The Drache Girl

by Wesley Allison

  Yuah turned and shoved the door open, stomping outside. Before the door slammed shut behind her, she could hear her father calling the meeting to a close. She paced back and forth several times as the few citizen-observers filed out. After a few moments her father and Miss Lusk stepped outside too.

  “Are you here to take me to lunch?” asked Zeah.

  “No,” said Yuah pointedly.

  “Yuah, you can’t wake up one morning and decide to take an interest in what’s going on. Politics is a complicated business.”

  Yuah scrunched up her nose in a very Iolanthe-like expression.

  “Your father is right,” said Miss Lusk.

  “Oh I’m not talking to you at all.”

  “Don’t be like that Yuah,” said her father, taking Miss Lusk by the arm. “Miss Lusk has been doing more to stay involved than visiting the dress shop.”

  The couple walked away leaving Yuah with her mouth hanging open. For a good few minutes, she wondered how her father had known that she had just come from the dress shop. By the time she realized that he didn’t know, and that his comment had instead been an indictment of her habits over the past few months, he and his fiancé were gone. At that moment, Mother Linton stepped out the door.

  “I’m sorry about our misunderstanding,” said the priest.

  “Oh, there’s no misunderstanding. You’re blinkered.”

  “I am not narrow-minded. Nor am I a racist,” said Mother Linton. “I just don’t want our faith diminished. This colony was founded by Kafirites and the majority of its citizens are Kafirites. It only makes sense that it should be the official religion.”

  “Funny,” said Yuah. “When I was here, my little Zaeri self, one of the first women on this shore, to build the colony and all—somehow I don’t remember seeing you, you fat, ugly cow.”

  “How dare you!”

  “How dare me? I’ll tell you how dare me! The next time I see you, I’m going to sock you in the eye!”

  “I warn you against threatening me, Mrs. Dechantagne.”

  “Oh, it’s not a threat. It’s a promise. Augie Dechantagne taught me to box when I was nine years old, and I haven’t lost it.” She balled up her right fist and waved it dangerously in the air.

  “If you cannot interact like a lady, I will not speak with you.” Mother Linton turned and with her long clerical robes waving, swept out of the militia base.

  “You won’t speak with me anyway!” yelled Yuah. “Cow! And if you get in front of my steam carriage, I’ll run over your bovine ass!”

  “But what do you really think of our Mother Linton,” asked Honor, suddenly by her side.

  Yuah just growled.

  “Very fierce, and brave considering the magic which priests of Kafira frequently possess.”

  “Magic to heal and speak with the dead and the like?”

  “Most of them also have quite potent defensive combat spells.”

  “Well that would have been something better learned five minutes ago.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry,” said Honor. “She won’t do anything.”

  “She won’t do anything but restart the Inquisition and burn us all as heretics.”

  “That’s what I mean. She won’t do anything besides that.”

  A police constable, his blue uniform immaculate and his helmet straight atop his head strolled over to the two women.

  “Good morning, PC Shrubb,” said Honor.

  “It is a good morning,” said Shrubb. “Or it was until a very upset priest informed me that she had been threatened with violence by Mrs. Dechantagne. ‘You don’t mean Mrs. Yuah Dechantagne,’ says I, to which she replied ‘Do you know any other Mrs. Dechantagne?’ and I was forced to admit that ‘no, I suppose we have only the one’.”

  “I’m sorry Eamon,” said Yuah.

  “Violators call me Police Constable Shrubb,” he said, then lowered his voice and leaned forward. “The woman’s a right witch, but she is a priest. If you go threatening her, there are plenty of people round abouts who are going to think badly of you, your family, and all the Zaeri for it.”

  “I’m sorry, PC” said Yuah, tears welling up in her eyes at the thought that others might be inconvenienced or worse because of her words.

  “Besides,” continued Shrubb. “I’ve seen you drive. And when you do eventually run someone over, you’re going to want to be able to claim it was an accident.”

  Yuah turned, and burying her face in Honor’s shoulder, burst out crying.

  Shrubb passed a nonplussed look to Honor.

  “It’s probably girl time,” she said.

  “It’s not –sob—girl time,” cried Yuah. “It’s the –sob—steam carriage.”

  “I must be about my duties,” said Shrubb, rolling his eyes up to look at the sky, and leaving them there as he turned around to walk away.

  Yuah continued to weep on Honor’s shoulder for ten minutes. For her part, the younger woman patted her on the back. At last, Yuah stood up, pushed a few stray wisps of brown hair back under her lavender top hat and pulled out her handkerchief to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.

  “Why don’t you come have lunch at my house,” said Honor.

  “No, you must come have lunch at our house,” said Yuah. “I owe you lunch after all.”

  “All right.”

  They walked out of the north end of the militia base and through the gate into the square. Yuah suddenly stopped.

  “What’s the matter?” wondered Honor.

  “My steam carriage is gone!”

  “Are you sure you left it here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I can go back and find Eamon Shrubb.”

  “No, don’t bother. I’m glad it’s gone. I hope that whoever took it catches it on fire.”

  “Are you sure it’s not girl time?”

  “Oh, it’s definitely not girl time,” said Yuah. “There’s not going to be any more girl time, not for about nine months.”

  “But your baby’s only four months old.”

  “Don’t I know it?”

  “And you’re still nursing him?”

  “Yes, and apparently that’s not the guarantee that I thought it was.”

  “Well that’s call for celebration isn’t it?”

  “Not until I tell everyone.”

  “You’ve told your husband?”

  “No, not yet,” said Yuah. “Everything seems to be going so well right now. Terrence seems almost happy for the first time. I don’t want to upset anything now.”

  “Surely he’ll be pleased?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t know for sure.”

  “You’ll never be sure until you tell him.”

  “I’ll tell him when I think the time is right.”

  “Of course,” said Honor. “That’s your decision. Say, if you were coming to the council meeting, why did you park all the way over here?”

  “I was at Mrs. Bratihn’s shop.”

  “Well of course.”

  “Hold off,” said Yuah, grasping Honor’s elbow. “I was getting a shrine dress.”

  “Oh I’m sure it will be very nice,” Honor replied, looking down at Yuah’s lavender day dress with gold brocade and plunging back.

  “You’ll love it,” said Yuah. “It’s got absolutely no color at all.”

  Both women laughed.

  “Spending so much time with me over the last two months has had a good effect on you then,” said Honor. “I myself shall probably wear a fancy rose creation with a pair of stuffed birds on the bosom.”

  “See,” replied Yuah. “I’ve had quite an effect on you as well—I don’t know if it’s good or not. I suppose that depends on the birds.”

  The women walked through town toward the Dechantagne home, talking all the way. As she usually did, Honor made Yuah’s day much lighter. When they were only a hundred yards away from home however, Yuah stopped and sighed, folding her arms over her chest. There in front of the house, on the edge of the street, was he
r steam carriage.

  “Come on,” said Honor, pulling Yuah along.

  They walked past the vehicle and up the walkway to the stairs. Waiting as always, was Tisson, to open the door for them. In the parlor, Terrence was seated on the couch reading with his feet resting on the coffee table. When he saw his wife and her friend enter, he stood up.

  “Well if it’s not the two most beautiful women in the colony,” he said.

  “Iolanthe’s not home then?” asked Yuah.

  “Why?”

  “You didn’t leave room for her to be one of the most beautiful women in the colony and you had your feet on her coffee table.”

  “That’s actually my coffee table,” he said. “And where have you been? I found your carriage steaming away in the square, but you were nowhere to be found.”

  “That boy said he would open the relief cock.”

  “Well he did. But you can’t just leave it burning. Coal is fifty-five p a pound.”

  Yuah stuck out her lip for a moment.

  “I need a driver,” she said. “Driving is too… unladylike.”

  Terrence paused for a moment. “Whatever you want, sweetie,” he said. “I think they have lunch ready.” He kissed her on the cheek as he walked by on his way to the dining room.

  Yuah and Honor followed Terrence and easily found their places at the great family dining table. Mrs. Colbshallow was there, as was Mrs. Malgorzata Calliere, and little Iolana Calliere. The two Dechantagnes and friend made six diners, though the table was set up as if an entire regiment were expected. Two lizardmen servants brought out tray after tray of food, including a small fowl on a silver platter.

  “Good heavens, what is that?” wondered Honor.

  “Pheasant,” replied Terrence. “I brought it back with me from Brech.”

  “Alive?”

  “Of course not. It was canned.”

  “It’s been a long time since I had pheasant,” said Yuah. “I wonder. Will it be any good canned, or will it be like the milk?”

  “I like the canned milk better,” said the elderly Mrs. Calliere. “It doesn’t have that taste that I don’t like.”

  “That taste is called freshness,” said Yuah.

  “Well, it can’t be any worse than iguanodon,” said Terrence, taking the carving knife and slicing the bird.

  He passed it to each of the other diners, who added it to their plates, along with cucumber sandwiches, curried eggs, scones and jam, sausages, beans, and chips. Yuah cut hers and tasted it carefully.

  “Not too bad, really.”

  “Bought a new dress today?” asked Terrence.

  “Yes, but I need it.”

  “I want a new dress too,” said Iolana. “A new dress and a new doll.”

  “You talk to your mother about that. All my funds are going to keep this one in dresses and coal.” Terrence waved his fork in Yuah’s direction.

  “These scones are a bit heavy,” said Mrs. Colbshallow.

  “They’re like anything else,” said Terrence. “If you put enough butter on them, they’re fine.”

  “I have always found it best to slice one’s butter razor thin,” said Mrs. Calliere.

  “Well that’s just silly,” said Yuah. “Who wouldn’t want a large slab of butter if they could get it?”

  “That way, your bottom doesn’t get too large,” continued Mrs. Calliere, as though no one had spoken.

  Terrence passed the butter dish toward his wife. “Here, you could use a little more bottom.”

  Mrs. Colbshallow and Honor both burst out laughing. Yuah stuck out her tongue. Mrs. Calliere spread seven or eight razor thin slices of butter across her scone and took a huge bite of it.

  After lunch, Yuah and Honor went upstairs and found Cissy rocking little Augie back and forth in her great scaly arms as she stood beside his basinet. The little pink hands and feet kicked wildly, without any signs of dexterity, just inches below the long alligator-like snout. Yuah took her baby from the lizardman and held him, while Honor stepped behind her and helped her remove the top portion of her dress so that she could feed him. Cissy left the room and the two women talked as Augie suckled at his mother’s breast.

  “They are so strange, so alien,” said Honor. “Don’t you ever worry about them taking care of your baby?”

  Yuah looked around, and then nodded.

  “It’s strange. You’re right. They are so very alien. But Cissy has been taking care of Augie now since he was born. He’s going to grow up like Iolana, completely used to them. But what else can you do. There is no other help here. All of the new arrivals want to start in earning their own fortunes. They don’t want to work as domestics.”

  “You could always take care of him yourself,” said Honor. “You know millions of women do it back in Sumir.”

  “Yes, I know. And that’s why they look the way they do—old. Even with help, Augie really wears me down. I don’t know how women cope with seven or eight. I don’t know if I will survive two.”

  “I’m not criticizing. Well, I suppose I was, really. But I don’t blame you. With Hero and Hertzel, I feel like I’ve already raised two of my own. It’s just that when you see one of them, the lizzies, holding a baby… well, it’s just… you know.”

  “Like they’re going to eat him?”

  “Yes. Just like that.”

  “We’ll just have to hope that Zurfina was wrong,” said Yuah.

  “Zurfina?”

  “Yes, she once told Terrence that now that we were living here, it was only a matter of time before children were eaten. So far as I know, none have been.”

  “A few adults though, just not by the lizzies.”

  Yuah nodded as she switched Augie to the other breast.

  “How does Hertzel feel about them? He works with them all the time at the docks.”

  “He gets along with them all right. I don’t know how he does it.” She rolled her eyes and a peculiar expression passed across her face. “Before we got here, I wondered what would happen to Hertzel. I didn’t know how he could survive in the world if he didn’t start talking again. He does it though. I don’t know how, but he manages an entire crew of lizzies on the dock and never says anything at all.”

  “Well… that’s good… that he can do his job”

  “Mein poor bruder,” said Honor, slipping into her Freedonian accent.

  Yuah stood up.

  “Augie’s asleep,” she said, stepping across the room to set him in his basinet. “Help me get my clothes back on.”

  “I’m not your dressing maid, Mrs. Dechantagne,” said Honor, helping her nonetheless on with her clothing. “I’m out to make my own fortune in the world. I’m not interested in serving as a domestic.”

  “It’s getting so that you people in the lower classes don’t know your place anymore,” Yuah said with a straight face, but a twinkle in her eye. “Soon enough you’ll be wanting to marry into the family.”

  “Heaven forbid,” said Honor. “Now I think I will go home and bake my little brother a cake. Can you meet me at the docks tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “The new ship from Freedonia should be arriving.”

  “And?”

  “Just meet me there.”

  “All right.”

  Yuah walked her friend to the front door and waved goodbye. Then she went back upstairs and had Cissy help her remove her dress, this time completely, and take off her corset. Then she lay down and took an afternoon nap. After she got back up and got dressed, she met Mrs. Colbshallow and Mrs. Calliere in the library for cards. As Yuah dealt, Terrence stepped into the room and looked over her shoulder.

  “Master Terrence,” said Mrs. Colbshallow. “Why don’t you sit down? You can be our fourth for Canals.”

  “No thank you.”

  “Whispy it is,” said Yuah, finishing her deal.

  Iolanthe walked into the library. She wore a billowy pink satin gown that looked as though it were made from enough material to clothe a dozen wome
n, though none of it covered her shoulders or neck. She quickly scanned the room.

  “Has anyone seen my husband?” she asked.

  “He’s probably off with the new wizard,” said Terrence.

  “New wizard?”

  “A new wizard in from Brech. He said he was going to tell you all about it. Apparently he’s here about the Result Mechanism.”

  Iolanthe peeled off her elbow-length pink silk gloves and pursed her lips. Then she walked over to the roll-top desk, opened the top drawer, and took out a .45 caliber revolver. The nickel-plated pistol looked enormous in her small hand. With well-practiced precision, she opened the cylinder, checked the ammunition, and flicked it closed. Then she turned and walked out of the room, the trail of her dress following her.

  “Are you going to go after her?” Yuah asked her husband.

  He raised both eyebrows and shrugged. “You know how I feel about wizards. Why should I care if she shoots one… or Mercy.”

  Yuah glared at him. He followed his sister out the library door. Yuah and Mrs. Colbshallow looked at one another. Mrs. Calliere stared intently at her hand.

  “I have too many cards.”

  “We’re playing whispy,” said Yuah. “You’re supposed to have eleven cards.”

  “But I have eleven cards.”

  “Eleven cards.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Let me give this one back.”

  “No.”

  “But I have eleven cards.”

  “Yes.”

  “Here.” Mrs. Calliere pulled a card from the middle of her hand and slid it across the table.

  Terrence walked back into the room carrying the .45 caliber revolver. Opening the cylinder, he emptied the shells into his hand. Tossing the revolver back into the top drawer of the desk, he stuffed the shells into his trouser pocket. Shaking his head, he walked back out of the room. The three women played cards until dinnertime, despite the fact that through the entire game Mrs. Calliere’s hand contained one fewer card than those of the other two women. Iolanthe was present at dinner, though she wasn’t in a talkative mood. The professor was still nowhere to be found. After dinner, Yuah spent the evening playing with Augie and Iolana, and read them both a bedtime story. Finally, after Cissy helped her undress once again, she slid beneath the cool sheets of her bed, and into the warm waiting arms of her husband.