The Sorceress and her Lovers Read online

  “I’m not fooled for a moment,” said Maro. “I’ve listened to your son tell enough stories about your meals.”

  “I’ll wager you’re seldom fooled,” said Iolana, dreamily.

  “Stop simpering,” said her mother.

  The girl pursed her lips and glared. Her father placed a hand gently over hers and smiled.

  “Is that a new dress, Iolanthe?” asked Honor.

  “Yes it is,” replied Iolanthe. “I just picked it up from Madame DuBois.”

  The dress in question was a sky blue silk creation, with a tight-fitting bodice, scooped in front and in back, but with wave upon wave of material from the waist down. It certainly looked to have cost a fortune, but then no more than the dresses that Iolana, Terra, and Auntie Yuah were wearing. Honor’s simple black skirt and white blouse with black necktie was the only female attire in the room that didn’t look as though it came right out of a fashion show.

  “I have Madame DuBois making a dress for me,” said Honor.

  Yuah Dechantagne dropped her spoon, which splashed into her mostly full soup bowl.

  “I’m dreaming,” she said airily, absentmindedly wiping the splatter from her dress with a napkin in one hand, while waving the other hand through the air like a blind woman. “Maybe I’ve died. I’ve passed on to the other side, where nothing is as it really should be.”

  “Oh go on,” said Honor. “It’s not that unusual. I’m entitled to a new dress, aren’t I?”

  “No one would argue that you are not entitled, dear,” said Mrs. Colbshallow. “But it is unusual. I would wonder that I wasn’t dreaming myself, if Yuah wasn’t just as cheeky as usual and your husband wasn’t just as handsome as he always is.”

  “Do we have to talk about dresses all day?” asked Augustus Marek Virgil Dechantagne as he pushed his bowl away. “How many dinosaurs did you shoot today, uncle, and how come I didn’t get to go?”

  “We will go later in the week,” said Mr. Staff. “And I didn’t shoot anything, though Iolana did.” With a quick glance at his daughter, he turned his attention to his niece. “Would you like to go hunting with us next time, Terra?”

  “She’s just a little girl, Radley!” hissed her mother.

  “All Dechantagnes should know how to handle firearms,” said Iolanthe.

  “I don’t want her birthday spoiled,” said Yuah, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I was planning to buy her a machine gun.”

  “I don’t think I want a machine gun,” said Terra in her peculiarly scratchy little voice. “I think I want a puppy.”

  “Well my birthday is coming up too,” said Augie hopefully.

  Iolanthe gave a wave, and the soup bowls were quickly picked up and replaced with green salads topped with oil and vinegar.

  “This is quite fancy,” said Geert McCoort. “I must say I wasn’t expecting this for tea.”

  “Don’t worry,” Iolanthe assured him. “The meal is very light. It’s just that this new group of lizzies still needs work.”

  “It would be much easier if the help wasn’t being fired as quickly as they were hired,” said Mrs. Colbshallow.

  The governor ignored her.

  “How come your family isn’t with you, Mrs. C?” asked Maro.

  “My son is working and Loana and my sweet grandchild are visiting friends. So I decided to pop across the street and intrude.”

  “Never an intruder Mrs. C,” said Mr. Staff. “You’re family, after all.”

  “How true,” said Iolanthe. “And you can’t get rid of family.”

  “How is Mr. Wissinger’s book selling?” Mr. Staff asked the elder McCoort.

  “Smashingly,” answered the younger brother before the older could open his mouth. “We couldn’t be doing better if we used the press to print the money ourselves and cut out the middle man.”

  “We don’t want to brag about it,” said Geert, looking at Iolana. “And there are other books…”

  “Who’s bragging,” Maro cut him off. “I’m just telling the truth. That’s what newspapermen do.”

  “There is nothing wrong with prosperity,” said Iolanthe, “so long as one remembers to pay his taxes.”

  “Sure, sure,” said Maro, waving the notion aside. “I’m investing some of my wealth in a new steam carriage. Sawyer and Sons is already hard at work on it. It will be yellow.”

  “Perhaps you could take me for a ride in it,” suggested Iolana.

  Maro looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Sure, I’ll give all you kids a ride.”

  “A steam carriage would be a great birthday present,” said Augie, as Iolana slumped down in her chair. “That is, you know, if machine guns are off the table.”

  “I doubt you’ll be disappointed come Magnius,” said his mother.

  “The reason I was asking about the book,” said Mr. Staff, “was that I very much want to read it. If you have copies in stock, I’ll send a lizzie around to pick it up.”

  Geert nodded, but Iolanthe said, “You don’t read books, Radley.”

  “Of course I do. I think we should all read this one. We know the author and it’s an important topic. Don’t you agree, Augie?”

  Young Augustus didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m sure your father would have agreed with me.”

  “Hardly a sufficient argument,” said Iolanthe, “as my brother was possessed of a bizarre and expensive book fetish.”

  “Get several copies, Radley,” said Yuah, glaring at her sister-in-law. “That way we can all read it together.”

  “I’ve already read it,” said Iolana. “Twice. It is wonderfully written.”

  “Stop showing off,” said her mother.

  When the salad plates were taken away, they were replaced by dinner plates carefully arranged with cheese and chutney sandwiches, sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, and mint custard.

  “Do I detect a theme?” asked Honor.

  “There was quite a lot of mint invading the garden,” replied Mrs. C. “I hope you enjoy the flavor because it is a feature of dessert too. I had the lizzies cranking the freezer all morning to make mint ice cream.”

  “Yay, ice cream!” shouted Terra.

  The ice cream was delicious, served in small antique bowls and topped with a sprig of mint. Afterwards the adults, Iolana along with them, adjourned to the parlor, while a lizzie nurse guided Augie and Terra to their bedrooms for their nap. Another lizzie poured small glasses of fortified wine for Staff, his wife, and his sister-in-law.

  “So why did you decide on a yellow carriage, Maro?” asked Mr. Staff.

  “I can tell you the answer to that,” said Iolanthe. “He chose yellow so that everyone would see it.”

  Maro grinned and nodded. “Everyone will see me and say ‘there goes that young McCoort fellow—only twenty years old and already rich’.” He tried to twirl his mustache, but there wasn’t quite enough to get ahold of.

  “I don’t think we need to stand out all of the time,” said his brother. “Sometimes it’s better to be humble.”

  “That’s your wife talking, that is,” said Maro.

  “And so what if it is,” said Yuah. “More men should listen to the sensibilities of their wives.”

  Iolanthe sipped her wine but said nothing. Iolana supposed her mother was not particularly happy to find herself in such obvious agreement with Auntie Yuah.

  The conversation turned to politics and Iolana’s attention lapsed. To her mind, the subject was far too common in the Dechantagne Staff household. She looked out the window at the rear end of a steam carriage, just visible from where it was parked on the other side of the portico. It wasn’t yellow, and it probably wasn’t nearly as nice as Maro’s was going to be. She could imagine herself in the passenger seat of his yellow car, cruising down the streets of Port Dechantagne, with her golden hair trailing behind her.

  “Have you heard from your cousin?” Iolanthe asked, and for a second Iolana thought she was talking to her.

  “Not since Quaduary
,” said Geert. “The post was almost two months old, and even then she didn’t say much—just that she was on her way to Bangdorf.”

  “She should be here doing her part,” said Iolanthe. “I need her advice on something.”

  “Is it the Result Mechanism?” asked Honor. “I thought Egeria was in charge of it.”

  Iolanthe suddenly stiffened and turned to look into her daughter’s eyes. “Iolana, go check on your pet lizzie. See that it’s not getting into trouble.”

  “She,” corrected Iolana, getting to her feet and leaving the parlor. Iolana wasn’t fooled. She was exiled from society every time the subject turned to Professor Merced Calliere. He was the genius who had invented the steam-powered calculating machine known as the Result Mechanism. Iolana also knew that he had been, prior to his death, her mother’s first husband. She had managed to glean this much despite the fact that the entire house seemed to have been stripped of any trace of its former occupant.

  The eleven-year-old went upstairs to her bedroom. As she expected, Esther was lying on the floor like a reptilian throw rug, her nose pointed at the cold fireplace.

  “Couldn’t you find something better to do than just lie there?”

  The lizzie scrambled to her feet and clutched her hands together in front of her. The girl sighed.

  “Have you eaten today?”

  The reptilian bobbed her head up and down.

  “Say the word.”

  “Yesss.”

  “Fetch my boots. We’re going for a walk.”

  Fifteen minutes later, her heavy walking boots added to her outfit and a straw boater atop her golden hair, Iolana stepped through the front gate. Once Esther had followed her through, she closed it. Cobblestone walkways lined both sides of the brick street, dotted here and there with maple trees that were surrounded by wrought iron fencing. Turning east, the girl began striding confidently along. The houses near her home were widely spaced mansions. She passed the Lancaster home and then the Stephenson home. Though it was a pleasant enough day, none of the human inhabitants of those houses were anywhere to be seen outside. Their lizzie servants were thick though.

  Just past the Stephenson home was a large empty lot and then the beginning of Zaeritown. Though the colonists who were of the Zaeri faith were not required to live in the district, they tended to congregate here. In the past few years, the houses in the neighborhood had begun to grow larger than the diminutive cabins that had dominated when Iolana was little. Turning down Redwood, she passed half a dozen medium-sized well-kept houses before arriving at her destination.

  She stopped and stared. Ascan Tice was chopping wood just around the front right corner of his home. He had his shirt off and sweat glistened off his muscles. Dark-haired like most ethnic Zaeri, Ascan was quite handsome, even if his ears did stick out a bit. Iolana had admired him since she was a little girl and he had been a tall boy with no muscles at all.

  “Hey ‘Lana!” he called with a wave. Setting down his axe, he grabbed his shirt from a tree branch and dressed as he walked toward her.

  “No need to stop on my account,” she said.

  “Oh, I’m done,” he said, buttoning up his shirt. “Is there something wrong?”

  Suddenly recognizing that her face had been plastered with a goofy grin, Iolana mentally shook herself. “No, I’m just here to visit your sister.”

  “I knew you didn’t come to see me,” smiled Ascan. “She’s inside. Come on. Um, bring your lizzie.”

  Iolana turned to see Esther standing about a dozen feet back in the road.

  “Come on,” she waved, and then muttered, “before you get yourself run over.”

  Ascan led the girl and lizzie up the walkway, constructed of fitted stones, to the front door. The solid oak door was painted green, which matched the shutters and window frames of the medium-sized two-story house. He opened the door and waved them in ahead of him.

  “Willa!” he called, once they were all inside and the door was closed. “Iolana is here!”

  Ascan headed up the stairs and Willa came quickly down. Only slightly taller than Iolana, despite being five years older, Willa was dressed in similar fashion, minus in this case, the boater. The two girls also had very similar hairstyles—glorious waves of hair cascading over their shoulders. While Iolana’s was the golden color of honey, Willa’s was so dark black that in certain light, it seemed blue. Willa had been good friends with Iolana since the latter had turned seven.

  “Lana!” cried the Zaeri girl, grabbing her friend in a great hug. “I was just getting my boots on to walk over to your house. Hello, Esther.”

  The lizzie hunkered down.

  “I’m glad you didn’t come over,” said Iolana. “This way I have a chance to get out of there?”

  “I thought Maro McCoort was coming to tea today.”

  “Oh, he was there. I might as well not have been though. Every time a boy comes around, my mother treats me like I’m a child. She’s such a twonk!”

  “Shh,” cautioned Willa. “My mother’s upstairs. She’s taking a nap, but her hearing borders on the magical when anyone says a bad word in the house. Let’s go out back and sit in the garden.”

  She led the way through the parlor and dining room and out the back door into the small but beautiful garden. The same stonework that formed the walkway out front was here arranged in the lawn into a very large compass rose. Upon this sat half a dozen white metal chairs and a small table. Around the edge of the garden, the roses were in full bloom. Huge butterflies flew between them and large dragonflies buzzed here and there. Willa pointed to a chair for her two guests, who sat down.

  “Do you want a drink? We have Major Gortner’s.”

  “No, I’m fine,” said Iolana. Then she turned to look at Esther. “Well, answer her.”

  “No,” said Esther, rolling her yellow eyes.

  “I missed you on the Sabbath,” said Willa.

  “Auntie Yuah didn’t feel well enough to go to shrine, and if she wasn’t going to go, then I certainly wasn’t. No offense, but it really is horribly boring.”

  “Yes, of course it is. But I have to go. I had no one to pass notes to. I had to sit there and babysit Senta Markham the entire time, and had no friend to distract me.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Iolana, smiling, “but not sorry enough to go to shrine without my auntie. I’m not even Zaeri, after all.”

  “I suppose I should be happy you attend at all then.”

  “Too right you should.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” said Willa. “I’m going out of my mind from boredom. All I do is clean the house, cook, and study my lessons.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Oh pooh! You’re the princess.”

  “You know as well as I do that in those fairy-tales with the princess, she always ends up locked in the castle.” Iolana sighed. “I’m ready for something.”

  “What are you ready for?”

  “I’m ready for something to happen. I want an adventure; that’s what I want.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” said Willa. “You just might get it.”

  “People always say that,” said Iolana. “But nobody is ever sorry when they have an adventure.”

  Chapter Four: The Bomb

  Chief Inspector Saba Colbshallow was dozing, only half awake, but happy in the knowledge that he had the day off. Suddenly a weight of two and a half stone dropped into his lap, curling him up into a ball. Now awake, Saba clutched at his attacker, which seemed all curly hair and giggles.

  “You must be careful with your poor old father, DeeDee,” he gasped.

  “Mummy says it’s time to get up,” returned what he still thought was the sweetest voice he had ever heard.

  “Does Mummy know that I have the day off?” He lifted the girl and held her up over his face. Two large eyes, one brown and one hazel, looked back at him from beneath a pile of multihued curls. “If you weren’t so horribly cute, I would throw you out with the rub
bish.”

  A chorus of giggles was the only reply.

  “Maybe I’ll just throw you out with the rubbish anyway!” Rolling to his feet, he tucked the now squealing child under his arm and headed for the window. “Right out to the dump with you!”

  “Saba!” Saba stopped in his tracks and turned to find his wife standing in the bedroom doorway. “I’ve only just got her hair fixed!”

  “Now you’ve gone and gotten me in trouble,” he told the little girl, setting her down beside him.

  “Your breakfast is waiting, both of you.”

  “Shouldn’t I dress first?” He waved down at his nightshirt.

  “You’re fine. It’s only the four of us.”

  “Come along, brick and mortar.”

  “You know I don’t like you using that criminal slang with the child,” said his wife as he passed. Then she stuck out her cheek and ordered, “Kiss.”

  Obediently kissing his wife, Saba followed his daughter out of the room and down the stairs to the dining room. His wife followed.

  Loana Colbshallow was one of the most beautiful women in all of Birmisia Colony. Everyone agreed on that fact, even those who didn’t particularly care for her. The features that were most often spoken of, when people described her, the heterochromia of both eyes and hair, she had passed to her daughter. In addition, she possessed flawless skin and as near perfect features as could be imagined. Of course her most noticeable traits were seldom mentioned, even if they were always noticed. God had given Loana a slender waist and a bottom that seemed to hardly require a bustle. Her bosom was of such a proportion that it could astonish and yes, even frighten those who stood too close to her. This hadn’t been the case when she and Saba had met, but each year seemed to add onto her a few pounds, and they always seemed to end up in exactly the right places.

  DeeDee was already at her seat when Saba reached the table. Directly across from her was the elder Mrs. Colbshallow, Saba’s mother.

  “Just what are you doing to make my lovely daughter-in-law yell?” she asked.

  “I remember when I was the apple of her eye,” he said dryly to DeeDee.