The Price of Magic Page 4

  “Sssome would say better,” said Esther.

  “Some might, but certainly no one present,” said Iolana, tersely.

  “The truth iss,” Esther continued, “none of the lizzies bother me, because they’re too afraid of Stahwasuwasu Zrant.”

  “What is that, some kind of disease?”

  “It’s their name for me,” said Iolana, pursing her lips.

  “Do they have lizzie names for all of us?” wondered Wissinger.

  “No, not most people—just the humans that stand out to them, like everyone in our house.”

  “Oh, I see, because of Mrs. Government… um, I mean, your mother being the governor and your father being such an important member of the colony.”

  “Stahwasuwasu Zrant means ‘Child of the Sunrise’,” offered Esther.

  “That sounds like a good name.”

  “You have to understand the lizzies,” said Iolana, taking the tone of a guest lecturer. “You see, they have no word for children. They let their offspring run wild until they’re old enough to capture and tame. Prior to that, the little lizzies run around fending for themselves, living largely off insects and small birds, and trying to avoid predators. The lizzies refer to them as ‘pests’. So they have actually graced me with the name ‘morning pest’. It’s not a name I take pride in.”

  “They call Uncle Radley ‘the Yellow King,” said Terra. They call Mama ‘the thin brown and white one’. Of course Auntie Iolanthe is ‘the Matriarch’, and Augie’s ‘the little King.”

  “And what do they call you, my dear?”

  Terra’s shoulders slumped.

  “Zraniss.”

  He looked at her expectantly.

  “It means earthworm,” said Iolana.

  “Interesting,” said Wissinger, “given your given name, that is.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Terra.

  “Well, never mind. Who wants dessert?”

  Chapter Three: The High Priestess

  Hundreds of miles to the southeast of Port Dechantagne, the lizzie city of Yessonarah stretched across the sloping side of the great hill the lizzies had named Zsahnoon. Less than three years old, the city already housed more than 100,000 reptilians, and more were arriving every week. At the city’s northern edge, it touched the shore of Lake Tsinnook, created when the River Ssukhas was dammed. On the east, the city was protected by a great stone wall running from the edge of the hill to the lake, but there was only a wooden wall on the west side, and it had several large gaps in it. Amid a sea of square wooden houses were two dozen stone foundations that would someday hold important public buildings, but as yet only two such buildings existed. The first, the great palace of the king was in use, though it was only about two thirds completed. The other was the first great temple to the lizardmen’s god Yessonar.

  High Priestess Tokkenoht stood at the top of the stepped pyramid, 130 feet above the city streets. The pyramid’s design was different from temples in any other Birmisian city, as so many things about Yessonarah were different. Each of the nine levels, representing the nine ages of the universe, was covered in smooth white limestone. The staircase running up the pyramid’s front, from the base to the top, was marble trimmed with red brick fired in a kiln, a process learned from the soft-skins. Behind her, the square vault was dark grey marble, with a copper frieze and a doorway trimmed in copper. And on either side of that doorway was a sculpture of the god, carved of stone but covered in silver. The top of the vault was of course flat, to give the god a place to sit when he came to visit.

  The temple’s dedication was still three days a way, but everything was coming along. With a quick glance at the acolytes stationed at the vault, Tokkenoht descended the great staircase. A hundred or more lizzies, mostly new arrivals to the city, stopped what they were doing to watch her. She was quite a spectacle. Her smooth green skin was painted azure blue, with zigzag designs of bright yellow down her belly. She wore a cape made of feathers of all colors of the rainbow, from crimson achillobator feathers near her tail, to bright blue utahraptor feathers poking up to form a collar behind her head.

  When she reached the street, the crowd parted for her, some of them bowing low. She hissed pleasantly to them and then climbed into her sedan chair, an enclosed seat carried litter-like by the four large males, their bodies painted white, who waited beside it. It was a not a long journey to the palace, but the streets were busy, so by the time they arrived, the sun was already dropping toward the western horizon. When the bearers sat her chair down, Tokkenoht dismissed them for the day and walked quickly up the steps to the residence.

  “Welcome home, High Priestess,” said Sirris, waiting at the top. She had no paint or feathers, but wore a large gold necklace, with a Yessonar pendant.

  “Thank you, wife of my husband. Were you waiting to speak with me?”

  “No. I just stepped out here. I am on my way to check with Ssu and see that all the preparations are complete.”

  “I will go with you,” said Tokkenoht. “I want to see the… what was that soft-skin word that Kendra used?”

  “Children.”

  “Yes. I want to see the children.”

  Together, they walked through an ornately carved archway and into the royal gardens. The gardens were not particularly impressive at the moment, as the winter plants were past their prime. It wouldn’t be long till they were pulled out and replaced with spring flowers. But the colorful birds in the aviaries still sang and the fountains still sprayed their jets of water.

  Just past the gardens were five plots of carefully prepared soil, and just beyond them, a huge cage. Built like the aviaries, the cage was a half dome made of mesh wire over a wooden frame. Unlike the aviaries though, which were twenty feet in diameter, this great cage was one hundred feet across. Inside was a carefully created environment, replicating the forests that stretched out hundreds of miles in every direction.

  Ssu sat on a stone bench, watching the inhabitants of the cage. Tokkenoht and Sirris stopped beside her and looked. Scampering around inside the enclosure were some one hundred little lizzie offspring. Half of them were over a year old and already starting to walk upright. The other half, not yet yearlings, were still on all fours, scarcely thirty inches long.

  “How are they?” asked the high priestess.

  “They are good,” said Ssu, flushing her dewlap in pleasure.

  “Oh, that one is mine!” shouted Tokkenoht, spying a blue band on one of the little hind legs.

  Yes, things in Yessonarah were very different. Everywhere else in the world, female lizzies laid their eggs in communal nests in the forest. An old female was usually assigned to watch over the nest until hatching, but after the hatching, the offspring ran wild until they were captured and civilized into a lizzie household, or they were eaten. But here, in Yessonarah, the females were keeping track of their eggs and their offspring. What had started two years before as an experiment among the wives of the king, had spread. Now every house in the city was preparing its own nest for the coming spawning, and its each house had its own egg keeper. In two more years, the first lizzies ever to know their parents would be old enough to join society. This was the reason that so many lizardmen were flocking to Yessonarah, especially females.

  After the servants had stripped off her paint, and she had bathed, Tokkenoht walked into the hearth room and lay down on her mat, in the way of her kind, on her belly, arms down at her sides, and with her nose pointed toward the central fireplace. She had almost dozed off when Szakhandu lay down beside her.

  “You don’t want to fall asleep now, wife of my husband,” said Szakhandu. “It is almost time for the meal.”

  “I might skip it. I’m not that hungry.”

  “The king may want to mate tonight.”

  Tokkenoht lifted up her snout from the mat. “It’s too early.”

  “You don’t know,” said Szakhandu. “He is a strong, virile male.”

  Tokkenoht rolled her eyes. “You are as bad as a soft
-skin—always in season for him. You mate with him. I will make sure it is right with the others. For all the good it will do you. It’s too early.”

  Despite what she had said to Szakhandu, Tokkenoht went to the dining room for the evening meal. It was a huge room, dominated by a round table, about which Great King Hsrandtuss, his five wives, and the other occupants of the palace were arrayed. Lizzies typically ate only once per day, but Hsrandtuss insisted on meals being served at the palace twice a day, whether anyone else ate with him or not. That was probably why he was getting so fat.

  “What’s on your mind, Tokkenoht?” the king asked loudly. “You have that look.”

  “I was just thinking what a great king you are.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “Seriously. That is exactly what I was just thinking.”

  Hsrandtuss was fat, and he was getting old, and his body was scarred from countless battles, but he still had a handsome tail. He made strong and healthy offspring. And he was a good and wise king. Those were all good things. But there was more. Only Hsranduss had taken the leap of faith to try something so radical as letting people raise their own spawn. Only Hsranduss had elevated his wives to positions of great power. Hsrandtuss was the first to follow the new god, Yessonar. Yes, Tokkenoht was glad of her marriage. She looked at her husband, wearing the jagged band of gold, fashioned to resemble the golden hat worn by the king of all the soft-skins, who lived far away across the sea.

  Ssu was sitting next to the king. She was a simple female, but she was honest and diligent. That made her a perfect egg keeper. She had been Hsrandtuss’s wife longer than any of the others, and she was very attentive to the king, which kept him happy. Next to Ssu was Kendra. She was young, but she was small even for her age, a head shorter that Tokkenoht. Kendra had lived among the soft-skins, knew their ways, and spoke their oddly lyrical language. Next was Tokkenoht herself and on her right was Sirris. Sirris ran the palace and the family. She kept the peace among the wives. She also spoke many different lizzie dialects, which came in handy with all the newcomers arriving in the city. Hsrandtuss had stolen her in a raid on the rival village of Tserich, back when he was king of the village of Hiissierra

  Attarkakhis and his wife Tulu, and Slechtiss and his wife Astalassa sat just on the other side of Sirris. The two males had been with Hsrandtuss for many years and now served as his generals. Tulu was a rather unintelligent female, but pleasant enough. Astalassa was very young. She had such a beautiful tail that she had Slechtiss and quite a few other males wrapped around it, but Tokkenoht saw her for the conniving little salamander she was. Then there was Straatin, probably the largest male in the city, who served as protector of the palace, and his wife, a thoroughly average female, Assarotoch. Beside her sat Hunssuss. He was a very old lizzie, chief architect and engineer of the city, who had outlived several wives and any interest in having another. Nevertheless, Hsrandtuss had given him a new wife named Stohlissia. She had been part of a gift from the village of Achocktah, designed to sooth Hsrandtuss’s anger after warriors from that village had tried to assassinate him. She’d been living in the palace more than a year, but she still hunkered down in fear.

  Finally, between Stohlissia and the king, was Szakhandu. In addition to being one of Tokkenoht’s fellow wives, she was chief diplomat of Yessonarah, and the king counted on her when communicating with the many local villages and the other city-states far away. She had been born in distant Tsahloose of a noble family and had been bought by Hsrandtuss for her weight in copper. She was deeply devoted to her husband and he enjoyed showering her with gifts, but that did not necessarily mean that she was his favorite.

  A long line of servants entered carrying trays of food, which they deposited on a long table pressed up against the south wall. There was fish and fowl, dinosaur meat both cooked and uncooked, many different vegetable dishes, and dried fruit, preserved from the previous harvest. It was the tradition for the wives to serve their husbands first, and around the table, most of the females stood up. Both Ssu and Szakhandu jumped to serve Hsrandtuss.

  “Wait,” he said.

  Everyone in the room froze.

  “I want the high priestess to serve me.”

  Tokkenoht stood up and walked around the table to the king.

  “Do not forget, you may be the high priestess, but I am a personal friend of the god.”

  “More than that, you are Great King.” She stopped behind him and pressed her chin to his shoulder. “More than that, you are my husband.”

  Walking across the room to where the food sat waiting, she glanced over her shoulder to see that while everyone was watching her, Hsrandtuss’s eyes were following her tail. She gave it an extra little whip. She picked up a platter and filled it with a small bird, a small piece of cooked meat, quite a few vegetables, and an extra helping of fish. Bringing it back to the round table, she placed it in front of the king with a flourish.

  Hsrandtuss accepted it with a grunt. Only then did the other wives return to motion, preparing their husbands’ platters and serving them. Once that was done, they got their own meals, Tokkenoht along with them. Szakhandu gave her a playful shove while they were looking over the fruit.

  “I am worried, Great King…” started Slechtiss.

  “Ssukhas!” shouted Hsrandtuss.

  Several servants rushed in with big jugs full of the fermented beverage and filled the cups around the great table, starting with the king’s.

  “What are you worried about?” asked Hsrandtuss, only after he had completely emptied his cup.

  “I am worried about all the soft-skins down by the river.”

  “Why are you worried about them?” Hsrandtuss waved the hand holding his now empty cup dismissively, and then held it up for the servant to fill. “Tusskiqu is there with one hundred trained warriors to keep the peace and collect the taxes.”

  “But more come every day, and some of them are sneaking up to the hills to the southeast. They have been seen by our scouts.”

  “Why weren’t they detained? Those hills are off limits to them.”

  “Because they are soft-skins. They might have thunder weapons.”

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot! If our scouts can’t handle them, then they are to call for reinforcements. After all, we have our own thunder weapons, don’t we?”

  “We want that information to stay secret,” reminded Kendra quietly.

  “I know that! Why is everyone talking to me like I’m an addled egg?” He slammed his fist on the table. “Listen carefully. If soft-skins are found where they don’t belong, they are to be arrested and brought here, after disarming them and without harming them, if possible. Szakhandu, find out from Tusskiqu if he needs more warriors.”

  “Great King,” said Astalassa.

  Hsrandtuss glared at her as if daring her to say something about soft-skins or thunder weapons.

  “Great King, do you really think Yessonar will be here for the temple dedication?”

  “Of course he will. How can he miss it? It’s his first temple, after all.” He leaned back and hissed, happy at the change of subjects. “Like I said before, we are close friends.”

  Others began talking, carrying on conversations with those around them. Tokkenoht picked over the dried fruit on her plate and let her mind wander. There was still much to prepare for the dedication, and despite what she had told Szakhandu earlier, mating season would come soon. That was always a difficult time. Finally, she pushed her platter away and got up. Hsrandtuss didn’t notice her leaving. He was too busy being fed by Ssu.

  Returning to the hearth room, she lay down. She was almost asleep again when she heard someone lay down on the mat beside her. She opened one eye, expecting to see Szakhandu again, but it was Kendra.

  “Hello, Kendra.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Then why did you come in here?”

  “I wanted to see if you were all right.”

  “I don’
t know.”

  She felt Kendra move over to her mat, pressing up against her.

  “What’s bothering you?” she asked.

  “I have this feeling,” said Tokkenoht. “It is a feeling that difficult times are ahead. Have you ever had a feeling like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what happened?”

  “We were attacked by a pack of tyrannosauruses.”

  “I hope it’s as simple as that this time,” said Tokkenoht, before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

  The next day Tokkenoht stayed home at the palace. She didn’t bother with body paint, but wore a golden necklace that was a near match for the one Szakhandu had worn the day before. She skipped the morning meal, instead spending a couple of quiet hours watching the—what did the humans say… children—scurrying about in the cage. She even fed them mice through the tiny openings. She tried to make sure that all those with her blue leg tag got something to eat, but didn’t begrudge it when the offspring of one of her fellow royal wives snatched a rodent from her hand.

  Just after mid-day, Hunssuss, carrying a large rolled up piece of leather, visited her.

  “Hello, Wise Elder,” said Tokkenoht.

  “High Priestess. I have the plan for the Sky Temple.” He unrolled the leather on a table to reveal architectural plans. “The king wants to start construction now.”

  “We have one temple,” said Tokkenoht. “Surely we should finish some of the other buildings before we build another. The public baths are needed, as is the amphitheater. For that matter, we could finish the palace.”

  “The palace will be finished before the next bright face, just as promised. The king wants the temple started, and he is the king.”

  With a sigh, the priestess leaned over the plans.

  “No, this is not right at all. The ledges at the top of the levels must be narrower on the two sides. Then there must be two vaults of equal size at the top.”

  “Why must there be two vaults?” Hunssuss gurgled. “The God of the Forests is dead. The God of Death is dead. The God of the Sky is the only one left. Why do we need two vaults on his temple?”