The Drache Girl

by Wesley Allison

  “Are you coming?” Senta called up to the steel dragon.

  “No, I’m going to listen to the speeches.”

  Shaking their heads at the inscrutability of dragons, the four children tromped through the snow, walking between the trees of the forest lot so that they could come out on the street beyond the massive throng of people. They stepped out onto Bay Street about a mile north of the station and they followed it another mile till they reached the Town Square, which was as empty of human life as they had ever seen it. A single lizardman was crossing from east to west, carrying a little package.

  “I wonder if anyone is at Mrs. Finkler’s this afternoon,” said Hero. “I wouldn’t say no to some hot tea before walking all the way to the dinosaur pens.”

  Graham stopped to think and Senta laughed aloud at the expression he managed to screw his face into. It was obvious that he wanted to get out and ride the dinosaurs before any responsible adult had a chance to get there and stop him. On the other hand, he was as cold as the rest of them, from sitting in the brisk air high in a tree for a good long time, and then walking miles through the snowy streets.

  “If you only had a steam carriage,” said Senta, in a teasing voice.

  “Yes!” He grabbed hold of the fantasy with both hands. “Do you know how quick we could get from the train station to the dinosaur pens in a steam carriage like the ones Captain Dechantagne brought for his wife and his sister?”

  “How quick?” asked Senta, who despite growing up in the great city of Brech with hundreds, perhaps thousands of steam carriages roaming the streets, had never actually ridden in one.

  “Well, pretty darn quick! Hero, figure it out. That’s about seven miles distance, make it eight, what with all the turns in the road and all the walking people …”

  “Pedestrians,” offered Senta.

  “That’s right,” said Graham, not missing a beat. “I figure you could get forty miles per hour down a few of these straight-a-ways, but this is gravel, and you’ve got to keep it slow on the corners. Otherwise you might end up in a ditch like Mrs. Dechantagne. Figure an average speed of twenty miles per hour. How long would it take us Hero?”

  “From the Station to the dinosaur pens,” said Hero. “Twenty-four minutes.”

  “Yes!” Graham yelled out. “Twenty-four minutes. We’ve just got to get one of those steam carriages. We could save up and buy it together to share.”

  “How much does one cost?”

  “Captain Dechantagne told me that they cost 2500 marks each, chock full of special features and the latest trends, mind you. And it cost 500 marks to ship them to Birmisia.

  “So we could each chip in half of our income each month until we had enough,” said Senta. “That would be twenty-five marks from me.”

  “I could put it ten marks a month,” said Graham. “But Hertzel has more need of money at home. He could put in five marks a month, but he still gets an equal share.”

  “Fair enough,” said Senta. “And so does Hero. How much can you put in to fund the enterprise, Hero?”

  “Two marks,” said Hero, quietly.

  “It that all?” wondered Graham. “That’s not much.”

  “None of us are really putting in very much,” said Senta. “Even if we manage to save all the money we’re talking about here, it would still take us over five years to save up enough to buy a steam carriage and get it shipped all the way here.”

  “Five years!” wailed Graham. “It might as well be a hundred. I’ll be seventeen in five years. That’s too old to have any fun.”

  “I guess you’ll just have to ride your dinosaur,” said Senta. “Come on. Let’s see if tea is being served.”

  Mrs. Finkler’s was not completely empty. Aalwijn was there and patrons sat at two of the indoor tables. They all looked like new arrivals. One table held three women, one middle aged, one younger but looking so much like the first that she was obviously her daughter, and the third a dark-haired girl only a little older than the four friends. It was just as obvious that she was the daughter of the second woman. At the other table was a couple with a toddler. All three had blond hair, and though the woman was thin and sickly looking, the man and the child were both chubby and rosy-cheeked.

  Senta, Hero, and Hertzel sat down. Graham spun his chair around so that he could straddle it and rest his arms on the chair back and his chin on his arms. Hero rubbed her hands together to bring back the circulation. Senta looked over to see what the other patrons were having. Lunch today was obviously a stew, but she had already eaten.

  “Four teas, please,” she told Aalwijn, when he came to take their order. “Hey, how come you’re not at the station?”

  “Somebody had to stay to serve,” he said. “So Gaylene and I flipped for it.”

  “She probably cheated you,” said Graham. “She does that.”

  “No, I did the flipping.”

  Aalwijn left to get their order and returned with a tray loaded with a pot of hot water, tea strainer already dipped inside, four cups, and honey. He set it down and continued on his way to check on the other patrons. Senta passed out the cups and poured tea into each of them. Graham and Hertzel loaded their steaming cups with large scoops of honey. Senta and Hero added modest amounts to their tea.

  “Do you think your sister is sweet on Aalwijn?” Senta asked Graham.

  “I hope not.”

  “Why?”

  “Look at him. His eyes are all over that new-comer girl.”

  All four turned in Aalwijn’s direction and sure enough, he was staring in fascination at the dark-haired girl seated at the other table. After a moment, he saw that they were looking at him and stumbled off toward the kitchen.

  “Boys,” said Hero.

  Senta nodded.

  “What?” demanded Graham.

  The two girls shared a look, but said nothing else on the subject.

  When the four had finished their tea, Senta set four silver ten-pfennigs on the table and they left the bakery café. No other patrons had come in while they had been there, and the seven diners who had been seated when they arrived were still seated. The Town Square still looked completely abandoned.

  “I’d like to go over to Mrs. Bratihn’s,” said Senta.

  “Oh, come on,” pleaded Graham. “I want to go to the dinosaur pen.”

  “Why don’t you two go ahead, and we’ll join you,” suggested Senta.

  “I really don’t want to go to Mrs. Bratihn’s,” said Hero quietly, looking down at her own black coat and brown dress.

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t. Can’t we go to the dinosaur pen with the boys?”

  “Go ahead with them,” said Senta. “I’ll stop at Mrs. Bratihn’s and be along in a few minutes.”

  Hero nodded, and hurried off to catch up with Graham and her brother, who were already several paces away. Senta turned and crossed the Town Square to the Dress Shop. Mrs. Bratihn called out from the back when the bell rang over the door and a moment later came out to the front.

  “Good afternoon, Senta,” she said. “Why aren’t you at the train station dedication?”

  “It was boring. You?”

  “Well,” she laughed. “I guess I find that sort of thing boring too. Lawrence is there, and he can tell me what happened tonight at dinner. So what can I do for you?”

  “I need another new dress.”

  “That’s the third one in a month. At this rate you’re going to be a better customer for me than Mrs. Dechantagne.”

  “I’m going to buy lots of dresses,” said Senta. “I want a whole closet full.”

  “That’s wonderful, dear. What did you have in mind?”

  “Anything that’s not black.”

  “I had a bolt of lavender silk come in on the Arrow. I was thinking of making something stylish to put in the window—something with some darker purple velvet.”

  “Miss Jindra has a purple dress that is really nice. You can see her shoulder blades.”

 
“Yes, all the women want to show off their shoulder blades now,” said Mrs. Bratihn. “It’s very daring. We could make one like that for you.”

  Senta reached around to feel her back. She wondered how her shoulder blades would look. Stuffing her hand into her pocket, she pulled out a wad of bank notes and peeled off enough to pay for the dress. She had not even come close to spending her first month’s stipend, and now she already had another.

  “Do you need to measure me again?” she asked.

  “No dear. I doubt that your measurements have changed appreciably since last week. I do want you to look at some dress styles though, so we can be on the right track.”

  Mrs. Bratihn went into the back of the shop and returned with her huge dress stylebook. They sat looking through the pages and picking out things that they thought ought to be added to a dress, as well as things they thought ought never to be added to a dress. Senta was aided in this by a very distinctive idea of what she wanted. The more it looked like the dresses worn by Mrs. Government and Mrs. Dechantagne, the better the dress was as far as she was concerned, and the less it looked like those ladies’ dresses, the less she liked it. Within ten minutes, the two had hashed out enough details for Mrs. Bratihn to get started.

  Waving goodbye to the dressmaker, Senta stepped out into the cold and made her way across Town Square and through the great gate. She turned west down Second Avenue though a section of some of the first houses built in the colony. Though they were less than four years old, they seemed primitive compared to the more recent construction. Most were tiny, one room cottages. There were few people about here too, though Senta saw a man shoveling snow, and a woman shaking out a rug on her front step. When she got to the corner of Bainbridge Clark Street, Senta turned right and began skipping down the hill.

  She was nearing the docks when she saw four lizardmen walking away from the area. The speed at which they were moving could very well have been called running, so slow was the normal speed of reptilians during the winter. Then she heard shouting ahead, and she stopped to listen, but before she could discern the nature of the disruption the voices stopped. She continued on her way, but no longer skipping. When she reached the shipyard, everything seemed quiet.

  She stepped around the corner of an equipment storage shed that stood on the left hand side of the street and she saw her three friends. Graham was sitting on the cold ground, his legs sticking straight out in front of him and his chin resting on his chest. Hero and Hertzel were standing next to him. Senta lifted up the front of her skirts and ran the last fifty feet to stand beside the three. Tears streamed silently down both sides of Graham’s face, which was deep red. A purple welt was beginning to form around his left eye.

  “What happened?”

  Hero and Hertzel both looked at her, but neither spoke.

  “What happened?” she asked again.

  “Nothing,” said Graham. He slowly got to his feet. “Nothing happened.”

  “Those lizzies didn’t attack you?”

  Hertzel shook his head, but Graham just stomped off to stand with his back to them, a dozen feet away.

  “If it wasn’t the lizzies, then what happened?” Senta asked, this time looking directly at Hero.

  “There were…” she paused and looked at Graham’s back, but he didn’t move. “There were three men. They had some of the lizzies kind of pushed into this spot. They were threatening them. Oh, maybe they were just teasing them, but…”

  “But what?”

  “They said they were going to cut their tails off.”

  “Wankers,” said Senta.

  “Yes, well, Graham jumped in and told them to ‘sod off’. Then one of them…”

  “One of them what?” said Senta, her voice taking a menacing tone.

  “One of them hit him.” Hero’s eyes welled up.

  “Which way did they go?” growled Senta.

  Hero did nothing but look stricken, but Hertzel immediately pointed toward Seventh and One Half Avenue, and the apartments just beyond.

  “I’m going to rip their hearts out.”

  “No,” said Graham.

  “Don’t worry. I’m going to…”

  “No, you’re not,” said Graham, louder than before.

  He stomped back over to where the other three stood. Fresh tears streamed down his face and a little trail of snot flowed from his right nostril. It made a bubble when he breathed.

  “All right, I won’t kill them,” said Senta. “I’ll just teach them a lesson.”

  “You’re not going to do anything!” shouted Graham, pointing at her, his finger so close to her face that it made her start. “I don’t need you to stick up for me!”

  “I just…”

  “I don’t need anyone to fight for me! Especially not a girl!”

  He walked several steps away.

  “And you’re not my girlfriend!” he shouted and broke into a full run, not stopping as he ran south and out of sight around some buildings.

  The three friends stood looking at the place where Graham had disappeared. Then, as if some magical spell had been broken, people began to appear on the street. First a few could be seen at the top of the hill, coming down Bainbridge Clark Street. A moment later half a dozen more people walked down Seventh and One Half Avenue. Within ten minutes, the streets of Port Dechantagne were as busy as they ever were. Hero came and put her arms around Senta’s shoulders. Neither of the girls seemed to know what to say, and of course, Hertzel never said anything.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Police Constable Eamon Shrubb had walked up next to them without them even noticing. He looked down at the two girls and the boy, and his brow furrowed with concern.

  “What’s going on here?” he said again, but this time in a softer voice.

  Senta sighed.

  “Tell him what happened,” she told Hero, and she began walking back up the hill the way she had come.

  It was only coincidence that the way she had come, the way she now walked back, was the way that Graham had taken when he had run away. Still she watched carefully for him as she made her way across town, following the gravel streets still lined with snow until she reached her home. She opened her front door and went inside without having seen any evidence of him along the way. As she closed the door after her, she looked to the corner for Bessemer, but he wasn’t there—not yet back from the train station. So she went up the stairs to her room.

  She still had her coat on, but Senta felt colder than she had ever felt before. She went to the tub, putting the plug in the hole, and opened the spigot, turning the water to a very hot setting. When the tub was two thirds full, she turned off the water, and peeled off her clothing one layer after another. She climbed over the lip of the tub and settled in to the hot water. In a few minutes, she was perspiring across her forehead from the heat, but she still felt cold on the inside, so she lowered herself down so that only her nose and eyes stuck out.

  She was just floating in the water, when Zurfina’s head appeared, upside down from her perspective, looking down at her. Senta lifted her head completely above the surface.

  “What?”

  “I have to go away for a few days, Pet.”

  “Where do you have to go?”

  “Sumir.”

  “Sumir?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s twelve thousand miles away!” shouted Senta, sitting up in the tub.

  “Yes, more or less.”

  “There’s not even a ship in port.”

  Zurfina waved her hand dismissively. “Pish-posh. I don’t need a ship. I’m a very powerful something something—you know how the rest goes.”

  “Well, how long are you going to be gone?”

  “A few days. A year at the most.”

  “A year!”

  “I said, ‘at the most’. Now remember, Miss Jindra may be staying here, but you are the lady of the house, while I’m away.”

  “Did you tell her you were leaving?”


  “No, she doesn’t need to know. And no one else needs to know I’m gone either.”

  “How about Bessemer?”

  “Well of course, he knows,” said Zurfina. “Now be a good girl and take care of our boy.”

  “You’re leaving right now?”

  “Yes,” replied the sorceress, and patting Senta once on the head, she left the room.

  Senta could hear her going up the stairs.

  She stayed in the water until it was only slightly warmer than the air around, then she climbed out, pulling the plug out of the drain. She slipped into her nightdress, even though it was only past teatime. It was still light out, and darkness came very early in the Birmisian winter. She walked downstairs, opened the door of the stove and stirred the coals around. Then she added three more logs. She filled a kettle and set it on the stove. Then she just stood by the stove thinking what a miserable day it turned out to be, and of the events which had caused it to be so. A knock at the door roused Senta from these unpleasant thoughts and when she opened it, she found Hero standing at the step.

  “Come on in.” The cold air from outside swirled around Senta’s ankles. “I just put on the water.”

  “Good,” said Hero. “I’m just frozen though.”

  “Here, take your coat off and sit with me in the comfy chair,” said Senta, pulling the large stuffed chair close to the stove, and grabbing a blanket from a pile near the door.

  The chair, though capacious, was designed for one person to sit in. However both girls were thin and were able to fit into it side by side with no problem. Hero kicked off her shoes and they both lifted their feet up onto the seat and covered themselves over with the blanket so that only their heads were out. The air in the room was beginning to be warmed. The two friends leaned their heads together and sat quietly for a long time.

  Finally the kettle began to whistle, and Senta got up to transfer the water into a teapot, dip a tea strainer filled with tea leaves and mint into it, and to prepare two cups.

  “I was so afraid today,” said Hero.

  “You’re always afraid, Hero.”