at it like it was a poisonous snake.
“Pardon Mrs. Dechantagne, Mr. Galbright,” said Honor, reaching out and retrieving the card. “She’s out of sorts this morning.”
“I quite understand. I caught you both unawares. Please pardon me. I look forward to seeing you again, Mrs. Dechantagne.” He bowed at the waist, turned on his heel, and walked out of the eatery.”
“Ask and ye shall receive,” said Honor.
“What are you talking about?”
“Didn’t he look like a handsome cavalry officer?”
“No. He looked like a middle-aged shipping tycoon.”
“Well, what do I know?” Honor pushed the card forward. “It seems the word is out that you are receiving callers. There will be many of these forthcoming, I imagine.”
“I don’t want it.”
The card suddenly rose up and flew through the air to the establishment’s entrance, where Senta Bly plucked it out of the air. As she walked toward the two women, all the other diners suddenly finished their meals and vacated the premises. A chair slid of its own accord from a nearby table to stop alongside the two women. Senta sat down in it. She was wearing a simple black skirt, but had eschewed a blouse in favor of a black leather corset. Her shoulder-length hair peaked out from beneath a man’s bowler hat.
“Are you sure you don’t want it?” she asked, holding up the card. “It is my birthday and I can think of no better gift than a nice warm man.”
“That belongs to Yuah,” said Honor, snatching the card from her hand.
“I promise to give him back when I’m done with him.”
“You can have it and him,” said Yuah, taking the card and giving it back to the sorceress, who stuck it into her cleavage. “I’m not interested in him.”
“So, how is it with you, ‘cuz?” Senta asked Honor.
“Ser gute,” said Honor. “I mean I’m very well, thank you. How are things with you?”
“Gut für ein haus fräu.”
“I didn’t forget your birthday,” said Yuah. “I imagine my gift has been delivered to your home by now.”
“Gloves?” said the sorceress.
“Yes, that’s right. Did you open it already?”
“No.”
“I shall give you your gift tonight at Hero’s house,” said Honor.
“Your sister has promised to make me one of her famous cakes,” said Senta. “In the meantime, I’m going to get a sandwich to take home for lunch. Ta.”
She stood up and walked into the indoor portion of the eatery, to place an order at the counter.
“Shall we leave now?” Honor asked Yuah.
“We don’t have to hurry away because Senta is here. She’s our friend, after all.”
“We are finished eating.”
“True.”
“If we sit here long enough, I’m sure another suitor will give you his card,” said Honor.
“You’re right. We should go.”
* * * * *
Having heard about cake earlier in the day, Yuah decided to order one made for pudding that evening. She spent a quiet afternoon lying on her bed reading Mr. Wissinger’s book: A Portrait of Zurfina the Magnificent. No doubt about it, he was a brilliant writer. His prose managed to make the whore sorceress sound like the gift from the Almighty.
Narsa helped her change into her evening gown and then hurried on to other household business. Yuah looked out her window. The whistling of the microraptor made her feel oddly nostalgic. She turned toward the mirror and softly cursed the grey in her hair. Walking from her room to the top of the staircase, she came face to face with a man coming from down the far hallway. He was a stout fellow in his late thirties, clean-shaven with blond hair, wearing an unadorned grey suit.
“Mr… Kilmurray, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Lady Dechantagne—Ar
thur Kilmurray.”
“If I may be so bold, Mr. Kilmurray, why are you in my house?”
He blushed.
“I was discussing business with Mrs. Staff.”
“I see. I trust you can find your way out.”
He bowed slightly and started down the stairs. Yuah changed course, and rather than following him, strode down the hallway from which he had emerged. Stopping at her sister-in-law’s door, she knocked smartly.
“Who is it?”
Yuah opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind her. Iolanthe sat on her bed, naked. The scent of sweating bodies and something more hung on the air.
“I asked who it was. I didn’t say come in.”
“Oh, my God!” squeaked Yuah.
Iolanthe got up and retrieved her dressing gown from its resting spot, draped over a padded chair. Yuah had to admire the firm tautness of her body.
“Oh, my God!” repeated Yuah. “I was going to ask why there was a man in my house without my permission, but now I know why he was here.”
“Oh, so now you want to be lady of the house?” asked Iolanthe, throwing the dressing gown over her head and shimmying into it.
“Oh, my God. Isn’t Mr. Kilmurray a married man?”
“What do I care?” said Iolanthe. “I’ve no interest in him. He’s just filling a need.”
“A need? It’s not a need.”
“Yes, it is. I find that once having enjoyed the physical presence of a man, I cannot do without it. So, I have Mr. Kilmurray take care of that need.”
“And… he’s been taking care of it… since Radley died?”
“No, he’s a recent addition. There have been others.”
“Others? Who? Oh, no. No, no, no. Not him. Tell me you didn’t with him.”
“I didn’t with him,” said Iolanthe.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying,” said Iolanthe. “I have no idea whom you’re talking about. I’m just trying to get this terribly personal business over with by agreeing with you.”
“Him.” Yuah’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Saba.”
Iolanthe shrugged.
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