 
BRECHALON

By Wesley Allison

Smashwords Second Edition

Brechalon

Copyright © 2010 by Wesley Allison

Revision: 12-20-19

All Rights Reserved. This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If sold, shared, or given away it is a violation of the copyright of this work. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual people, living or dead is purely coincidental.

Cover design by Wesley Allison

Cover Image Copyright © 2015 Elisanth | Dreamstime.com

ISBN 978-1-4523-0652-0

* * * * *

For Vicki, Becky, & John

# The Sorceress and the Dragon
# Book 0

# Brechalon

# By Wesley Allison

Introduction

This book was written to provide additional information to readers of The Sorceress and the Dragon, of which The Voyage of the Minotaur is book one. It doesn't really have a plot of its own and is not intended to stand up without the other book(s). It is more along the line of background material and additional character study. The original idea was for this to be read after reading books 1-5. That being said, I think one can read it before reading books 1-5 and still appreciate it. If you are reading it as a stand-alone book, I hope you get some enjoyment from it. The second part of this volume is of as much interest to the readers of the series, as it contains an encyclopedia of place and events from those books.

To all my readers, I thank you sincerely for your investment of time and interest.

### Chapter One: The Greatest City in the World

There was no doubt about it. Brech was the greatest city in the world. Not the best—but the greatest. It was the capital of the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon and had been the center of Brech culture for almost two thousand years. Fifteen centuries ago it had been the largest city in the world and it still was. With a population of more than four million, it dwarfed Natine, Bangdorf, Szague, Perfico and the other capital cities on the continent of Sumir. The Great City, as most Brechs called their home, was filled with majestic buildings and monuments, magnificent parks, and spacious plazas. But beyond these were seemingly endless reaches of tenement apartment buildings, slapped up with none of the forethought and planning of the ancient structures of which the citizens were so proud. Though the vast system of horse-drawn trolleys and hansom cabs reminded one of the past, the oily black telegraph poles and the chugging, honking steam-powered carriages gave voice to a future bearing down at record speed.

Nothing about the Great City was lost on Captain Terrence Dechantagne. He had been back in the city for exactly one hour and fifteen minutes, but it seemed as if he had never left. As he strode down Avenue Phoenix, he looked at the shops on either side of the street, occupying the ground floor of buildings that had been old when his great-grandfather had been born. The cobblestone streets were filled with vehicles. Shiny new steam carriages swerved to avoid running over an old man pulling a donkey heavily laden with crates of produce. The trolley's bell reminding everyone else on the street that, by law, it had the right of way, even though the massive horse pulling it was far slower than the newest marvels of technology. Turning sharply to his left, Terrence crossed the road dodging neatly between a horse-drawn carriage and one of the steam-powered variety and entered one of the storefronts— _Breeding Booksellers_.

The interior of the bookseller's shop was dark and crowded and it smelled of old leather, old paper, and old glue. Terrence took a slow, deep breath, enjoying the fragrance the way some people might enjoy the scent of a rose. An old bespectacled man lifted his head from behind a massive volume of Dodson. He raised his eyebrows when he saw Terrence's blue and khaki cavalry uniform. Terrence removed his slouch hat and fished his wallet from an interior vest pocket of his tunic.

"What can I do for you, sir?" asked the bookseller.

" _Revenge_ ," said Terrence without smiling.

A momentary look of panic crossed the older man's face, but then his eyes widened.

"Garstone?"

Terrence nodded.

"Yes, I have several copies behind the counter. Not the type of thing I'd expect an army officer to be reading."

"Don't judge a book by its cover," said Terrence. "One would think that a bookseller would know that."

"Indeed." The man paused and then pulled out several different editions of the infamous work of Kazia Garstone. He looked up to study his customer's face. "So many people are interested in this one, either for its politics or its, um... indecencies."

"You don't have a first edition?" asked Terrence, his face giving nothing away.

"Oh, I do. But I'm afraid it's not inexpensive." Opening a small cupboard behind him, the bookseller pulled out a book wrapped in linen and placed it on the counter. With great care he unwrapped the cloth exposing a green leather-bound book with gold leaf edging.

"Two hundred fifty marks."

"I wonder what Garstone would say about such profiteering," said Terrence opening his wallet and pulling out five crisp banknotes that together equaled the stated amount.

"I don't think she would mind. You know, if you're interested, I might have a lead on a signed first edition of _Steam_."

"Really? How much?"

"Four thousand marks."

"Kafira's tit!" said Terrence, chuckling as the other man winced at his blasphemy. "I'm afraid that's beyond my allowance."

The man nodded knowingly. "Would you like me to wrap it up for you?"

"Nope." Terrence took the book and tucked it under his arm. "Is there still a fish and chips cart by the park?"

"Oh yes."

Terrence exited the store and turned left, heading for Hexagon Park. He had to jog across Prince Tybalt Boulevard, which was at least twice as crowded as Avenue Phoenix. He was almost hit twice but arrived at the park's edge unscathed. Hexagon Park as the name implied, was an expansive park built in the six-sided shape of a hexagon. It was filled with fountains, ponds, walkways, flower gardens, orchards, and at its center, a plaza with a steam-powered calliope. Terrence could hear the music playing even at this distance. Along the sidewalk at the edge of the park, several vendors were selling food from carts. He purchased a newsprint cone filled with fried fish and golden chips and made his way down the cobblestone path to the center of the park, taking a seat about fifty feet from the bright red music machine.

The calliope made as much music as an entire band playing. People clearly enjoyed it, though only a few were gathered to watch it. Most followed along by bobbing their heads or humming as they smelled the flowers, looked into the fountains, or strolled among the fruit trees. Terrence ate his fish and chips and propped open his new book on his knee. His attention was pulled away from the pages though by the other people and their various activities.

Directly in front of him an older man in a brown bowler was throwing bits of bread to the flying reptiles that could be found all over the old city. Disgusting things. To Terrence's mind, they should be shot rather than fed. Several small children played _Doggie Doggie_ on the open expanse of grass. Their simple homespun clothing and the fact that they were unsupervised indicated they were from poorer, working class families. Beyond them were several large groups of people wandering past the fruit trees, among them, a man in a dark brown overcoat that looked far too warm for this time of year. As Terrence watched, several people approached the man and exchanged money for small packages pulled from the expansive coat. The man was a drug dealer.

The young officer felt his eyes itch and begin to water and when he stood up to drop his garbage in the dust bin, he could feel his hands starting to twitch. He took two steps in the direction of the drug dealer. Then the man in the overcoat looked in his direction and just seemed to melt away into a crowd. Terrence was just thinking about following when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned to find a very large police constable holding onto him.

"Now, where are you off to?"

"All these people and you stop me?" Terrence wondered.

"Just keeping the peace. Someone from out of town might not recognize the fellow you were eyeing as trouble. Then again, he might. Either way, there's no reason that a fine young officer in His Majesty's service should be getting mixed up with the likes of him."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Do you have a place to stay in the city?" asked the PC, taking a small notebook and a short pencil from his pocket.

"My family has a house here."

"And where would that be?"

"Number one, Avenue Dragon."

The police constable's eyes shot from his notebook back to Terrence's face.

"That would be Miss... um, then she would be...?"

"My baby sister."

Putting his notebook away with as much nonchalance as he could muster, the PC smiled and then bowed slightly at the waist.

"If I can be of any further service." It wasn't a question, and in any case, the constable left before Terrence could reply.

Terrence studied his own hand and noted that it was no longer shaking. Might as well go home. Get it over with. Then maybe he could find a quiet corner to sit and read Garstone.

* * * * *

Seven-year-old Senta Bly lay in one of the grassy fields on the northern half of Hexagon Park and looked up at the brown haze in the air above her as she listened to the sound of the calliope and tried to catch her breath. She had spent the morning playing with her cousin, Maro McCoort, and a dozen other children from the vast sea of tenements, who met each morning at the park and played a host of childhood games. Maro, who despite being five months younger than Senta always looked out for her, nudged her and handed her half of the piece of cheese that he had that morning wrapped in a napkin and stuffed in his pocket. As she chewed it, she turned her head to the side and watched some of the other children running away.

"What's up?" she asked Maro.

"There's a wizard setting up over there," he replied.

Climbing to their feet, they ran in the direction that the other children had gone. Sure enough, a man in a brown suit but wearing a black cape had placed his bowler hat on the grass upside down, so that people could throw money in, and he was already performing his first magic. He swirled his right hand around in a circle parallel to the ground and spoke a series of magic words.

"Uuthanum Izesic." He grinned. "I give you the floating platform!"

Though it was invisible, there was a disc-shaped platform just below where he had formed the circle with his hands, and children rushed forward to sit on it. A few even tried to stand, though they were quickly pushed off by those wanting their turn. The round field of force lasted only a few minutes and then it was gone, and the wizard was on to his next trick. He charmed a woman and made her act like a chicken, and then he summoned a horse from out of thin air. He turned a boy's hair blue and he made a passing steam carriage's horn meow like a cat. His grand finale was to induce snow to fall from the hazy but relatively cloud-free sky. This earned him cheers from the children and more than a few coins in his hat from the adults, despite the snow lasting only a few minutes and none of it sticking.

"It's time to get home," Maro told Senta, as the wizard gathered his earnings.

Senta thought she saw the wizard give her a strange look as she passed, but she paid little attention. Wizards were strange folk. She raced after her cousin who shot across Avenue Phoenix, dodging in and around traffic. They ran all the way to the Great Church of the Holy Savior, which marked the edge of the Old City. Then they skipped their way through block after block of tenement buildings. At last they arrived at their own building—a fifteen story stone structure that leaned ever so slightly to the right. Tramping up the narrow stairs, they reached their Granny's apartment on the twelfth floor.

Together the two children pressed against the door, tumbling inside when Maro turned the knob. They expected to find Granny, and indeed they did, but they were surprised to find her leaning over a tiny bassinette, gooing at the contents. Near her, sitting on the floor was a toddler with very fine, very blond hair. There were already four children living with Granny—Senta and Maro, Maro's brother Geert, and their cousin Bertice. Now it appeared that there were two more.

"This is Didrika," said Granny, patting the toddler on the top of the head. "And this is her baby sister Ernst."

Senta stepped quickly across the room and stared down into the bassinette, Maro at her side. The sleeping baby inside couldn't have been more than a few weeks old. The few wisps of hair on her head were strawberry blond and the tiny bow shaped mouth was pursed, as if she was dreaming of a bottle.

"Aw, cute," said Senta.

"We're not going to have enough food," said Maro.

"We'll make do," said Granny. "But you two will have to go to work. Maro, Mr. Blackwell has secured a place for you at his printing shop. And Senta, you will work at the café in the Great Plaza."

"Who are they, anyway?" asked Maro, indicating the new children.

"They are your cousins. My boy Colin was their father. He died in the war. Now they've lost their mother to a fever."

Twenty minutes later Maro and Senta were making the long trip downstairs to the sub-basement to get a bucket of coal.

"I guess we have to grow up now," Maro said. "I don't see why those damn kids have to come here."

"Their parents are dead," Senta replied. "Just like yours and mine."

"Your parents aren't dead."

"Uh-huh. Granny said so."

"I heard your Mom just didn't want you."

"Who wouldn't want me?" said Senta. "I'm just cute."

Maro made a noncommittal noise and they continued down the stairs.

* * * * *

Iolanthe Dechantagne pursed her lips and narrowed her unique aquamarine eyes at the man in front of her, who seemed to wilt in her gaze. They were in one of the back bedrooms of the Dechantagne house at Number One, Avenue Dragon. Occupying an entire city block and sitting four stories high, the house had dozens of bedrooms, so many that Iolanthe was sure she hadn't visited them all. She had been in this one though, many times. Not recently. So many rooms made the house expensive to heat and to care for, and right now Iolanthe needed her money for things other than taking care of a too large house. She had ordered all the rooms in the back two thirds of the building closed off, the furniture covered, and the other contents sold or stored. But this room was untouched. The dust-covered furniture was still home to dust covered personal items: brush, razor, strop, journal, war medals, shotgun.

"Well?" she said, ice clinging to the consonants and a cold wind blowing through the vowel sound. The servant actually shivered.

"I didn't think you meant this room," said the man.

"And why would that be?"

"This is the master's room. I mean it was his room. I mean I thought..."

"My brother is master of this house now. And you are not paid to think." Iolanthe could feel the presence of Zeah Korlann, her head butler, just behind her right shoulder, but she didn't acknowledge him. "I said I wanted all of these rooms closed off, and that includes this one. Cover the furniture and sell the other things, and if you can't sell them, burn them."

The man nodded shakily. Iolanthe turned on her heel. Zeah was standing just far enough to the side that he wouldn't have to move if she walked directly back out of the room. He was a tall, dignified man with clear, intelligent eyes and hair that was a bit more salt than pepper. He had served the Dechantagne family since before Iolanthe was born, and his family had served them since the time of Iolanthe's great-great-grandfather. He stood completely straight, his right hand resting on the shoulder of a boy of thirteen or fourteen. Iolanthe raised one eyebrow.

"Um." Zeah cleared his throat. "Young Saba here needs to be assigned a position in the house."

"He is engaged in his studies, yes? I believe I pay for a tutor, do I not?"

"Yuh... yes. But Saba had his fourteenth birthday some time ago. It is time for him to work in the afternoons, after finishing with Master Lockley."

"Do you have an opinion?"

"I wuh... was thinking assistant porter."

"Very well." Iolanthe took three steps towards the door, then stopped and turned around. "What did he receive for his birthday?"

"You guh... gave him a very nice puh... puh... pair of pants."

"Perfect," she said.

"Muh... Miss?" said Zeah, leaving the boy where he was and stepping forward. He stood looking at her as if measuring whether he should continue.

"Yes?" she asked at last.

"Might you not want to keep suh... some items of a more puh... puh... personal nature?"

"Nothing of my father's is of interest to me or my brothers. He was a disgrace to the family name and the sooner I can forget about him the better. Wastrel. Coward." She pressed her lips together to say the other word. How she wanted to say it. Murderer. But the word stayed in her mouth. She stared at Zeah, daring him to ask something else.

"Yuh... yes Miss."

It took a full ten minutes to walk to the front of the house, that portion, which was in use, and once there it took far too long to reach her boudoir. She had to detour around the hallway where workmen were busy installing an elevator. It was the last of many improvements that Iolanthe had made to the house in the past two years.

Yuah was waiting in the boudoir. Yuah was Iolanthe's dressing maid, as well as being Zeah's daughter. Two years younger than Iolanthe, Yuah had grown up with her and her brothers. There was a time that Iolanthe had thought of the younger woman as a sister. Without a word, she turned and shrugged off her jacket, which Yuah caught and immediately placed on a hanger. Then she was back to unbutton Iolanthe's day dress and help her remove it. This was followed by the large rear bustle made vital by modern fashion, and then the Prudence Plus fairy bust form corset. And for the first time all day, Iolanthe was able to take a deep breath.

"I won't need you for a few hours," she said, as Yuah draped her day gown over her shoulders. "You may retire."

"Thank you, Miss."

"I'm going to write Augie. Do you want me to send him your regards?"

"Yes, Miss."

As Yuah left the room, Iolanthe sat down at the small desk in the corner and pulled out a sheet of her personal stationary and her fountain pen. In her best hand she wrote her letter.

Augie,

I read with interest your description of Birmisia. It sounds like just the type of place for our enterprise. I was especially interested in the fact that there are as yet no other parties intent on establishing a colony there. It is distant, but that may very well end up being an advantage. Terrence has put forth Cartonia as a possibility, but with your experience in Birmisia, we will have firsthand information and expertise. Continue to learn all you can. You know what we need. I don't have to tell you. In any case, I have a meeting with the Prime Minister later in the week and hope to begin negotiations.

On a personal note, Terrence arrived yesterday. He looks as well as can be expected. Yuah sends her regards. As always, return with your shield or on it.

Sincerely,

I. Dechantagne

* * * * *

Yuah Korlann arrived in the servants dining hall just a moment after her father and Saba. Half a dozen kitchen workers under the supervision of the head cook, Mrs. Colbshallow scurried around preparing for the luncheon. Mrs. Colbshallow had been the head cook since Yuah was a little girl. She was a wonder in the kitchen. She was also Saba's mother and she gave him a big squeeze as she passed by.

"There's my handsome boy," she said.

"Mother!" he whined back.

"Are you looking for something to eat, dear?" Mrs. Colbshallow asked Yuah.

"Yes, I'd better eat while I have the chance. You know how she is."

"Don't get cheeky," said her father.

"I'll get you a nice plate," the head cook replied, waving over one of the kitchen staff. "You know I think you need to put on a bit of weight. You can't catch a man if you're all skin and bones."

"Don't worry about that," said Yuah, sitting down across the table from Saba. "I'm not likely to run into a man around here, and if I did, no man is going to be interested in me."

Saba's adoring gaze, which Yuah chose to ignore, said as plainly as words that he thought he was interested, and he thought no other man worthy of the position. But it was her father who spoke.

"You're far too young to worry about a man. Why, you're barely twenty."

"I'm twenty-three, Papa. Another two years and I'll be an old maid."

"Nonsense," said Mrs. Colbshallow, setting down in front of Yuah a plate with a large sandwich atop a tremendous pile of golden chips. "You're still young and you can find a man easily enough, if um... well, are you determined that he be of your faith?"

"Of course she is," said Zeah.

"As long as he has all his parts, I don't care if he worships apple trees and sacrifices chickens when the moon is full. It's not as if I've been to shrine in years myself."

Zeah and Yuah belonged to the minority Zaeri religion, a faith that had once been the dominant belief all across Sumir, while Mrs. Colbshallow and her son, and most of the other staff were Kafirites. Kafira Kristos who had lived and died two thousand years before, had been a Zaeri Imam, but her followers had broken away from the main faith upon her death and supposed resurrection. Now millions worshipped her as the Holy Savior and the daughter of God, and those ethnic Zur who remained true to their faith and the few converts to the Zaeri religion were the subjects, in most places, of animosity, prejudice, and discrimination. At least they were in most places outside the Dechantagne home. Miss Dechantagne would brook none of that.

"Excuse me," said a voice from the doorway.

Everyone in the room turned to see Master Terrence leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. None of the staff were sure just how long he had been standing there.

"Mrs. C, could I get one of those sandwiches? I'm really not in the mood to sit through one of Iolanthe's luncheons."

Mrs. Colbshallow had the plate in his hands almost before he finished speaking, and though he hadn't asked for one, she pressed a chilly bottle of beer into his other hand.

"Thanks," he said, turning and walking out of the servant's hall. Nobody noticed Yuah giving him just the same sort of look that she had been receiving from young Saba just a few minutes before.

### Chapter Two: In Distance Places

Schwarztogrube sat atop the Isle of Winds, situated almost exactly in the center of the channel between Brechalon and Freedonia. Its massive stone walls rising high above jagged cliffs were not broken by a single door. The few windows visible were all far too small for anything approaching the size of a human being to pass through. The only entrance was through a hidden passage at the water's edge: gated, guarded, and locked. The towers rising up into the sky were topped with pointed minarets allowing no entrance from the air. The waters around the tiny island were constantly patrolled by Brech warships. Inside, Schwarztogrube was the harshest, ugliest, and most formidable prison in the world, yet few even knew of its existence.

Nils Chaplin had been a guard at Schwarztogrube for almost a whole week before he saw a prisoner. That wasn't so surprising, considering the guards outnumbered them at least ten to one. An entire wing was devoted to incarcerating only about two dozen men. The prisoners carried out their lives, such as they were, never leaving their cells, but supplied with food and a few simple comforts such as a pillow, a blanket, or a book. None of them looked particularly dangerous, and they weren't. At least they weren't while they were here. Schwarztogrube was a magic prison. A prison set aside for wizards and sorcerers—the only place in the world where magic would not work.

It was his third week and Chapman was looking forward to a week off back in Brechalon, spending his paycheck, eating fish and chips, and enjoying life outside of massive stone bocks, when another guard, Karl Drury, at last led him to the north wing. Chapman didn't like Drury. He told disgusting jokes to the other guards, viciously beat the prisoners, and when he could get away with it, he abused the boys working in the kitchen or at the dock. He also stank. But as Chapman followed Drury though the deathly cold stone halls, he wasn't thinking about the other guard's shortcomings. He was wondering at the empty cells that they passed. Finally, they came to the one door that was locked shut.

"Here we be," said Drury. "That there's the only one in the entire wing."

"Special, huh?"

"Take a butchers."

Chapman pressed his face against the small barred window. Most of the room beyond was dark, illuminated only by a square of light carried in from a four-by-four-inch window high up on the far wall. The room had no pillows or blankets as did the rooms in the south wing. There was no bed. The only thing in the cell approaching furniture was a piss pot. Curled up in a fetal position against the far wall was a human being. The dirty ragged clothing and matted hair of unknown color gave no hint to the identity of the figure.

"Who is he?" wondered Chapman.

"That's not a he. That's a she. And that's the most dangerous creature in the world, that."

"Really?"

"That's what they say. So dangerous, we're not even s'posed to be here. Ain't that right, eighty-nine?" he called to the prisoner. She didn't stir. "Lucky for us the warden's gone to the mainland, eh?"

Drury pulled out a large key and placed it in the massive lock on the door.

"Maybe we shouldn't ought to do this," said Chapman.

Drury paid no attention. He opened the door and swaggered into the cell. The woman curled up against the wall didn't move. When Drury had crossed the room to her, he nudged her with the toe of his boot.

"Get up, eighty-nine."

She remained still.

The sadistic guard grabbed a handful of the prisoner's dirty, matted hair and dragged her to her feet. Chapman could finally make out that she was a woman. She was thin. She looked half starved, but he could still tell that she had once had quite a figure. Drury held her up by her hair, presenting her for view as if she were a freshly caught trout.

Suddenly the woman came to life, kicking the guard in the shins. Drury let go of her hair and knocked her to the ground with a back-hand slap. She looked up at him and even across the poorly lit cell, Chapman could see the hatred in her cold grey eyes. She pointed her hand and spat words that might have been a curse in some ancient, unknown language.

"Uastium premba uuthanum tachthna paj tortestos—duuth."

Even here in Schwarztogrube, where no magic in the world would work, Chapman could have sworn that he felt a tingle in the air. Nothing else happened though. Drury kicked her in the face, knocking her onto her back. He kicked her again and again. And again. Finally, he grabbed her once more by the hair and lifted her to her feet. With his other hand, he began unfastening his trousers. Chapman turned and left. He didn't need to see this.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Arthur McTeague paced back and forth, from one end of the small clearing to the other. Around him grew the dense forest full of incredibly high redwoods and huge maples. Most of his platoon was gathering together brush to build a barrier around the spot that had been chosen as their campsite for the night. The remainder were laying out fuel, tinder, and kindling for the campfires. McTeague's fellow lieutenant, Augustus P. Dechantagne, sat on a large rock at the edge of the clearing.

"I signed up for the artillery," said McTeague. "What about you, Augie?"

"Artillery."

"Then how come we're out here in the middle of nowhere, not a cannon in sight?"

"You're lucky they let you have a rifle," said Augie as he pulled an envelope from his tunic pocket.

"What's that then?"

"Letter from my sister."

"Anything interesting at home?"

Augie handed him the letter, and he read through it quickly.

"Wow. Tender."

"Oh, she loves me in her own way."

"Anything else in the envelope?"

"Just my allowance." Augie held up a wire transfer in the amount of two thousand marks.

"Kafira! You can have quite a week on the town with that. All you can drink. Good food. Women."

"Do you see any women?" asked Augie, waving in the direction of the tall trees. "Do you see any food? I'm not even sure I can cash this when we get back to Mallontah. How likely is it that someone there will have two thousand marks lying around? I'd have been better off if she sent me a five pfennig piece taped to the inside of the envelope like my Auntie Gin used to do. It's a good thing I have two bottles of contraband in my pack."

"That's what I like about you—always prepared."

That night, the two bottles were produced, one passed around among the men and the other shared by the two lieutenants as they warmed their feet by the campfire, their heads resting on their packs. The noises of this strange forest were far different than back home. There were squawks and squeaks and, in the distance, roars. Not distant enough for McTeague's taste.

"Don't worry," said Augie. "They're more afraid of you than you are of them."

"I can attest to the fact that that is not the case."

The next morning all of the men expressed similar concerns as an entire herd of great beasts made their way through the nearby forest, heedless of the humans. The monsters were up to twelve feet tall and thirty-five feet long, though there were many smaller members of the species among them. Though their bumpy skin and thick legs put one in mind of an elephant, they walked on hind legs, only sometimes using quadrupedal locomotion. Their heads were shaped something like the head of a horse, but their long, heavy tails spoke of their reptilian origins.

"What are they called again?" wondered McTeague.

"Dinosaurs," said Augie. "All I can think of when I see them is the size of the brisket you could get."

"I doubt it would taste good."

"Our cook back home, Mrs. Colbshallow, can make anything taste good. Let's get the men together and get going. If those are the sheep in this country, I don't want to see the wolves."

The column of forty-two soldiers dressed in blue and khaki walked north, away from the dinosaurs. Though the ground was thick with rhododendrons and other small brush, there were enough game trails that overland travel was not too slow. Along the way the men saw more and more of the strange creatures, though Augie didn't know if the smaller ones were rightly dinosaurs. They had feathers and looked much more like scary birds. They marched all morning and came to their destination just after noon. It didn't look any different than a hundred other forest clearings except that this clearing contained the parties they were sent to meet.

Three creatures stood before the soldiers. They were all well over six feet tall and they looked far more reptilian than the dinosaurs or scary birds did, as though alligators had been given the power to stand up on their back legs and use their forelegs for hands as men did. Each had a long snout filled with peg-like teeth and a long tail, which trailed behind them, remaining just a few inches above the ground. Though they wore no clothing, their scaly bodies were painted in bizarre designs of red, black, and white. All three, as one, raised their right hands, palms outward, to the dewlaps on their throats and spoke a hissing language.

"What did they say?" asked McTeague.

"Something about a tree?" Augie replied.

"Aren't you here as the interpreter?"

Augie shrugged, and then spat out a series of hisses and gurgles of his own.

"Everything's fine—greeting, greeting, hail, hail, promise not to kill you, etc."

"Alright, tell them what I say." McTeague produced a note from his pocket and read it. "Hail to you and your chief. We come to you in peace and friendship from across the sea and bring you word from your new great chief that he now claims these lands. So that you know your new great chief means well, he has sent us with these gifts."

As Augie translated, McTeague gestured to one of the men who brought forth six small bags tied at the top. McTeague handed two to each of the reptilians, one of whom opened a bag, spilling out a handful of copper pfennigs into his hand.

"The army plans to win over the lizardmen with twelve marks worth of coins?" wondered Augie, after he had finished the reptilian tongue.

"Coins good," said one of the lizardmen in Brech. "Like coins. Not kill you."

* * * * *

Ssissiatok was returning to the village when she heard their strangely musical voices. They didn't sound like the voices of the people and they didn't sound like any of the animals in the forest. She made her way through the trees toward the sounds, carefully watching ahead as she moved through the bushes. They were easy to spot. There were many of them and they had bright blue upper bodies. They stood erect like her people, but they didn't have long thick tails to balance them. They didn't have tails at all. Then she saw that they were not alone. Tattasserott, Ssterrost, and Toss were with them. They were talking with these strange creatures. She ducked down into the bushes.

Ssissiatok was young. She had only grown tame enough to enter into a hut a few years before. Like all young ones, she had lived life as a wild animal from the time she was hatched until she had become large enough. Then a group from her hut had captured and tamed her and taught her how to be civilized. Now she lived with a group of twelve others in a large square wooden home where Toss was the elder.

She was close enough now that she could make out Toss's voice. He was saying something about trading to Ssterrost. Then he began speaking the bizarre lyrical words of the strangers. It seemed so strange to hear those sound coming from his long handsome snout. As she watched, it suddenly occurred to her that the blue and earth colors on the strangers were not their hide or feathers, but some strange material that they had clothed their bodies in. It made sense to her. They wore it like her people wore their paint.

Suddenly one of the strangers called out in a warbling cry. Many of the others took it up as well. Glancing quickly to the Toss and the others, she could tell by their posture that they were as startled as she was. The one that had started the warbling was showing his teeth. She saw Toss relax. She remembered what he had told her. They showed their teeth when they were pleased.

The elder had spent many evenings telling her and the others about when the strangers had come before. They had come and gone when Toss was young, and now, they were back. Most people thought they would leave again just like they had before but Toss thought that they might stay this time. Ssissiatok wondered what they would do if they stayed. Would they build villages like her people? Would they trade with them? Would they fight?

The one that had first made the strange warbling stepped away from the others. He walked directly toward her, stopping about six feet away to lean on the trunk of a maple tree. He was looking around at the trees and flowering plants. Ssissiatok remained very still. It didn't seem possible, but he didn't see her. She was right there. Was it even a male? Ssissiatok didn't know for sure. He opened the lower part of his clothing and urinated on the trunk of the tree. Ssissiatok leaned over to get a better look.

Suddenly, the stranger caught her out of the corner of his eye and jumped, letting out a shout and a series of melodic words. He fastened his clothing shut and wiped his hands on the leaves of a handy bush. Then he called over to the others in words, most of which Ssissiatok could understand.

"Ssterrost, is this one of yours? I thought I was about to get my blah blah bit off."

Ssterrost came quickly over and it was clear from his posture that he was not happy.

"Ssissiatok, get back to the village! You are not supposed to be here. If I catch you where you're not supposed to be again, I'll bite your tail off."

Ssissiatok hunkered down to make herself look smaller and turned toward the village, hurrying through the forest. Behind her she could hear the stranger. He was once again making the strange warbling cry.

* * * * *

This was another part of the city that Terrence Dechantagne knew well. It was known to the rest of the city as The Bottom and to those who lived there as Blackbottom. It was a section of the town built on land sloping down toward the River Thiss and it seemed as if it was perpetually falling into the green waters. Besides thousands of two- and three-story houses that all seemed to be either leaning toward the river because of the sloping land or leaning in the other direction in hopes of countering the slope, there were countless seedy pubs, sordid meeting houses, and hidden drug dens.

Terrence drove his sister's steam carriage down Contico Boulevard, past the ancient stone buildings of the Old City and past the sea of tenement apartments, turning off into the dark and winding roads of Blackbottom. His vehicle was the only powered one on the road here. Foot traffic predominated, though there were quite a few horses, either pulling carriages or being ridden. There were enough of them that there was a two-foot-tall embankment of horse manure that ran down either side of the road. Flies filled the air almost as thickly as did the stench.

Following a series of alleys that would have confused anyone not intimately familiar with the area, Terrence brought the vehicle to a stop in front of a nondescript house. He peeled off his driving gloves and tossed them onto the seat next to him, and then he climbed down. The only light came from the dim headlamps and the tiny sliver of moon, but Terrence didn't need either to detect the three men coming toward him from the shadows between two houses on the other side of the street. The foremost had a knife. The second carried a cricket bat. The third one was a big man. He didn't seem to have a weapon; probably thought he didn't need one.

"Hey blue coat. You can't park here unless you pay the..." The man stopped talking when Terrence shoved the barrel of his .45 into the man's mouth.

"You're not going to talk to me anymore," said Terrence. He looked at the other two. "Either one of you talk?"

"Put that away," said the second man.

"I'm not taking orders right now either. This fellow a friend of yours?"

"My brother."

"Then I take it you don't want me to splatter his brains across the street."

"You won't. People like you follow the law."

"People like me are the law," said Terrence. "Your brother and I are going inside. When we come out again, I'll pay your toll or whatever you want to call it. But. Anybody touches my car, bothers me, or brasses me off in any way, and I make you a little closer to being an only child."

Terrence guided the man, still sucking on the barrel of his pistol and now walking backwards, around the car and to the door of the building. He rapped the door three times and it opened an inch.

"I'm here to see Blackwood," said Terrence.

The door opened and Terrence pushed himself and his unwilling companion through. Inside was a large dark room. The fellow who had let them in turned out to be at least as large as the muscle in the street. He loomed over both of them and most people would have been intimidated. There was no furniture in the room and the dozen or so people there in various states of unconsciousness were sprawled out across the floor.

"I'm here to see Blackwood," said Terrence again.

"Nobody sees him unless I say they do," said the big man, his deep voice just as menacing as his physical presence.

"'Salright, Teddy. Dechantagne's an old friend."

Blackwood came down the stairs at the far end of the room. He was a small man with a head of thick, curly, red hair and a cigar clenched in the corner of his mouth. His appearance and his attitude reminded Terrence of a bantam rooster.

"D'ja bring a friend with you, Dechantagne?" he asked in his thick brogue.

"A fellow I picked up on the street."

"Would'ja mind lettin'm go?"

Terrence pulled the barrel of his .45 from the man's mouth, and after wiping it on the fellow's shirt, he tucked it back into his belt.

"You're dead mister."

"Shut your damn mouth, Mika. Don't go thinkin' that because Dechantagne here is a pretty boy he won't kill you dead. He will. On the other hand, if you give him any trouble, I'll kill you and your whole family."

The man—Mika went white.

"Now get on outa' here."

"Thanks," said Terrence blandly, after the other man had hurried out the door.

"You know I'm not sentimental, Dechantagne. You're just worth a lot more alive to me than he is. That changes; you'll be the first to know. Now what can I do for you, as if I didn't know."

"Ten bottles."

"Ten bottles? Kafira, you're gon'ta kill yourself." Blackwood chuckled. "It's still a hundred a bottle."

Terrence growled but nodded.

"I know you can get if for half that out in the wilderness from some savage in a loin-cloth, but this is the good stuff, ya know."

Terrence pulled a roll of bills from his tunic and peeled off a thousand marks. It was about a third of his pocket cash. He shoved it into Blackwood's hand.

"Ya know I've got other products—things that will actually make you feel good. Ya might want ta give them a try sometime."

"Just get the spice."

"I'll be down in a minute."

Blackwood headed up the stairs in the back, while his muscle took his position once again at the door. Suddenly Terrence felt a tugging at his pants leg. Looking down he found a pale-faced man with bloodshot eyes looking up. He couldn't have been more than thirty, but he looked far older than that.

"I see a castle," said the man. "She's in a castle. What do you see? Is she in a castle for you?"

Terrence kicked the hands free of this clothing. The man looked up resentfully.

"You don't see a castle, do you? You live in a castle here. You don't need to see a castle there. She probably comes to you in a shack in the middle of nowhere."

"Bugger off," said Terrence.

"You see the purple flowers though, don't you? You see those."

Blackwood returned with a small wooden box, which Terrence opened. Inside were ten tiny cylindrical bottles, made of dark indigo glass. Each was filled with a milky white liquid and topped with a cork stopper. There it was—White Opthalium. Visio as it was sometimes called, or See Spice, was made from rare enchanted lotus blossoms and blue fungus from Southern Enclep, whipped together with magic. Just looking at it made Terrence's mouth and eyes water.

"Ya sure there's nothin' else?"

Terrence shook his head and left. The street punks were gone, though he hardly noticed. His attention was fixed only on the small box now in his possession. It was a quick drive back to the Old City and back to Avenue Dragon. He parked the car in the motor shed but walked around to the west side of the house and went in through an almost never used entrance. This was part of the house that Iolanthe had closed off. He found a bedroom and locked himself in. Then he pulled aside the drop cloth that covered the bed and sat down with his back against the headboard. Opening the box, he pulled out one of the small indigo bottles and pulled off the stopper. He could just detect its florid smell.

Placing a finger on the tiny open mouth, he overturned the bottle to moisten his finger with the milky white liquid inside. Then he reached up and rubbed it directly onto his left eyeball and then his right, quickly recapping the bottle and tossing it next to him on the bed as the room around him suddenly drained of color. He was seeing it.

No longer on the bed in an unused bedroom in the house at Number One, Avenue Dragon, he was now sitting in the middle of a great field of purple flowers that stretched into the distance as far as the eye could see. Each flower was a foot tall, with a blossom as big around as his hand, with five purple petals, dark purple along the edge merging with the same indigo as the little blue bottle in the middle. Each flower featured, in its center, a very human looking eyeball. Terrence stood up and turned around. Twenty yards away was a small yellow cottage, with a green roof and door and two windows with green shutters. And beyond, the field of purple flowers stretched away to the horizon.

# Chapter Three: Life in the City of Brech

Iolanthe Dechantagne sat in her parlor and sipped her tea. Across the table her guest mirrored her activity. He was a tall sandy-haired man with deep-set, intelligent, blue eyes. His pin-striped suit was carefully tailored, and his paper collar was tight around his neck. As he sipped his tea, he nodded appreciatively.

"Very nice. An Enclepian blend, if I'm not mistaken."

"You are quite right, Professor Calliere," said Iolanthe, her aquamarine eyes sparkling. "Not many people can pick it out so easily."

"Well, I've made more than a few trips to Nutooka. Collecting specimens for the university, you know."

"How is your work going?" Iolanthe didn't need to feign interest. She found all knowledge interesting and it usually proved valuable as well.

"Oh, zoology is nothing but a hobby of mine." Professor Calliere set down his teacup and leaned forward. "Not that I haven't made a few interesting discoveries. But no, my real work is in the mechanical engineering lab. I just filed a patent on a very important invention, and I expect to be able to live quite comfortably off the proceeds for the rest of my life."

"You won't stop your work?" asked Iolanthe with one arched brow.

"Of course not, but this will allow me to concentrate on my next project without having to worry about day to day finances. Money is so... bourgeois."

"Careful now Mr. Calliere. People will think you are a socialist."

He chuckled. "Of course not. I just prefer to have somebody else deal with the tiresomeness of money."

"So, what was this very important invention?"

"Brakes. Brakes for trains."

"Don't trains already have brakes?" wondered Iolanthe. "It seems that all the trains I've ridden on did eventually stop."

"Yes, but the old brakes must be worked manually. My brakes are pneumatic, which is to say, they work on air power. They will be much safer and will allow trains to operate with a single brakeman instead of several. Best of all, engineers won't have to start stopping so soon, so travel speeds will actually increase."

"Professor Calliere, you amaze me. Brakes that actually make a train travel faster?" Iolanthe set down her own teacup and reached for a tiny cress sandwich. "Try one of these."

"My next project is far more advanced," Calliere paused to bite into the sandwich, "mechanically speaking, I mean. I already have my assistant, Mr. Murty, doing the groundwork."

"Oh? And just what is it?"

"It's a calculating machine. It's actually an expansion of a device I built several years ago. This one will be far more complex."

"What exactly do you mean, 'a calculating machine'?" asked Iolanthe.

"Just that. It will be a machine, steam powered of course, which adds and subtracts, multiplies and divides large numbers, both large in the sense of being very big numbers and large in the sense of there being a great many of them. It will calculate and it will do it hundreds of times faster than a human being. It will be a marvelous test of mechanics."

"It will be more than a mechanical test," said Iolanthe. "I can imagine that there will be quite a few applications for such a device."'

"Really? Like what?"

"Well for one thing, you could calculate artillery trajectories, taking into account force and angle and such."

"My dear Miss Dechantagne, I had no idea you were so well versed in the art of artillery."

"My brother is an artillery officer."

"Indeed. And may I say how attractive it is to see a woman who has such a keen intellect beyond the usual fields of art, music, and literature."

"You may," said Iolanthe.

Calliere looked toward the ceiling and stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Yes. Charts. Tables. Artillery. Latitude and longitude. Train schedules. Surveying. Yes, this bears thinking about. I need someone to create a mechanical language. I may know just the person..."

"Professor?"

"Hmm? Yes?"

"This machine will be quite expensive, will it not?"

"I will need a bit of capital for the work. I was going to go to the University for the funds."

"No need." Iolanthe smiled and poured more tea into the man's cup. "I will finance it for you."

* * * * *

"What do you think of him then?" asked Mrs. Colbshallow. "He is tall."

"Yes, he is tall," replied Yuah, looking down the hallway toward the parlor.

"You don't like him?"

"I didn't say I didn't like him. He is rather queer though, isn't he?"

"I don't think he is."

"Well, I guess I don't mean that he is," Yuah explained, turning around. "But is that the type of man you imagined she would go for? I always thought she would be trying to land a sturdy war hero type."

"That's your type, dear, not hers."

"Don't be thick, Mrs. C. I don't have a type."

"Whatever you say." Mrs. Colbshallow returned to the kitchen and gave the tea tray one more check before sending it off to the parlor with Tilda, the downstairs maid. "You might as well sit down. She'll be busy with him for another half hour at least."

"I still don't see the attraction," said Yuah.

"Not that you have a type."

"Not that I have a type," Yuah sat down.

At that moment, Zeah entered the servant's hall carrying the mail.

"You have a letter from Mrs. Godwin, Mrs. C," he said.

"Bless her heart," said Mrs. Colbshallow. "Poor Mrs. Godwin, running around that great country estate, practically all alone now that Miss Dechantagne and the boys have moved away. I would be going half wobbly if it was me."

"I wouldn't mind a bit of peace and quiet, I can tell you that," said Yuah. "It's all Yuah fetch me this, and Yuah put that away, and Yuah I need you for something."

"Yuah," called a stern voice from the doorway. Everyone in the room jumped and hastily attempted to look busy. Nobody needed to look to see that it was Miss Dechantagne who spoke. Then in a low purr, she said, "Yuah, I need you for something."

Mrs. Colbshallow, who was facing away from the mistress of the house, rolled her eyes as Yuah passed.

* * * * *

Senta didn't mind working at Café Carlo in the Great Plaza. For the most part it was great fun watching people. Horse drawn trolleys loaded with passengers, passed every three minutes. Most of the men wore suits, though a few of them were dressed as laborers. The ladies were dressed nicely, and wore huge bustles that made their rear ends stick out two feet behind them. Some people rode by in horse drawn carriages. There were also many, many pedestrians. The most interesting travelers though, were those riding in steam-powered carriages, which spewed smoke and hissed steam.

The bad part about working at Café Carlo was that Carlo, the chubby proprietor of the establishment, treated her like an idiot. She was young, but she wasn't stupid. He handed her a huge push-broom and told her "sweep," as if she didn't know what a broom was for. Senta swept the walkway all around the café, starting on the far right and sweeping left one day and then on the next day, starting left and working her way right. It usually took her an hour and a half to sweep along the entire breadth of the café. Then she took the enormous broom around the building to the janitorial closet in back—the one that could only be reached from the outside, and she would put it away. Then Carlo would hand her a bucket of warm soapy water and a bristle brush and say "clean," as if she didn't know what a bucket of warm soapy water and a bristle brush were for.

The wrought iron railing that encircled the café was covered with soot. Everything in the entire city was covered in soot. The soot came from the smokestacks of the factories that lined the waterfront. It came from the trains that rolled through the city to the great station four blocks north of the plaza. It came from the steam-powered carriages that drove about the wide streets of the city. It was a good thing too. Now Senta and other children would be able to earn enough money cleaning that soot to pay their keep.

Senta started scrubbing the wrought iron railing, starting on the side opposite that on which she had started sweeping, so that if she swept from left to right, then she cleaned soot from right to left. Soon it was cleaned, and she took the bucket of warm soapy water and bristle brush back to the janitorial closet. Then Carlo would hand her a clean cloth and a jar of polish. Next she would polish the brass dragon at the entrance to Café Carlo. It was about three feet long, including its serpentine tail, and about four feet wide, its wings outstretched. It sat on a stone plinth, so that it could just about look Senta in the face. She took great care to polish the entire body. While she did, she talked to the little statue.

"It's all quite funny when you think about it," she told the dragon. "Granny has to take care of all of us kids. We just have young people and old people and nobody in the middle. Why do you think that is?"

The dragon, completely unmoving, professed no opinion.

"What do you think about the steam carriages," she asked it. "I bet you could breathe enough fire to make one of them go, couldn't you?"

Once she had finished polishing the brass dragon, she hurried home. The fact that a six-year-old crossed the length of the city, through busy traffic and alone, raised no eyebrows. She was just one more of the endless supply of ragamuffins that was one of Brech's greatest resources. Though tired, she managed her way up the twelve flights of stairs to Granny's apartment without too much difficulty.

When Senta entered her home, she didn't find the warm, pleasant atmosphere that she was used to. Fifteen-year-old Bertice, who was usually at work this time of day, was home, and she and Granny stood in the front room holding each other. They both had faces red from crying. Ten-year-old Geert sat on the beat-up old couch, and though he hadn't been crying, he looked as though he wanted to.

"What's the matter?" asked Senta.

Granny raised a hand, silently inviting Senta to her side, and then pulled her close.

"There has been an accident at the print shop. Maro was hurt."

"Where is he?"

"He's in on Granny's bed, dear. Why don't you go in? I know he'd love to see you."

Senta walked into the only other room in the apartment, the kitchen and living room being for all practical purposes a single one. Propped up in the center of the bed was Maro. Though his eyes were closed, it was obvious that he was awake. He was gritting his teeth and tears were squeezing out from the corners of his eyes. His right hand was wrapped up in bandages so completely that it looked to be three times its size. On a crate next to the right side of the bed was a large brown bottle of laudanum. Stepping over near it, Senta reached out and touched the boy's left arm.

Maro started and opened his eyes. They were red from crying.

"My fingers got cut off," he said.

"All of 'em?"

"No, just two."

"One of them wasn't your thumb, was it?"

"No. It was the end two."

Senta nodded. Then she climbed up into the bed beside her cousin and wrapped her long skinny arms around him.

"I bet it hurts."

"Yup." He snuggled closer and leaned his head on her shoulder.

"Maybe you won't have to work at the print shop anymore now," Senta offered.

"The print shop is ace. It's my fault I stuck my fingers in the press. I hope they don't give the job away..."

Anything else Maro had to say was lost, as he was finally carried away by drug induced slumber.

* * * * *

Running Miss Dechantagne's errands around the city was not something that Zeah Korlann minded. It was his chance to get out of the house and get some fresh air. It was his chance to be away from the ever-present expectations of others. It was his chance to be anonymous. Today he was headed to the millinery shop for his mistress and then to the employment office for the house.

Just down the street from the house was the trolley stop. The massive brown mare, which pulled the trolley, turned one large brown eye toward him as he passed her and stepped up onto the running board and then into the car. As he dug a pfennig out of his pocket to drop in the glass money container, the driver looked at him and gave him a friendly nod. He took a seat near the middle of the carriage and folded his hands in his lap as he waited for the horse to start on its way. There were only four other people on the trolley—two older women that Zeah vaguely recognized as servants from a house down the street, a young soldier with red hair, and an odd-looking man in a brown bowler with a long nose and thick whiskers.

Zeah's attention was immediately drawn to the newspaper being read by the soldier. The young man was reading page two, leaving the headline staring the butler in the face. The two-inch-high block letters proclaimed, "Dragon Over Brechalon."

"I didn't think there were any dragons left in the world," Zeah said to himself. "At least not in Sumir."

"There are a few," said the odd-looking man.

"They say it's old Voindrazius," said the soldier, peering over his paper. "They used to see him all the time in Freedonia... in the old days. A hundred years or so ago."

"It's not Voindrazius," said the odd-looking man. "It says very clearly that the dragon seen over Brechalon had metallic scales—some said golden scales. Voindrazius was a red dragon."

Zeah didn't see how the man could have read the soldier's paper from his seat, and he didn't have his own. He must have read it earlier in the day.

"I hope it doesn't cause any damage," said Zeah.

"I'm sure it won't. Dragons once ruled this continent, but those few who are left, just want to be left alone. You're Zaeri, are you not?"

Zeah shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yes."

"Then you should know from the scriptures—The Old Prophets chapter twenty-six, verse three."

"Fear neither dragon nor storm," quoted Zeah. "Well, I still fear storms too."

"How about eclipses?"

"Eclipses?"

"Yes, there's an eclipse the fourth of next month."

"No, I guess I'm fine with eclipses."

When Zeah stepped off the trolley, he found himself on Avenue Peacock. Like Avenue Phoenix, both sides of the street were lined with stores. But unlike Avenue Phoenix, here none of the stores looked like stores. There were no large windows showing off the wares that each establishment sold. They looked more like banks or discreet gentlemen's clubs. That made sense, because like those places, these stores were for people with a great deal of money. The stores were labeled, but they were labeled with small letters just to the right of the doorways, rather than large signs above them. Zeah headed for one of the closer buildings, one marked Admeta March, milliner.

There was no bell above the door, like any store that Zeah would have shopped in. Inside, it didn't look like a store at all. There was a couch and there were several chairs, a coffee table and two end tables with lamps—all made of very dark wood and a material of the most horrendous shade of pink. Zeah had been here before and knew just what to do. He sat down. After a few minutes, a thin pinch-faced woman wearing a dress the same horrendous shade of pink came in through a closed door of the same very dark wood.

"May I help you?"

"I'm here to pick up a hat for Miss Dechantagne."

The woman nodded and left. Zeah sat back down and waited for what seemed an inordinate amount of time to get a hat, but at last she returned. She had a box, a hatbox naturally, but it had not yet been tied shut with the usual bow.

"Would you care to see it?" the woman asked, opening the lid.

"Um, no." Zeah turned and stared at the horrendous pink wallpaper.

The woman shrugged and went back out through the door. Zeah had never looked at any article of clothing that he had picked up for Miss Dechantagne, and he wasn't about to start looking now. It wasn't that there would be any impropriety. It was simply that, as Zeah's luck ran, there would be something wrong with the hat. Not having much in the way of fashion sense of course, Zeah would have no idea that there was anything wrong, and even if he did, he wouldn't know what that something was. When Miss Dechantagne found the flaw in the apparel, she would ask Zeah if he knew anything about it, and he wouldn't be able to say that there was no way that he could know anything about it because he had never seen the article in question before. He had seen it. All in all, it was better if he didn't.

Taking another trolley, one that had many passengers though none of them soldiers and none of them odd looking men in brown bowlers, Zeah arrived at Avenue Boar near the banking district. The Prescott Agency was here, occupying the same columned, white building that they had occupied for more than fifty years. It was the job of the Prescott Agency to place top quality servants in the wealthiest and most important of Greater Brechalon's homes. Zeah was at least as well versed in the protocol here as he was in the millinery shop. He walked up to the second floor to Mrs. Villers' desk and told her what he needed.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," said Mrs. Villers.

"Wha... what?"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Wha...why not? You don't have anyone to place?"

"Oh, no. It's not that. We have people to place, but you want someone with experience."

"Yes."

"Well, how can I put this? None of the experienced people want to work for her. They've all heard the stories."

"The stories are, um... well, not exaggerated exactly... but still."

"I understand," said Mrs. Villers. "You are the head butler and I would be shocked if you spoke ill of your house. I certainly wouldn't want you to. But you see my dilemma. I have several very promising looking newcomers."

"Um." Zeah stopped and examined the ceiling for a moment. "Yes. Send them around."

He looked back at Mrs. Villers.

"Mr. Korlann?"

"Yes?"

"Was there anything else?"

"Um... no." Zeah turned and headed for the stairs that led him down to the first floor and out onto Avenue Boar. All in all, he thought it might have been better if there had been a flaw in the hat.

# Chapter Four: Memories

Nils Chapman looked through the small window in the armored door at Prisoner 89. The warden was once again away from the island and Chapman was happy to note that Karl Drury was gone as well. Chapman had spent the previous weeks trying to find out anything he could about the lone occupant of Schwarztogrube's north wing. He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to find out all he could about her. The prison didn't have any open records and asking the warden would have invited dismissal, so he had quizzed the other guards and the south wing prisoners. From the former, he hadn't gotten much—only that she was an extremely dangerous, extremely powerful magic-user. From one of the latter though he had gotten a name—Zurfina.

"Zurfina," he called out. "Is that your name? Is that who you are?"

Slowly, very slowly, the head came up until he could see the two grey eyes peering from between the strands of dirty, blond hair, like the eyes of a tiger looking out of the jungle—filled with hatred.

"Are you Zurfina?"

Slowly the fire in the eyes died, and they turned glassy. Then the head dropped back down. Though he called to her several more times, Prisoner 89 gave no more indication that she heard or understood. Eventually he gave up and made his way back to the south wing, so he didn't hear the words that came from the cracked lips.

"One thousand nine hundred sixty-eight days. One thousand nine hundred sixty-eight days. One thousand nine ..."

* * * * *

One thousand nine hundred sixty-eight days before, Zurfina the Magnificent had been moving through the throngs of people in Marcourt Station. She was not dressed as the other women in the station, or anywhere else in the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon. High-heeled leather boots and leather pants matched the spiked leather collar around her neck and the fingerless black leather gloves on her hands. The black leather corset, worn as a shirt, left her white shoulders bare as it did the two-inch star tattoo above each breast. No one noticed the bizarrely clad figure though. Zurfina was a master of obfuscation. To everyone else at the station, she seemed nothing but a nondescript brunette in a brown dress with an appropriately large bustle. To almost everyone else.

Zurfina had her ticket on the B511 out of Brech to Flander on the southern coast, where she had already arranged to meet a boat that would take her to a ship bound for Mirsanna. There was no way that she could stay in Brechalon any longer. The government had refused to accept her independence. They would have her join the military or they would see her destroyed. They had already sent a dozen wizards and two sorcerers against her. But Zurfina was the greatest practitioner of sorcery in the Kingdom and was more than a match for any wizard.

A man in a brown suit stepped out from behind a pillar. To the other people in the station, he seemed nothing out of the ordinary, but to Zurfina he glowed bright yellow and was surrounded by a sparkling halo. She didn't wait for him to cast a spell. She pointed her hand toward him and spat out an incantation.

"Intior uuthanum err."

Immediately the man doubled over, wracked with uncontrollable cackling laughter. But before Zurfina could smile appreciatively, she was thrown from her feet as the world around her exploded in flames. She had been hit in the back by a fireball, and only the fact that she had previously shielded herself prevented her from becoming a human candle, as four or five innocent bystanders around her now did. Rolling to her feet and turning around, she found that she faced not one, but four wizards. The one who had evidently cast the fireball was preparing another spell, while the other three were casting their own. Her shield protected her from the lightning bolt, and the attempt to charm her, but one of the four magical missiles hit her, burning her shoulder as though it had been dipped in lava.

"Uuthanum uastus corakathum paj—prestus uuthanum." Zurfina ducked into a side alcove as one of the wizards turned to stone and her own shield was replenished. Several more magical bolts struck the stone wall across from her, creating small burnt holes. Peering quickly around the corner, she saw the four wizards just where she left them, the three trying to use their petrified comrade as cover. Looking in the other direction, she saw that the wizard cursed with laughter had recovered and he had been joined by two more.

Seven wizards—well, six. That was a lot of magical firepower. But then Zurfina looked across the station platform. Directly opposite her was the open door of a train; not the B511, but a train bound for somewhere else. If she could reach it, she could get away. She glanced quickly around the corner again. The smell of burnt bodies mixed with thick black smoke in the air, but though there was plenty of the former, there was not enough of the latter for Zurfina's taste.

"Uuthanum," she said, and a thick fog began to fill the station platform. "Maiius uuthanum nejor paj."

The three wizards to her right suddenly faced a dog the size of a draft horse, snarling and foaming at the mouth, and they felt their spells were better aimed at it than any blond sorceress.

Turning to her left, Zurfina cast another spell. "Uuthanum uastus carakathum nit."

The cement that formed the other end of the platform turned to mud. The petrified wizard, deprived of his secure foundation toppled over onto one of his comrades, crushing him, while the other two struggled to pull themselves from the muck. Zurfina shot out of the alcove and ran toward the train. She had almost made it, when Wizard Bassington stepped into the open doorway in front of her.

She stopped right there in the open, unbalanced, unsure now whether to run left or right or back the way that she had come. She felt uncomfortably like an animal caught on the road in the headlamps of an oncoming steam carriage. Bassington didn't move. He stared at her with his beady eyes. His eyes went wide though, when Zurfina reached up to snatch something out of the air. Normal, non-magical people couldn't see them, but he could—the glamours that orbited her head were spells cast earlier, awaiting the moment when she needed them.

She crushed the glamour and pointed her hand at the spot where Bassington stood, just as he dived away. The entryway where the wizard had been, and the passenger coaches on either side of him, exploded, lifting much of the train up off the track as metal and wood shrapnel and human body parts flew in every direction. The flash knocked Zurfina herself back onto the cement and sent her sliding across the pavement and into the far wall. Before she could get up, she was hit with a dozen bolts of magical fire, some but not all of them deflected by her magic shield. It was a spell of weakening, followed by one of sleep though that finally dropped her head unconscious to the ground. The last thing she saw was Bassington's hobnail boots walking toward her. That was one thousand nine hundred sixty-eight days ago.

* * * * *

Two thousand twenty-one days ago, Zurfina ducked into her lodgings on Prince Tybalt Boulevard. She had a second-degree burn on her thigh and blood ran down her arm from a bullet wound just above her elbow. She bolted the door then staggered across the room to the dresser. Opening the top drawer, she pulled out a brown bottle of healing draught and splashed a generous amount onto, first the bullet hole, and then the burn. Finally, she took a large swig. She turned quickly, raising her hand as the door opened. But she lowered her arm again when Smedley Bassington entered.

"I locked the door," she said, taking another swig from the brown bottle.

"Are you alright?"

"A fat lot you care, you bloody bastard."

"It's not my fault," he almost whined. "I told you what would happen. It's not too late. Go with me to the Ministry of War. One word and it will be over. Everything can go back to the way it was."

"Not the way it was," she spat. "I wasn't the Ministry's lapdog before. That was you."

"Zurfina..."

"Uuthanum," she threw a quick gesture in his direction, which turned into a knife in the air.

"Uuthanum," he said, sending the knife in an arc around the room and back at her. In midair it turned into badminton shuttlecock.

"Uuthanum," she sent it back to him again, now transformed into a squirming serpent.

"Uuthanum." As it sailed at her again, the snake became a rose.

Zurfina snatched it from the air and winced as the long, pointed thorns bit her hand. "Son of a bitch!"

"You can't get away," said Bassington.

"No?" Zurfina gestured and was gone, leaving the wizard alone in the room.

That was two thousand twenty-one days ago.

* * * * *

Two thousand nine hundred and seven days ago, Zurfina reclined across the park bench and took a deep breath, savoring the smell of the white rose that Smedley held to her nose. She shifted slightly, nestling her head more comfortably in his lap. A light breeze was whipping around her as she looked up into the sky. She could see clouds floating by at a surprisingly quick pace.

"You haven't given me an answer," said Smedley.

"An answer to what?"

"An answer to the most important question in my life."

"And what might that question be?"

"Infuriating woman," Smedley snapped. "You know what question. You haven't yet told me whether you'll marry me. In antediluvian times, I'd simply have hit you over the head with a club and pulled you by the hair back to my cave."

"Yes, well." Zurfina's charcoal-lined, grey eyes slowly rose to meet his. "Then I would wait until you were asleep and slice your throat with my stone knife."

A slight shiver ran through Smedley's body that made her smile, but he didn't look away.

"So?"

"So what?" she purred.

"Will you marry me?"

"I believe I will have you. Yes."

"Thank you," he beamed. "You've made me the happiest man in Brech."

"Not yet, but soon." she replied, reaching under her head and stroking the crotch of his trousers. "After all, just because I must wait to have you, doesn't mean that you must wait to have me."

"What a tart."

That was two thousand nine hundred and seven days ago.

* * * * *

"One thousand nine hundred sixty-eight days. One thousand nine hundred sixty-eight days." Zurfina pressed her face against the cold stone of the cell. "Bloody bastard."

* * * * *

Terrence had no idea what day it was. At least he knew it was Pentuary. Oh, yes. He knew that. It was starting to get hot and nobody wanted to spend their days indoors. That was where he had spent most of the last week though; holed up in the back part of the house "seeing." During that time, he'd had very little food and almost no real sleep. He looked at the collection of tiny bottles in the wooden case. He had already finished one and all but finished another. He tucked the box under the bed and left the room, carefully locking the door behind him. The empty hallway and the stuffy air gave him a strange sense of déjà vu.

* * * * *

It had been Pentuary too when it happened, sixteen years before. Iolanthe, Augie, Yuah, and Dorah were sitting in a circle on the floor around Master Akalos, who was making them recite the names of the books in the Modest Scriptures. That two of them were the children of aristocrats and two were the children of servants made no difference to Master Akalos. That three of them were Kafirites and one of them was a Zaeri did, and the tutor gained a perverse delight in drilling them on the set of scriptures that the Zaeri did not believe in. Terrence, who was watching from beyond the door, could see the queer laughter hiding behind the man's eyes. Both twelve-year-olds, Terrence and Enoch, had finished their lessons for the day. Enoch had hurried off to his chores in the stable, while Terrence had made himself a sandwich.

He leaned against the doorframe and took a bite. From this location he could see both the other children at their studies through the door and the carriage sitting in front of the house through the open window. His mother's friend, Simon Mudgett, was visiting again. His carriage was out front, the horses still harnessed. He squeezed the last two or three bites together into his mouth.

" _Julien, Wind, March, Magic, Raina, Egeria, Dallarians, Zaeri_ ..." the four children recited, almost together. Iolanthe missed _Raina_ and went right from _Magic_ to _Egeria_. Yuah was determined to recite the loudest. Augie was moving his mouth without actually saying anything at all. All of them were casting envious glances at the scant breeze blowing in through the window.

Then Terrence saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. It was his father down the hallway. Quickly heading down the hall after him, Terrence saw the shotgun in his father's hand. This was a great opportunity. Terrence liked shooting as much as any boy. But his father was going the wrong way. He was headed up the stairs. Had he already been shooting? Was he going to clean his shotgun now?

Terrence followed, now just a few feet behind his father, and as the elder Dechantagne opened the door to his wife's bedroom, Terrence followed right on in. Then it was as if everything was in slow motion. Terrence's mother was in bed, the bedclothes covering only the bottom half of her naked body. Next to her was Simon Mudgett.

With agonizing slowness, Lucius Dechantagne raised the shotgun to his shoulder and fired. A red spray blossomed from the bare chest of Iphigenia Dechantagne, covering the bed in blood. A second shotgun blast hit the bed just to her left, but Mudgett was already on the floor running for the window. The snap of the shotgun being opened was drowned out by the crash as he broke the glass from the already open pane, crashing through and falling naked and bloodied from the sloped roof to the grounds below. Terrence's father snapped the weapon shut again, having replaced the two shells. He walked to the window, only to find nothing to shoot at. He turned around to find his wife, her mouth and eyes wide open as she gurgled a few last dying breaths, and his twelve-year-old son, his face gone white, staring at each other. He shot his wife once more in the chest, turned and gave the boy a long look, and then turned back and shot her in the head, leaving a corpse that no longer at all resembled a human being.

* * * * *

Terrence walked into the parlor to find it surprisingly cool. Iolanthe was there sipping an iced beverage. The outside of the tall glass was covered with beads of condensation. She looked up casually but narrowed her eyes at his appearance.

"What have you been doing?" she asked.

"What are you drinking?"

"Iced tea."

"Really? Is it any good?"

"Very refreshing. Would you like one?"

He nodded, taking a nearby chair, and she waved to a servant standing in the doorway, who then hurried off after the drink.

"What have you been doing, I ask again?"

"Reminiscing."

"I have been as well." She gestured to the family scrapbook on the divan next to her.

"You should burn that."

"We can't do that. But you are right, dear brother. We should stop looking to the past. Our future begins now."

"If you say so, Iolanthe."

* * * * *

Minutes before her brother had arrived in the parlor, Iolanthe had indeed been thinking over the past. It was not the same tragedy that Terrence had been reliving though. She knew that Terrence carried a scar from the murder of their mother, though she didn't quite understand exactly what it was or how deep it cut. She had her own, more recent scars—scars scarcely ten years old.

Iolanthe had continued to live in her father's house near Shopton, long after her brothers had gone away to military school. By her seventeenth year she had grown into a strikingly beautiful young lady. Not one to stay in the brooding mansion, she spent her days happily riding across the countryside. It was here that she met a young man named Jolon Bendrin. At first, she found him attractive. He certainly found her so. They met several times and talked, and she enjoyed his company.

Then one day, he changed. They both attended a party at the Banner residence. Afterwards they had walked in the garden. Nothing seemed strange. When he kissed her, she had let him. But then he forced her down onto a stone bench and reached under her dress. She only realized the danger of her situation when he put his hand over her mouth. He raped her. Then week after week, he did it again. She tried to avoid him, but she couldn't. He seemed to be everywhere. What could she do? She wasn't strong enough to fight him off, and there was no male protector for her—her father was in a drunken stupor and her brothers were both away. And who else could she tell, without disgracing herself? When she turned eighteen, she left Mont Dechantagne, moving to Brech City, and leaving her father to waste away by himself, until rife with disease, he too moved to the city.

* * * * *

Iolanthe took another sip of iced tea and looked at her brother sitting across from her. No, there was no point in living in the past. One must look toward the future. There was a great deal to do. But there was always the possibility that Jolon Bendrin might come to Brech City. What would she do then?

# Chapter Five: Putting Plans in Motion

Yuah knelt down and used the buttonhook to fasten the twenty-eight buttons on each of Iolanthe's shoes. As she fastened the last button, Yuah had to smile appreciatively. These shoes cost more than she made in a year, but unlike most wealthy aristocratic women, Iolanthe paid a premium not because the shoes were encrusted with jewels, but because they were exceptionally well made, and they were very comfortable.

"What are you smiling at?" demanded Iolanthe.

"Nothing, Miss. I would never smile in your presence."

Iolanthe pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

"What do you think about moving to some faraway land, Yuah... say for instance, Mallon?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Yuah feigned.

"Oh please. I know you're all a bunch of spies. There is nothing that goes on in the house that you and your father and the cook don't know about."

"I'm just the servant, Miss. You're the mistress."

"You're cheeky too. I would fire you in a minute if it weren't that Augie is under the impression that you are his sister instead of me." Iolanthe stood up and brushed out her dress. "Have you heard from him, by the way?"

"Yes, Miss." Yuah had gotten at least three letters from Augie since Iolanthe had last asked her. He did indeed think of her as a sister, and she thought of him as a brother. She sent him a letter for every one she received. They were the same age, two years younger than Iolanthe, and six years younger than Terrence, and had spent an enormous amount of time together as children.

"And?"

"Hmm?"

"And what did he say?" asked Iolanthe, pointedly.

"Oh. He wrote mostly about the native...people. Can you call them people? They aren't really people, are they?"

"It matters little what you call them," said Iolanthe as she crossed the room to the cheval glass.

"Well, he's been talking to them and learning their language. Isn't that marvelous? Imagine talking to reptiles. And he writes about the creatures that live where he is. It's all quite amazing."

"Amazing that he hasn't managed to mess it all up."

"Not at all," replied Yuah, raising her chin defiantly. "I think Master Augie is doing the family proud."

"My family," Iolanthe reminded her.

"Yes, Miss."

"Still, he's not the brother you would prefer to hear from. Is he?"

Yuah's face turned red. "I don't know what you're talking about... Miss."

"Returning to my previous topic." Iolanthe carefully placed her new hat atop her carefully coifed hair. "Life would be different for you outside of Brechalon... in a colony, I mean. Colonial life is different. You wouldn't be a servant anymore. In fact, you could probably afford servants of your own. You might be quite an important part of the community."

"Are you trying to tell me that in the colonies I might marry Terrence?"

"God no!" Iolanthe laughed musically. "Perhaps we could marry you off to a tradesman."

* * * * *

Zeah sat on the step in the courtyard and sipped his tea. It was hot and muggy, and many might have preferred a cold beverage, but the butler found tea soothing. The courtyard sat towards the side rear of the house, separated from the street on the east side only by an eight-foot-tall stone wall. Though windows looked down onto it from all three stories on the other three sides, most of those rooms were not in use, so it was relatively private. Nevertheless, the door behind him opened and young Saba stepped out. Hopping down the steps, he sat down next to Zeah.

"Good morning, Mr. Korlann."

"Good morning."

The boy had a large brown glass bottle with a rubber stopper, which he pulled out with his teeth and spat onto the step. Then he tilted the bottle back and took a great swig.

"You'll pick that up in a minute, I trust," said Zeah, indicating the stopper with a nod.

"Oh, yeah. Sure."

"What are you drinking?"

Saba held up the bottle and Zeah read the label. _Billingbow's Sarsaparilla and Wintergreen Soda Water_.

"Is it any good?"

"I love it. Would you like a taste?" The boy pointed the open mouth of the bottle at the man.

"Um, no, thank you."

"Is Miss Dechantagne really going to move to Mallon?"

"Where did you hear that?" asked Zeah, looking at the boy.

"I overheard my mother talking to Yuah about it."

"I think it best not to speculate what Miss Dechantagne might or might not do."

"You're afraid of her, huh?"

"Ah... afraid? No, I'm not afraid of Miss Duh... Dechantagne."

"Sure you are. Don't feel bad. Everyone's afraid of her. I'm afraid of her. I think Master Terrence is afraid of her."

"I, um..."

"You know how you can tell that you're afraid?"

"I'm not... um, how?"

"You only stutter when you're nervous."

"I duh... don't stutter... and nuh... nervous is not the same thing as afraid."

Saba took another swig of soda. "Sure it is. It's just another word for it, like hart is just another word for horse."

"They're not the same thing at all. And a hart is a deer."

"You know you shouldn't be nervous. It's not like Miss Dechantagne is going fire you."

"It's not?"

"No. She always says she's going to fire somebody, but when was the last time you saw her really do it?"

"About five minutes ago," said Zeah.

"Really? Who'd she fire?"

"She dismissed Nora."

"I don't know anybody named Nora."

"She was the girl I hired the other day."

"Well, you see there," said Saba, knowingly. "She was new. When was the last time Miss Dechantagne fired anyone that had been with the house for a while?"

"She dismissed Tilda yesterday."

"Yeah, I miss her," said Saba wistfully. "So is Miss Dechantagne really going to move to Mallon?"

"Um, I think it's best not to discuss this. Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I was just thinking. If she goes, then I imagine that we would get to go with her."

"Do you want to move to Mallon?" asked Zeah.

"Sure. Who wouldn't?"

"Um, I wouldn't."

"Sure you would. It would be great. It would be just like living in a Rikkard Banks Tatum novel."

"Don't all of his books involve monsters, chases, and narrow escapes from danger?"

"You bet," the boy grinned. "It'll be the dog's bullocks."

Saba drained his bottle of Billingbow's and stood up. "Well, I guess I'd better get busy. I'm supposed to wash the steam carriage. Do you think I could drive it out of the motor shed?"

"No," Zeah replied. "You had best push it out."

The boy's grin disappeared. He sighed and then walked across the courtyard to the motor shed. Zeah reached down and picked up the rubber stopper that Saba had left, then stood up, stretched his back, and went up the steps and back into the house.

* * * * *

It was the first time that Nils Chapman had seen Prisoner 89 doing anything other than lie curled up in a fetal position. Today she was sitting, cross-legged in the center of the room. It was hot and muggy, and he had to wipe the perspiration from his eyes in order to see her clearly. She was muttering something, but he had to listen for a minute to make out just what it was.

"...nine hundred seventy-four days. One thousand nine hundred seventy-four days. One thousand nine hundred seventy-four days."

"Why are you counting the days?" he called to her through the small window in the armored door.

She locked eyes with him but didn't stop repeating her words.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

She stopped. "Yes."

"Alright. I'll get you something."

Chapman made his way down the stone corridor toward the south wing and the kitchen. He hadn't quite reached it, when he ran into Karl Drury going the other direction. The other man wore his usual scowl and his shirt was soaked through with sweat. He didn't need to ask what the other man wanted.

"Why don't you leave her alone?" said Chapman.

"Why don't you piss off?" Drury replied and shoved him into the wall.

Chapman immediately leaned back toward Drury.

"I'm not afraid of you," he growled, which was in fact not true at all.

"You'd better be," the other man hissed, producing a knife from somewhere. "I could gut you right now... or maybe I'll do it tonight, while you're asleep."

"Tosser," said Chapman, but he hurried away toward the kitchen.

Purposefully waiting a good half hour before returning to the north wing, Chapman unlocked the door after he was sure that his sadistic fellow guard had gone. Prisoner 89 was sprawled across the stone floor like a ragdoll. It was no surprise that she had been raped, but the guard was shocked at how badly she had been beaten. Apparently, she was not nearly as acquiescent as she had been before. Her eyes were open, but they stared at the ceiling, unmoving.

"I brought you a Roger's Pie."

He sat the wooden bowl containing the bun filled with meat and turnips next to her. Her eyes rolled around in her head and then looked at him. She sat up and snatched the pie from the bowl, stuffing it into her mouth.

"Have to keep my strength up," she muttered with her mouth full. "One thousand nine hundred seventy-four days."

"Why are you counting?"

She finished the pie but didn't reply to his question.

"Is your name Zurfina?"

Suddenly her eyes came alive, full of fire, of danger, and of power.

"Zurfina the Magnificent," she said.

"Can I get you something else?"

"Why?" she asked, the now dangerous grey eyes narrowing.

"Um, I don't know."

"Bring me a knife!" she hissed.

"I can't do that," he said. "Even if it wouldn't get me sacked, you'd hurt yourself."

He now saw that the woman had a series of slash marks up the length of both arms and on both thighs.

"You're trying to kill yourself."

"I promise I'm not going to kill myself," she said.

Chapman turned to leave and stopped in his tracks. Covering the entire wall of the cell all around the door were strange symbols, black against the grey of the stone. Though they weren't really letters, and certainly weren't from any language that he knew, there was something nevertheless familiar about them. They seemed to swirl and move unnaturally, as if the wall was made not of stone, but of rubber or something similarly malleable, and it was being manipulated from behind, creating waves and bulges.

"Kafira," he swore, and then he jumped as he heard the woman stir behind him. When he looked at her though, she was only getting to her feet, slowly.

"What is that?" he asked, afraid to look back at the wall and afraid to keep his back to it as well.

"That is Omris and Siris," she replied cryptically. "That is Juton and Treffia. It is Worron and Tommulon."

"I don't know any of those words."

She moved so close to him that her smell gagged him. She stank of years of sweat and urine and filth, and something else.

"That's your blood!"

"Tell no one about this," she ordered. "Tell no one. Tell no one."

He stepped quickly away and slammed the door shut, locking it behind him. He ran down the corridor toward the south wing, and he didn't look back. Still, he could hear her voice behind him.

"One thousand nine hundred seventy-four days. One thousand nine hundred seventy-four days."

* * * * *

Avenue Boar ran west from the Great Plaza of Magnus to St. Admeta Park, which was a lovely square expanse of fruit trees and green swards open to the public only on holidays or special occasions. To the north of St. Admeta park was Palace Eidenia, home of the Princess Royal, though since the death of Princess Aarya some ten years prior it had been unoccupied by any member of the royal family. To the west of the park was Avenue Royal which led to Sinceree Palace, where King Tybalt III spent his days while in the city, and to the south was Crown Street which led to the Palace of Ansegdniss where the Parliament of the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon met. Along either side of Crown Street were the official homes of the King's ministers. Number 3 was the home of the First Lord of the Treasury while number 4 was the home of the Second Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer. The Foreign Minister lived in number 7 and the Judge Advocate General lived in number 8, but the largest of the homes on Crown Street was number14: that of the Prime Minister.

Stepping out of her steam carriage, Iolanthe Dechantagne retrieved her parasol from behind the seat and opened it, even though it was a walk of only thirty feet to the door. She tucked a small envelope of papers under her arm. The parasol matched Iolanthe's outfit, a grey pin-striped day dress framed with waves of antique lace. The single police constable stationed at the Prime Minister's door nodded affably and made no mention of the fact that Iolanthe's parking skills had resulted in both tires on the right side of her car being well up onto the sidewalk. He opened the door for her, and she stepped into the vast foyer of the official residence. A maid was waiting to take the parasol and lead her into the offices of the Prime Minister.

Iolanthe had not expected to be kept waiting and indeed she was not. The PM, The Right Honorable Ewart Primula stood up from behind a massive oak desk that had been fashioned from the timbers of the ancient battleship HMS Wyvern. He was a tall, balding man with a thick middle and rather loose jowls that tightened up when he smiled.

"Lady Dechantagne," he said, hurrying around, but waiting for her to shake his hand.

Iolanthe pursed her lips. "Prime Minister, you know that title is not appropriate."

"Well, it should be," the PM replied. "It is most unfair that you should suffer because of... well, because of your father. If it were up to me, your title would be restored, and your brother would be viscount."

"We both know it's not up to you, and the one man that it is up to is not likely to share your inclination."

"Let's not speak of it then," said Primula, gesturing toward a comfortable antique chair. As Iolanthe took it, he walked back around the desk and sat down. "What can I do for you today?"

"As you already alluded, my once historic and distinguished family is not quite what it was." Iolanthe licked her lips. "No viscounts in the house at present, I'm afraid. My two brothers and I could of course live comfortably for the rest of our lives on our household income, but we have bigger plans. We are going to bring the greatness back to our name."

The Prime Minister nodded.

"Our plan is not just to help ourselves though," she continued. "Freedonia and Mirsanna are building colonies in distant lands and are becoming wealthy as a result. Greater Brechalon must do the same thing. We propose to build a Brech colony, assuming a royal charter is available"

"In Birmisia," the PM said, nodding.

"We have as yet not decided. Birmisia is one possibility. Cartonia is another."

"I think you have settled on Birmisia. You went to a great deal of trouble to have your brother stationed there."

"Why Prime Minister," said Iolanthe, with a thin smile. "I didn't know that we warranted such attention."

"If anything, I believe I have not been paying enough attention. You are quite a remarkable person, particularly for a woman."

"And you are quite a perceptive person, Prime Minister, for a man."

Primula chuckled. "So, what is it that I can do to facilitate this expansion of our empire?"

"First of all," said Iolanthe. "There is the question of the aforementioned charter."

"I see no undue complications there."

"Then there is the question of transportation."

The Prime Minister looked puzzled. "You will charter ships, yes?"

"I will arrange for a number of ships to deliver both settlers, and equipment and supplies. But in order to assure the safe transit of the first settlers and to guarantee the establishment of the colony, I would like the use of a Royal Navy ship, preferably a battleship, along with its crew, of course."

"Of course," Primula laughed. "You know you just can't charter a battleship like it was a yacht for the Thiss Regatta."

"Talking of which, congratulations on your victory yesterday."

"Thank you. The regatta is one of the few pleasures I still allow myself."

Iolanthe leaned forward, her hand reaching out with a heretofore unnoticed small envelope, which she gave to the Prime Minister. He accepted it, opened it, and unfolded the document inside.

"Sweet mother of Kafira!" he gasped, his face turning white. "Where did you get this? No. I don't want to know. Does anyone else know about this?"

"No."

"But they will if I don't accede to your demands?"

"Don't be silly, Prime Minister." Iolanthe leaned back, folding her hands in her lap and smiled. "This is the original. There are no facsimiles. This is a gift."

Ewart Primula jumped up from his seat and pulled aside a large portrait of His Majesty on the wall behind him. He quickly turned the combination on the safe which was revealed, and in a moment, he had placed the paper and the envelope inside, closed and locked the safe, and replaced the stern portrait of the King. Turning around, his face took on a wary look, as if he only just realized that there was a tiger seated across the desk from him.

"I don't know what to say," he said slowly.

"Don't mention it, Prime Minister," Iolanthe smiled. This did nothing to drive the image of a tiger from his mind. Neither did her next words. "I consider it my duty; one I can perform again. There are a great many similar documents drifting about, you know."

The PM dropped heavily into his chair.

"As I understand it," he said with a sigh. "There are two battleships coming in for extensive refit in the next few months—the Minotaur and the Indefatigable, if I'm not mistaken. One of them could be held until you are ready. It is of course, in the best interest of the empire to establish this colony."

"Oh, indeed it is," replied Iolanthe.

"Is there anything else?"

"Oh, export papers and manifest waivers, and things of that sort; nothing we need to discuss face to face."

"Are you sure you don't want me to give you a government wizard?" More than a hint of sarcasm was present in these words, but Miss Dechantagne appeared not to notice.

"No. When the time comes, we will hire our own spellcasters—ones we can trust."

She stood up and the Prime Minister walked around the desk to take her hand, though he seemed far less enthusiastic about it than he had on her arrival.

"You can't trust any of them," he said.

"It is not a question of whom one may trust, Prime Minister," said Iolanthe. "It is a question of how far. I will trust them precisely as much as I trust anyone else."

# Chapter Six: Blood

Yuah Korlann woke so suddenly that for a moment she didn't recognize where she was. She was of course, in her own bed, in her own small room, in the servant's quarters of Number One, Avenue Dragon, in Brech City... in Greater Brechalon. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and stuck them into her house shoes. What a queer dream that had been.

She had been walking down a road. It had been winter. Patches of snow lay here and there on the ground and some of the trees were bare, although there were many evergreens. She had been bundled up in a thick fur coat, far more luxurious and expensive than anything she would ever really be able to afford. She even had a fur muff. The most extraordinary thing though, wasn't where she was, but who or more precisely what, she was with. It was an alligator, walking upright and wearing a yellow evening gown. As they walked along, they talked about the strangest things: the state of the Kingdom, literature, and religion.

Reaching for the glass of water on her nightstand, Yuah saw the open book lying there. She had been reading _Night of the Snake_ by Ebrahim Detsky. That was the problem. She ought not to read books like that right before bed.

Getting up and throwing the housecoat over her nightdress, she shuffled out the door, down the hallway and into the servant's hall. It was just light enough to see, and she realized it was a quarter past four when the wall clock sounded four sharp chimes.

Padding her way on into the kitchen, she thought about having a cup of tea, but that would have meant starting a fire in the oven. Instead, she opened the door of the icebox and withdrew a bottle of milk, one of six, and got a glass from the cupboard. She poured her milk, put the bottle back, and carried the glass into the servant's hall, where she sat down at the great table. As she drank her milk, she could hear the clock tick-tock in the other room. It seemed to get louder and louder.

"You're up early." At the sound of the voice Yuah jumped, dribbling milk down her chin.

"Heavenly days! What's wrong with you?" Both the exclamation and the question were out of her mouth before she turned around to find Terrence staring wryly at her.

"Good morning," he said.

"Don't look at me! I'm practically naked!"

"You're kidding, right? You've got more clothes on than an Argrathian virgin." He stepped past her and made his way into the kitchen.

"I'm sure I wouldn't know," said Yuah.

"About Argrathians or about virgins? Shouldn't there be some cheese in the icebox? Oh, here we go. Now where's the breadbox?"

"Why didn't you just press your buzzer?"

"What?" He poked his head back in through the doorway.

"You have a buzzer in your room next to the bed. When you press it, whoever's on duty, I think it's Eunice, will bring you whatever you want."

"When did I get one of those?"

"Your sister had it put in a few months ago."

"How much do you suppose that cost? Oh, here's the bread."

"You would think that you would know. After all, it is your money she's spending."

There was a clattering of knives and plates, but Terrence said nothing else until he emerged back from the kitchen with a cheese sandwich on a plate in one hand and what was left of Yuah's bottle of milk in the other.

"If I'm not worried about it, you shouldn't be," he said, sitting down.

He took a bite of sandwich and they were both quiet for a moment.

"That's your problem, you know," Yuah said quietly. "You never worry about anything."

"You're overstepping yourself, little maid. It's not your job to worry about what my problem is." He drained the milk bottle and set it down, hard, on the table.

"Somebody has to. You're hiding out somewhere poisoning yourself, aren't you?"

"Shut the hell up," he said, getting to his feet.

"You're not taking care of yourself and nobody else is either. I nursed you when you were little, but who's looking after you now?"

"And just who did you think you were, when you were nursing me? My sister or my mother?"

Yuah flushed.

"I see," Terrence stepped close and leaned down to look her in the face. "You thought you were my woman. Well, you're not."

Yuah felt tears flooding unbidden down her cheeks. She wanted to scream that she wouldn't marry an idiot like him in a million years, but all that came out was "I hate you!"

"Yeah, welcome to the club." He stood up and tossed the sandwich onto the table, where it fell apart and scattered.

Yuah jumped to her feet and rushed toward the doorway, pausing just long enough to yell once more at Terrence. She wanted to tell him that he hated himself so much that he would never be able to love anyone else, but all that came out was "You can't have me!"

"Why would I want a skinny little bint like you?" shouted Terrence after her.

* * * * *

"What do you think this is supposed to be?" asked Arthur McTeague.

"I think it was a city a long time ago," replied Augie Dechantagne, with an emphasis on the second word.

The two lieutenants and the full platoon of soldiers were standing on a smooth surface of stone slabs that had been fitted together. There were steps here and there, breaking the area up into several terraces of varying heights. In a few places there were piles of stone that might have indicated that a wall had once stood there, but there were no buildings. On the far side of the clearing were a series of seven large stones. Each stood about eight feet tall and they were roughly oval in shape. At either end of the row were the remains of other similar stones that had once stood in the line, but had long ago crumbled, either from exposure to the elements or from ancient vandalism. Though those that remained were weathered and worn, one could see that each had been carved long ago to represent a dragon.

A loud squawk announced the arrival of eight or ten creatures that burst out of the trees and ran across the ancient stones. They were only slightly larger than the average chicken and were covered in hairy feathers, though their faces looked all too reptilian and their mouths were full of needle-sharp teeth.

"Now, are those birds or dinosaurs?" asked McTeague.

Augie shrugged, but pulled out a book from his tunic.

"And what's that?"

"That my friend is called a book. People, not artillery officers mind, but other people, sometimes read them."

McTeague gave him a withering look. "What book is it, you great tosser?"

"It's Colonel Mormont's journal. My brother sent it to me."

"Yes, I've heard of the chap. He was here in Birmisia a few years ago, right?"

Augie didn't reply. He was busy flipping through the pages.

"What does he say about those little buggers?"

"Hold on a minute. I'm looking."

McTeague folded his arms and waited. Several of the men were chasing the small creatures around the edge of the clearing.

"Here it is. Here it is. I knew I recognized them." Augie held up the open page to a drawing that did indeed bear a strong resemblance to the creatures in question.

"Buitreraptors," McTeague read. "Why do you suppose they all have to have such strange names?

"You know how these naturalist types are. Besides, if you just went with 'chicken-lizard' and 'turkey-lizard' you'd soon run out of names. Face it. That's really what they look like."

A much louder squawk than those heard before announced to all the soldiers that something larger and more frightening than the skittish buitreraptors had arrived. A monster burst out of the brush and ran toward the tiny creatures. It was a bird lizard too, covered with feathers ranging from a deep turquoise on the head to a light green around the legs, but it didn't fit Augie's earlier nomenclature, if for no other reason than size. Its body was as large as the biggest horse, its head bobbing back and forth about seven feet above the ground, but its long, feathered tail stretched straight out behind it to make it more than twenty feet long. Though the puny wings would have made any attempt to fly laughable, the clawed fingers and the huge sickle-shaped clawed toes prevented any such jocularity.

The monster apparently had been stalking its tiny cousins through the woods, but now that it saw the human beings, it abruptly changed its targets. Why chase after a tiny morsel when a much juicier and slower prey could be had? It needed only to shift its weight and maintain the same stride to put it on its new trajectory. With a leap into the air that amazed everyone watching, the beast flew more than forty feet to land on top of Private Holloway, clawing him and bending down to give him a killing bite before anyone could react. A second later, the beast was peppered with more than twenty shots fired from all over the clearing.

"Kafira damn-it!" Augie shouted. "Color Sergeant!

"Sir." Color Sergeant Bourne ran toward him and came to attention.

"Set up a perimeter watch. Make sure all the men have chambered rounds. And prepare a burial detail." The Color Sergeant hurried off to his duties. Augie turned to McTeague. "Come on."

The two lieutenants stepped over to the giant bird and Private Holloway. It was only too obvious that he was beyond hope. His head had been bitten half through, though his extremities twitched slightly.

"Nothing to be done," said McTeague.

"Not for Holloway," Augie agreed.

* * * * *

It was a large spider crawling across his face that woke Nils Chapman up. It tickled his right nostril and then continued on its way down his right cheek and over his right ear. He turned his head and watched it as it went over the edge of the mattress. He didn't want to get up. He wanted to count—one thousand nine hundred seventy-nine... No! No, he wasn't going to do that. He felt sick to his stomach. He had felt sick to his stomach ever since he had seen the impossible undulating movement of the wall in Prisoner 89's cell. He hadn't gone back to the cell since, but the uneasiness, the slowly creeping nausea, did not go away.

He turned over and looked toward Karl Drury's bunk. The sadistic guard was not there. On the one hand, this made Chapman happy, because he found that he was increasingly happy whenever Drury was not around. On the other hand, if he wasn't here and he wasn't on duty, he was probably in 89's cell, abusing her. Chapman shuddered. He had become increasingly sickened by Drury's treatment of people in general and this woman in particular, but now he felt even more ill at the thought of the cell itself, and the wall, and the strange writing, and the undulating movement... He shuddered.

He sat up and rolled out of bed. Taney was the only other guard in the bunkroom.

"Where's Drury?" he asked.

"The filthy bastard's got duty at the loading dock," came the reply. "I wouldn't want to be one of the boys working down there."

"Somebody should stop him."

"Go ahead," said Taney, "if you want a knife between your ribs."

Chapman didn't want a knife between his ribs, but he didn't know what else to do, so he went down the ancient spiral stone steps to the docks. Six boys were unloading a skiff, but Chapman didn't see any guards. But as he stepped out into the open, he noticed something strange. There was a shadow in the middle of the dock where a shadow had no right to be. As he stepped closer, he realized it wasn't a shadow—not in the real sense of the word. It was a man-shaped blob of shadow, occupying the same area that a man would occupy had he been standing there, but with no mass and no substance and completely translucent.

"What is that?" he asked.

The boys stopped and looked at him.

"What is that?" he asked again.

"What is what?" asked one of the boys.

"Where's Drury?" he asked, his voice rising.

"He's standin' right in front of you, you great tosser," the boy replied, pointing at the shadowy blob.

"That's not Drury! I don't know what that is!"

Turning, Chapman ran up the stairs, oblivious to the open-mouthed stares of the boys. He ran past the bunkroom and down the corridor to the north wing. He ran into the door of Prisoner 89's cell, banging it with his fist, as if she could open it from the inside. Finally, he rummaged through his pockets for the great key and unlocked the door, rushing inside.

Chapman screamed. Karl Drury was hanging, naked, upside down from the ceiling. His neck had been sliced open and his blood had been drained into the piss pot on the floor beneath him. His gut had been sliced open and long lengths of bowel and a few internal organs hung down like ghastly wind chimes.

Chapman screamed again, as he felt the feather light touch of the woman on his shoulder.

"I needed more ink." Her sultry voice cut into his soul like a knife cutting through pudding.

She stepped past him and picked up the bucket of blood, tiptoeing like a ballerina to the north wall of the cell, where she dipped her fingers into the gore and began painting strange images onto the stone blocks. As she drew, she spoke to herself. Chapman didn't need to hear what she was saying. It had been bouncing around in his head since he had gotten up.

"One thousand nine hundred seventy-nine days."

"Stop it!" he shouted. "Stop it! Stop counting!"

The woman turned toward him and grinned fiercely. "Not much longer now— just a few more days. Go on back now. Don't want to draw suspicion."

He crept out of the chamber like a dog that had been beaten. He didn't go back to the south wing though, instead climbing the stone stairs until he found an alcove with a small opening to the outside world. Here he dropped to the ground and curled up into a ball and wept.

* * * * *

"That's pretty," said Senta. "Is that a sunset or a rainbow?"

She was walking down Contico Boulevard, hand in hand with her cousin Bertice. Mrs. Gantonin, who lived next door, had told Granny about a family whose boys had died and who were now giving away their clothes. With a house full of children, free clothes were not to be overlooked lightly.

"What are you talking about, you little bint?"

"Up there." Senta pointed off to the right.

"Didn't you learn that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west? That way is south. How could it be sunset? Besides, it's only half past four. I'd still be at work if they hadn't run out of number four thread."

"A rainbow, then?"

"There's no rainbow. There's not been a drop of rain for a week. How could there be a rainbow. I don't see anything at all."

"Well, I see something. It's swirly with red and yellow and blue and purple, like a storm that's coming, only made out of colors."

"You need to get your eyes fixed, you do," said Bertice, giving her arm a yank.

# Chapter Seven: Victories

My Dear Miss Dechantagne,

It was with deep regret that I left your company on the twenty-fifth, but I ease the ache within me by recalling the week that I spent with you. Surely no other fine lady of the Great City can equal you in hospitality, graciousness, or dare I say beauty.

The funds that you forwarded for the new machine have been received and put to good use. I have hired a new assistant in whom I see a great deal of promise. With her assistance and with the aid of Mr. Murty, of whom I believe I spoke during our conversations, we should be ready to begin construction within a matter of weeks.

I will of course keep you informed of the major milestones as they occur, but I would very much enjoy a visit by you to University Ponte-a-Verne. I believe you would find the architecture and the gardens to your liking and the village has many interesting sites as well. I would be more than pleased to extend some semblance of the kind courtesy that you offered me.

Eagerly awaiting your next letter,

Your humble servant,

Merced Baines Calliere PhD.

Iolanthe folded the letter closed, and with a satisfied smile, placed it in her letterbox. Clearly the Professor was smitten. She thought that he was someone that she could marry. He was certainly interesting, from a well-placed if not wealthy family. He was intelligent and relatively resourceful. Best of all he seemed willing enough to be led, which would spare her from the tiresomeness of a man who would pretend to be her master. That there was no spark of passion, at least from her perspective, didn't bother her. She had never known it and she didn't believe it existed.

She placed the letterbox in the bottom drawer of her private desk just as the head butler entered, carrying a silver tray.

"The morning post has arrived, Miss."

The letter from Professor Calliere had arrived on the evening post the day before. Iolanthe typically did not open her letters until she was ready to reply to them, but she took the bundle of envelopes, tied together with a bit of red ribbon, and looked through them. There was a letter from Mrs. Godwin back in Shopton, Mont Dechantagne and there were several bills from the carpenters that should have gone to her solicitor. Then there was an official looking envelope with a golden wax seal, which when opened, was revealed as a hand-written note from the Prime Minister.

Dear Miss Dechantagne,

I have made the arrangements we discussed earlier. The vehicle in question will be under refit for the next nine months, so I suggest you plan your timetable accordingly.

With Regards,

E. P.

"Why Prime Minister, how very cloak and dagger of you. 'The vehicle in question.' No one would suspect that a vehicle under refit would be a ship." She laughed.

"Muh... Miss?"

"What is it, Zeah?"

"Are um... are you really going to Mallon?"

"If I do, don't worry. You shall go with me."

"Muh... me?"

"Of course, Zeah. Why, I wouldn't be able to function without you."

"But, what would I duh... do?"

"I'm sure we'll find enough to keep you busy." She smiled. "Now, have the car brought around. My brother and I are going out."

Zeah raised his eyebrows. He hadn't seen much of Master Terrence at all in the three months he had been home. But he hurried off to see that the vehicle was made ready. It was more than simply bringing it around. Care had to be taken to see that the boiler was filled with water and the firebox was filled with coal, and that the coal was lit, and that a good volume of steam was allowed to build up.

Half an hour later, Iolanthe sat impatiently behind the steering wheel. Her leather driving gloves just matched her green day dress. The tall black top hat with white flowers that she had chosen was tied to her head with a large strip of green ribbon. Zeah, who stood on the sidewalk, watched as her eyes grew narrower and narrower. He was very happy when at last Master Terrence walked down the steps. Terrence wore a new grey suit with a red plaid waistcoat. He had shaved but had dark bags under his eyes. Rather than climbing into the passenger seat, he walked around to the driver's side.

"Move over," he said.

"I'm driving," said Iolanthe.

"No. No, you're not."

"It is the year of our Lord eighteen hundred ninety-seven and women can drive."

"Women may drive. Some women can drive. Not you. Scoot over."

Iolanthe pursed her lips but moved across the seat to the other side, careful not to smash her bustle. Folding her hands in her lap, she waited for her brother to climb in and get settled. He released the brake with his right hand and stepped on the forward accelerator with his right foot, and they were off.

"Where are we going now?" Terrence asked.

"King's Park Oval. You remember where it is?"

"Of course, I remember." He pressed his foot down on the decelerator and whipped around the fountain of Lord Oxenbourse and drove north up Scrum Boulevard. "Why are we going there?"

"West Brumming is playing Ville Colonie."

"I thought you hated cricket."

"I don't hate cricket."

"Yes, you do. You hate all sports."

"I don't hate sports." Iolanthe explained. "I just don't see the point of watching a group of men you don't even know play at games, let alone of rooting for them. I went to one or two games when I was at university."

"Well, St. Dante isn't playing. So why are we going now?"

"I thought it would be good for you to get out of the house for a bit. You've hardly gone out of doors since you arrived."

"Hmm," said Terrence noncommittally. He concentrated on his driving but after a few minutes felt his sister's eyes on him. "What?"

"Perhaps you should visit a bordello."

Terrence almost lost control of the vehicle and swerved into another lane. "Kafira!"

"I know men have needs."

"Iolanthe..."

"Perhaps that's why you're feeling poorly."

"Please stop talking."

"When was the last time you were with a woman?"

"If you don't shut up, I may never be able to be with a woman again."

"All I'm saying is that it may not be healthy to keep things bottled up, so to speak."

Terrence stamped down on the forward accelerator taking the steam carriage near its top speed of forty miles-per-hour but had to almost immediately decrease the speed to turn off onto the grassy drive to the cricket grounds. Thankfully Iolanthe remained quiet as he parked the car at the end of a line of similar vehicles. He climbed down and walked around to help her down. She opened her parasol and took his arm and they walked toward the bleachers.

"Just think about it," she said.

"Shut up," he snapped, and then muttered, "I shall be able to think of little else."

Ville Colonie had been designated as the visitors, randomly it seemed as this was the home grounds of neither team. Ville Colonie was a village on the small channel island of Petitt Elvert, while West Brumming was a small town about fifty miles north of Brech City. The team members from the north were dressed in white shirts and grey dungarees, while the team from Ville Colonie, as might be expected from those descended from Mirsannan immigrants, were flamboyantly arrayed in bright blue stripes. Next to the home team hutch were several dozen chairs around tables with large parasols, where all of the women and the men who were with them sat, while next to the visitors' hutch was a grandstand filled entirely with men.

"Good heavens," said Iolanthe. "I had no idea that cricket was so popular. There must be four hundred people here."

"I doubt there's anyone left in either of those towns." Terrence led his sister to one of the few remaining empty tables, pulled out a chair for her, and then sat down himself.

The two team captains joined the umpire on the pitch for the coin toss. It was determined that Ville Colonie would bat first and the players took their positions. The West Brumming bowler was getting his eye in as a heavyset blond batsman waited. At last the match started as the bowler sent a beautiful bouncer down the wicket, but a loud crack indicated a shot and the two batsmen, including the big chap, went running.

"Would you like something to drink?" Terrence asked.

"Is there a waiter?" wondered Iolanthe, looking around.

"No, there's a snack kiosk over there." He pointed to a small shed just beyond the visiting team hutch. "What would you like?"

"I don't suppose they have any wine."

"I doubt it."

"A beer then."

Terrence took his place in the queue, only occasionally looking back at the game. He wasn't really that interested in cricket, even though he had played it at university. There was no point in telling Iolanthe though. Once she had her head set on something, it wasn't likely to change. He purchased two bottles of beer, which came in tall brown bottles with cork stoppers.

Just as he turned around to leave, he was approached by a young woman with long red hair. She was dressed in a long brown skirt and a white blouse and looked as though she might have just come from a factory job. She was pretty, in a course sort of way, and she wore no makeup.

"Can you help me, sir?" she asked, and then turned and began to walk away before Terrence could answer.

He shrugged and followed her, a beer bottle in each hand, around the corner of the kiosk and between a pair of small sheds. As he made the second corner, Terrence came face to face with three men. Two of them were brandishing knives. For a second he didn't recognize them. Then suddenly he did. They were three men outside Blackwood's. The memory of the white opthalium made his eyes water slightly. What was it that Blackwood called the first fellow... Mickey, Mikey, Mika?

"Thanks, luv. Hurry on your way," said Mika to the girl, who quickly left. He then turned and smiled unpleasantly at Terrence. "You're so happy t'see me your eyes are waterin' eh?"

"I'm sentimental," Terrence replied.

The toughs had chosen their spot well. They were shielded from the street by a hedgerow and from the cricket game and the spectators by the sheds. Without conscious thought, Terrence's mind ran through his options. He could drop one of the beers and go for the pistol in his pocket. He could simply bash the bottles into a couple of skulls. In either scenario, he'd probably take at least one knife blade. He could always yell for help. There were plenty of people within earshot, probably even a copper. Again, he'd probably get stabbed. Besides, he'd never yelled for help in his life.

"Care for a beer?" he asked.

"I'm goin' t'enjoy lettin' the air outa you."

Suddenly there was a loud report followed by a wet smack and the man behind Mika, Mika's brother Terrence suddenly remembered, dropped to the ground with a massive hole in his chest pouring out blood like a johnny pump. Before anyone had time to think or to move or to think about moving, three more shots rang out. The beer bottles in Terrence's hands exploded and then a good portion of Mika's jaw was ripped off his face. He dropped to the ground with a gurgled scream, while the third man in the group turned and ran. Terrence turned to his left, still holding the shattered remains of the bottles, to find Iolanthe in a cloud of gun smoke, a .45 caliber pistol pointed in his general direction. It was an exact match to the one in his pocket save only that hers had a pearl handle.

"Kafira's tit, Iolanthe! You almost hit me!"

"You're welcome," she replied, closing her left eye and taking a bead on the fleeing man's back.

"Let him go," he said, and looked down at the sad remains of Mika, now whining pitifully.

A police constable came jogging up from behind Terrence, followed by a few cricket players, one carrying a bat, as well as a few stout fellows from the grandstand.

"These men were trying to rob my brother," said Iolanthe, stepping forward.

"Oh, it's you, Miss Dechantagne," said the constable. "Are you injured?"

"No, PC, thank you for asking, but I believe one or both of the men I shot may be in need of ambulance service."

The constable knelt down and checked Mika's brother for a pulse.

"This one doesn't need an ambulance. He's dead. What are these boys doing so far from the Bottom?"

"Not to belabor the point," said Iolanthe. "But I believe they were practicing daylight robbery."

"Even so. Will you be leaving now?"

"Of course not. The match is not over." She flipped open the revolver and used her fingernail to pull out the spent cartridges. "Come along Terrence."

The constable left for the police telegraph box to call for an ambulance, while a man from the grandstand rendered what aid there was to give. Everyone else, including the Dechantagne siblings wandered back toward the game. Terrence, who was still holding the spouts and necks of the broken bottles, dropped them in a dust bin as they rounded the corner to the snack kiosk.

"Where did you have that pistol?" he asked. "You don't have a handbag."

"I have plenty of room for it under my dress."

He glanced at his sister's form. While the top of her dress was very form-fitting indeed, the bottom half of her, thanks to her bustle and voluminous undergarments, blossomed out to such a degree that she could have hidden the arsenal for the good part of a rifle company within her skirts.

* * * * *

"I make a hundred and fifty feet," said Lieutenant Arthur McTeague, without taking his eyes from the binoculars.

"Decrease elevation two degrees," called Lieutenant Augie Dechantagne.

"Ready!" called Corporal Worthy from the centermost 105mm howitzer.

"Fire!" There was a long pause and then a distant explosion.

"Oops. You're long," said McTeague. "I mean, longer."

"Kafira damn it!" yelled Augie. "I said decrease elevation! Decrease!"

"Sorry sir! Ready sir!"

"Fire!"

"On target," said McTeague, after the wait.

"Lay down a pattern of fire!" The five guns began rapidly firing, only to be immediately reloaded and fired again.

McTeague lowered his binoculars and pulled his earplugs from his pocket. Stuffing them into his ears, he walked over to stand next to Augie.

"Why are we shelling this village again?"

"I didn't ask," Augie replied.

"Do you suppose they're going to counter-attack?"

"It's not my job to worry about it. It's theirs." Augie pointed to the line of infantry, their red coats and white pith helmets clearly visible halfway between the guns and the lizzie village that was rapidly becoming a flaming hell.

"Well, I suppose they needed to be taught a lesson. Put the fear of God and his Majesty into them."

"This will certainly teach them something," said Augie.

* * * * *

"It says here that the remaining robber will be moved to Herinnering Prison as soon as he is ready to leave hospital," said Mrs. Colbshallow, her face buried in the morning paper. "And Miss D is being considered for a Citizen's Safety Award."

"It's considered safe to shoot two people now, is it?" It was Merriman, the main floor butler. "If I'd shot two men, I'd be in prison. She shoots two men and they give her a bloody medal."

"Best not to think things like that," said Zeah.

"Especially out loud," added Yuah.

"It's you, Yuah, that she usually wants to shoot," said Barrymore, the upstairs butler, grinning.

"She can't shoot me. She couldn't live without me."

"Don't get cheeky," said Zeah. "I had to hire four new ones this week."

"Well, it's not as if these men didn't deserve to get shot," said Mrs. Colbshallow. "Imagine trying to rob someone in broad daylight. We need more police, that's what we need."

"I'm going to be a copper in a few years," said Saba, walking in from the front hallway and sitting down.

"No, you aren't," his mother informed him. "I would be forever worrying. It's far too dangerous for any child of mine."

Saba didn't point out that he was the only child of hers. He just scooped up large mounds of fried eggs, white pudding, and sausages. Mrs. Colbshallow went back to commenting on the news, particularly how information of the coming eclipse did not belong in the weather section. With Saba's addition there were eleven people eating breakfast in the servant's hall at that moment, a good portion of the staff having already eaten and started on their morning duties, and those few who had the overnight shift had mostly already gone to bed. Marna, one of the last of the latter group came in from the side hallway, looking like she could fall asleep on her feet at any moment.

"Yuah, Master Terrence wants to see you," she said.

"I'm not interested."

"I'm just the messenger."

Yuah turned to look at Marna, and saw Terrence standing in the hallway several paces behind her.

"I'm not his valet." With careful precision, she lifted her chin into the air and turned back to the table. "I'm the dressing maid."

A minute later, under the guise of reaching for a scone, she cast a sideways look at the spot where he had been standing to find that he was now gone.

* * * * *

Karl Drury was a shadow of his former self—literally. As far as anyone knew, he still made his rounds through the fortress of Schwarztogrube, he still hurled insults at almost everyone, and he still stuffed his ugly face in the mess hall. If he beat some of the prisoners less than he used to, or abused the boys less than he used to, who was going to complain about that? The only one who seemed bothered by Drury these days was Nils Chapman. He began to shake every time Drury entered the room and he refused to look at him. But Chapman knew what nobody else did. That was not really Karl Drury. The real Karl Drury was dead. He had dropped the sadistic guard's body into the ocean himself. Of course, Nils Chapman was a shadow of his former self too—figuratively. His eyes had gone dull and his skin was pale. He didn't sleep anymore, and he could hardly eat.

"One thousand nine hundred eighty-three days," he muttered to himself over and over again, from his spot, curled up in a ball in the corner of the cell.

"Don't worry, Pet." Zurfina reached down and stroked his hair. "It's almost over. This time tomorrow we'll both be gone."

Chapman grabbed hold of her leg and held it close as he kept his eyes pressed tightly shut. He couldn't bear to see the walls, all four of which were covered in ghastly markings of smeared blood, and all four of which pulsed and throbbed sickeningly.

# Chapter Eight: Day One Thousand Nine Hundred Eighty-Four

"What do you have there?" asked Zeah.

"It's magic glass," replied Saba, holding up a small square of very dark but very shiny material.

"This conversation sounds like the beginning of a fairy tale. Did you trade your magic beans to get this magic glass?"

"Don't be silly, Mr. Korlann. I didn't have any magic beans, and this cost me 75 P."

"Good heavens. Why would you pay 75 pfennigs for that?"

"For the eclipse."

"Eclipse?"

"Sure. There's an eclipse today. Almost a full one. If we were in the channel it would be full. It would get dark in the middle of the day."

"Oh yes, yes. It was in the paper. I imagine it will be spectacular enough right here in Brech City. But what is the glass for?"

"Haven't you ever heard that you shouldn't stare at an eclipse because you'll go blind?"

"Of course."

"I can't tell you how much that has worried me since I found that out," said Saba. "I'm always afraid that I might accidentally look at the sun and it would be just my luck that there was an eclipse going on right then, and I would go blind."

"Well, first off, there's nothing special about an eclipse that is worse on your eyes. Stare at the sun anytime, eclipse or no, and you risk damage to your..."

"Anyway," the boy interrupted. "I got this glass so I can watch the eclipse. You can stare at it all day through this and not get blinded. Can't see a bloody thing through it now though." He tried to look at the head butler through the small pane held to his right eye.

"Let's hope it really works," said Zeah skeptically. "I trust you bought it from a reputable dealer."

"Sure. I got it at the potion shop on Avenue Phoenix. They're selling loads of them. If it doesn't work, they'll be hip deep in angry blind people."

* * * * *

"It's almost time now, Pet," said Zurfina looking at the sun, through the tiny window high up on the wall.

Nils Chapman was crawling on his knees next to her. Shaking and twitching uncontrollably, he no longer had the ability to stand on his own. This didn't bother him because he no longer had the ability to think on his own either. He crawled along on all fours drooling like a dog to the center of the cell.

Zurfina peeled off the filthy rags that had been her only clothing since she had been brought to this hellhole one thousand nine hundred eighty-four days before. She tossed them aside and sat down cross-legged in the center of the cell. Chapman pressed against her, but she pushed him away. Closing her eyes, she began to chant.

"Uuthanum, uuthanum, uuthanum, uuthanum." She repeated the word over and over again. Twenty times. A hundred times. Slowly the room became darker and darker. She continued to chant. The eclipse was at his height.

Chapman screamed. Zurfina opened her eyes and smiled. The four walls were walls no more. They were shining, rippling, silvery surfaces, like the surface of frighteningly cold and deep water. Sounds could be heard from the other side—freakish, awful piping noises that tugged at one's sanity. Then the surface directly in front of her bubbled and churned, touched by something on the other side of that boundary between the cell and the abyss beyond.

"Yes!" Zurfina screamed. Then she began reciting a new set of words. "Uuathanum eetarri. Uuthanum eetarri. Uuthanum blechtore. Uuthanum blechtore. Uuthanum maiius."

* * * * *

"So, can you see the eclipse?"

"Sure. It's ace," said Saba, standing in the courtyard. Then he turned and saw who was speaking and flinched.

"Would you like to take a look, Miss?" he asked, offering Iolanthe the magic glass pane.

Taking the almost completely opaque square, she held it up to her eye and pointed her face toward the sky.

"Interesting. It looks like a halo."

"Yeah. Yeah, it does look like a halo, um... Miss."

"It doesn't feel like a halo, though, does it?"

"Miss?"

"Look at it again," she said, handing back the magic glass. "This time, tell me what you feel."

The boy looked again and suddenly shuddered. When he looked back at her, his face was accusing. She had made him aware of something he hadn't noticed before. There was something evil about the eclipse, and though he had looked forward to the event since he had first heard about it from his mother, now all he wanted was the return of the sun in its full glory.

* * * * *

The thing on the other side of the membrane between two worlds tested it once again, and a moment later it burst through. It was long, thick tentacle, necrotic grey, and covered with suction cups. It searched along the stone floor of the cell, tentatively at first. Then it touched the sorceress sitting naked and chanting and suddenly it shook and thrashed throughout the chamber.

"No!" shouted Nils Chapman and he jumped in front of Zurfina. The tentacle found him and wrapped around his waist.

"No!" he cried again, and then it yanked him so violently that the snapping of his neck was clearly audible, as it pulled him beyond the shimmering veil.

Suddenly the room was filled with a hundred tentacles, touching every inch of the cell, caressing the woman like a demonic lover. She slowly rose to her feet, the tips of the alien appendages running over every inch of her skin.

"Uuathanum eetarri blechtore maiius uusteros vadia jonai corakathum nit."

A black fog poured into the cell from all four walls. It filled up the tiny chamber and sprayed through the openings in the door, creeping down the corridors of the prison and into every room and every cell, every nook and every alcove.

* * * * *

"How is it?"

"It was ace," replied Saba. "Now I just want the sun to come back."

"Don't be like that." Yuah stepped down the stairs from the back door and put an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Let me take a look."

Saba held the square of magic glass up and Yuah pressed her eye to it, leaning back to find the sun. "There. The sun's starting to move out from behind the moon. In a few minutes everything will be just like it was before."

"Good."

"You shouldn't let Miss D ruin your fun. She's a right bitch, you know."

"No, she's not."

"She is."

"Well, it's not her fault."

"What do you mean?" asked Yuah.

"Nothing. Here. Do you want this?" Saba pushed the magic glass into her hands and started up the stairs into the house.

* * * * *

Zurfina smiled as the dead grey tentacles caressed her.

"Now I will leave and now I will lay my vengeance on this stony prison and this little kingdom and this world!" She raised her arms and began her final incantation. "Uuthanum..."

At that moment a thin streak of light entered from the small window high up on the wall. It was so tiny that it might have gone totally unnoticed, had it not stuck the first and largest of the grey arms moving around the cell. But the tiny sliver of sunlight burned through the tentacle like a hot ember through a slice of bread. The great tentacle jerked and thrashed about the room and the other appendages did too, one of them striking the woman and throwing her halfway across the floor. More sunlight entered through the window and all of the unearthly, unholy members were yanked back through the portals that shimmered where the walls of the cell had once been.

"No! No, I'm not finished!" screamed Zurfina.

* * * * *

Yuah stood in the courtyard, idly staring up at the eclipse through the magic glass, and totally unaware that she was being watched from a window on the third floor. Terrence watched her, appraising her in a way that he didn't bother appraising other women. There was no doubt that she was beautiful. She wore no makeup, had her hair pulled back into a bun wrapped by a maid's cap, and she wore a simple servant's dress with minimal bustle and almost no color. And yet she was one of the most beautiful women that he had ever seen. There was no doubt about that. Iolanthe was thought to be a great beauty and with her flawless skin and those striking aquamarine eyes, she was something special. Yuah's chocolate brown eyes had a tenderness and an innocence in them though that one would never find in his sister's, and Yuah's features were perfect. She could have been one of those women that the great sculptors of old used as a model. She was just the right height and she was well proportioned. So, what if she was a bit skinny.

Yuah was almost perfect. But Terrence didn't want an almost perfect woman. He had thrown away any chance at a wife and a family and a home. That was not going to be his future. His future was far away, in another time and another place, on a great field of purple flowers with a woman who was frighteningly perfect. He turned away from the window and climbed back into bed, pulling the box filled with small blue vials from beneath the pillow.

* * * * *

A large square of sunlight filled the center of the cell floor, and sprawled naked in the center of that square, was Zurfina. She lifted her head up just enough to look around and then she slammed it back against the stone floor. Then she lifted it up and slammed it back down again: once, twice, three times, till there was a bloody spot on the floor and a bloody contusion on her forehead. The walls of the cell had all returned to their original stone texture. Not even the arcane bloody scrawling remained.

Schwarztogrube really was proof against magic. She had summoned the most ancient magic in the universe, a feat only possible because of the eclipse, and had used it to release the dead demon-gods that waited beyond the edge of sanity. But even they had not been able to completely pierce the veil. All of that magic was still not enough. Without the power of the eclipse, it was not enough, and the eclipse had not lasted long enough. And it would be a long time before the next full eclipse over Schwarztogrube.

"Eight thousand four hundred thirty-seven days!" Zurfina wailed. "Kafira's bloody twat!"

She looked up at the ceiling as if she could see the sky beyond it and dared the Zaeri-Kafirite God and his crucified daughter to strike her dead. Could even his magic penetrate this magic-proof hell? Prove it!

* * * * *

"Is it over?" asked Senta.

"Yup." Maro stood up from the pinhole camera that he had made to watch the eclipse, in actuality nothing but a small pasteboard box with a hole cut in the side. Shining in through the tiny hole, the image of the sun had been visible on the back side, and as the moon had moved across the sun, the small white orb in the box had been covered and then uncovered.

"That was pretty ace, wasn't it?"

"I guess so," said Senta. "I wish we could have watched the real thing."

"You'd be blinded."

"Yeah. I'm glad you were able to make it with only eight fingers."

Maro nodded and looked at the three remaining fingers on his right hand.

"Maybe someday you'll be really rich, and you can pay a wizard to regrow your fingers for you," offered Senta.

"Maybe I'll get so used to having eight fingers I won't want my other ones back. I bet pretty soon I'll be able to do my eight times as good as you can do your tens."

"What's seven times eight?"

"Fifty-six."

"Is that right?"

"Yup."

"Wow." Senta looked impressed and she was. "What are we doing now?"

"I don't know what you're doing, but I'm going to play Mirsannan cricket at the park. You can't go because you're a girl."

"Then I'm going to the toy store and buy a doll."

"You don't have enough money to buy a doll."

"Uh-huh. For pretend."

"Yeah, alright."

"You know when you said my mom didn't want me?"

"Yeah."

"I don't understand it."

"What?"

"Well, look at me. I'm just cute."

* * * * *

"Eight thousand four hundred thirty-seven days," Zurfina told herself. "I'll be old. Well, I'll be older."

The sorceress was already older than she appeared. Thanks to magic used long ago, her body was younger than it should have been. But it was aging now. Here in this place where magic had no hold, it was aging. In eight thousand four hundred thirty-seven days, she would most surely begin to look old—not as old as her true age, but old. Too old. She would have no youth, just as now she had no magic. She couldn't wait eight thousand four hundred thirty-seven days. She had to get out. But she couldn't use magic. What could she use? What did she have?

She had her youth... for now. She had her beauty... for now. She had this body, this body that men wanted... for now. She had to use what she had.

### Chapter Nine: One Month Later

"I wish you didn't have to leave," said Iolanthe, as she brushed a stray piece of lint from her brother's blue uniform.

"The army needs me."

"I know you will do the family proud, and while you are away, you may leave everything in my capable hands."

"Yes, I know."

"And as always, come back with your shield..."

"Or on it," he finished for her.

"Indeed."

"Could you do one other thing for me, sister?"

"Of course."

He pulled an envelope from his tunic and held it toward her.

"Would you give this to Yuah after I've gone?"

She stared at it for a moment before taking the it.

"Of course," she said.

Terrence kissed her on the cheek and left the room. Iolanthe stepped over to the window and watched as his luggage was loaded onto the back of the steam carriage. Terrence walked out the front door, down the steps and climbed into the passenger side of the vehicle, while Merriman climbed into the driver's side. Iolanthe watched as the car made its way down the street and around the corner. Terrence never looked back.

Walking to her desk, she used her silver letter opener to slice through the envelope, and then pulled out the single sheet of paper inside. She put away the opener and read through the message as she walked the length of her boudoir. She shook her head and then tossed the letter and the envelope in the fireplace, watching as it burned brightly and then turned to ash.

"Yuah," she called.

A moment later the dressing maid arrived.

"Yes, Miss?"

"I'll have my white and yellow day dress."

"Yes, Miss."

"My brother has gone." Iolanthe watched her dressing maid's back stiffen.

"Yes, Miss?"

"Did he stop to say goodbye?"

"No, Miss."

"Pity. No doubt he forgot."

* * * * *

Zeah carried the mail from the morning post into the servant's hall and sat down with a sigh.

"Well, he's off to the train station."

"Maybe Miss D will be less distracted now," offered Saba.

"If anything, I think she could use with a bit more distraction," said Barrymore.

"Barrymore, you have a letter," said Zeah, handing the younger man an envelope. "And you have another letter from Mrs. Godwin, Mrs. C."

"Bless her heart," said Mrs. Colbshallow, opening her mail. "You know she's gone half wobbly in that great big house by herself."

"Mother, you say that every time you get a letter from her," said Saba, then under his breath, "People are going to think you're going all wobbly."

"My goodness!" Mrs. Colbshallow exclaimed. "She says that Miss D has sold Mooreworth cottage and the lands around it."

"Really," said Zeah. "That's a surprise. The old master enjoyed that house."

"Probably why she's selling it," said Saba, voicing what the older members of the staff would never have put to tongue.

"Still," said Zeah. "The family owns a dozen properties in the area. You don't imagine she's planning to sell them all, do you?"

No one in the servant's hall dared to make a guess, not even Saba.

* * * * *

"Kafira, help me!" pleaded Arthur McTeague, as he hung his face over the railing and vomited once again into the white-tipped waves of the open ocean.

"Buck up, my friend," said Augie, slapping him on the back. "Kafira helps those who help themselves."

McTeague rolled over, hanging so precariously over the railing that Augie felt compelled to grab him by the collar and pull him back. Though he had been fine for the first two days of the voyage from Birmisia, once they had hit the first bit of rough weather, McTeague's seasickness had surfaced. He hadn't been able to keep a meal down in almost a week.

"Curse you, Dechantagne. How can you look so pleasant?"

"Well, I am pleasant, come to that. You'll be right as rain in um... well, a week or two. A week or two in Mallontah, and then home to Brechalon. And when we get to Mallontah, I'll make you forget all about it. I've still got that check from my sister. Remember? Wine, women, good food."

At the word food, McTeague turned around again and spewed toward the ocean.

"I didn't think you could have any more in you."

"I should have just stayed in Birmisia."

"You liked it there?"

"God no. I hated it, but at least I didn't puke my livers out."

"I'm pretty sure I'm coming back," said Augie. "You could come with me."

"If I survive this trip, I'm never setting foot on a ship again."

* * * * *

The inside of the divination shop was dim and smoky, but the room was rent by daylight, seemingly as bright as lightning, when Wizard Smedley Bassington swept in from the street, his rifle frock coat trailing behind him like a black cape. In two long steps he was at the comfortable chair by the fireplace. Sweeping the coat to one side, he sat down and placed first one black hobnail boot and then the other on the corner of the sorceress's desk. He crossed his arms and stared, his horn-rimmed glasses making his beady eyes seem even beadier.

"Madame de la Rosa," he said.

The old sorceress behind the desk looked as though her skin was made of dried apples. She was small and hunched over, even sitting there. She raised a wrinkled hand and waved at the strikingly beautiful olive-skinned woman behind her.

"Amadea, get the wizard a cup of tea."

Bassington waved the girl off, though his gaze carefully took in all of her curves.

"So, what do you know?" Though his eyes were still on the young woman, his question was for her mistress.

The old woman reached beneath the desk and pulled out the perfectly round pearly white orb, precisely thirteen and three fifths inches in diameter, which Bassington had left in her care two days prior. Given that Madame de la Rosa was a diviner, one could have been excused for assuming that it was a crystal ball of some type, but it wasn't. From its complex swirly white, silver, and grey appearance it might have seemed a pearl taken from some gigantic oyster, but it wasn't.

"It is a dragon egg," said Madame de la Rosa.

"Don't waste my time."

"Watch your mouth, Wizard!" hissed the young woman.

"Don't mind Bassington, Amadea," the old woman soothed. "You may leave us."

"What kind of dragon is it?" asked the wizard, once the girl had left. "Gold? Silver? Flame? Red? Green? Night?"

"It is a Mirlughth Dragon."

"Never heard of it."

"Mirlughth is an ancient shiny substance. That's all I can tell you about it." Madame de la Rosa pressed her fingertips together creating a steeple. "There hasn't been a Mirlughth Dragon seen in millennia. This particular dragon will be very powerful and important. He is destined to rule a vast land and be worshipped as a god."

"Maybe we should destroy it now."

"If you did, and I'm not sure you could, but if you did, you would be destroying an important ally of the Kingdom of Greater Brechalon."

"Oh? What else did you see?"

"The dragon will be raised and protected. He has to be, you see. He has to be raised and protected by someone powerful enough to be the surrogate parent to a dragon. Do you know anyone like that?"

"I know who you're talking about, but she's in Schwarztogrube."

"She won't stay there."

A look of panic briefly crossed the wizard's face.

"Don't worry. She won't get out for some time. You have plenty of time to get out of the country." Her laugh was like seeds rattling inside a gourd. "I don't blame you. I wouldn't want her after me either. But I know a magister we can trust, who will sell her the egg. She'll never know that either of us had anything to do with it."

"How do you know she'll even want a dragon?" asked Bassington.

"Come now."

"Alright, but Zurfina's not going to stay in Brechalon if... when she gets out. What if she takes it to Freedonia or Mirsanna? We certainly don't want either of them to have a pet dragon."

"You don't want that," replied the old sorceress. "I don't care one way or the other. But there is an easy answer. Do you know the name Dechantagne?"

"Vaguely."

"The Dechantagne family is planning to build a Brech colony in Mallon or some other distant place. A Brech colony would be the best of both worlds. The dragon would be safe from Brechalon's enemies and Zurfina would be safe from you and your masters."

"How do you know that she'll go to this new colony?"

"I'll put a bug in her ear. I feel certain that when she hears about it, she'll be very interested."

"I'll leave it to you then," said Bassington, getting to his feet. "And don't even think about playing any games. I know where that egg is at all times, and you know what will happen to you if you cross me."

"I couldn't if I wanted to," said Madame de la Rosa, her eyes looking at some distant object. "Its future, like my own, is foreordained."

"And keep an eye on that pretty little apprentice," he said as he headed for the door. "She's already steeling from you."

"I know." The old woman cackled again. "Oh, Wizard Bassington?"

"Yes?"

"Wouldn't you like me to answer the question that everyone else who comes to see me wants answered?"

"I'm not everyone else." He crinkled his forehead. "What is it?"

"How you will die."

"All right. Tell me."

"Wouldn't it be ironic if you, who have dealt such a blow to dragons by stealing their eggs, were to be killed by a dragon?"

"No. It would be, um... whatever the opposite of ironic is."

"Well, this is how you will die. You will be killed by a dragon."

Bassington looked thoughtful. "Good," he said, and left.

* * * * *

"Welcome to Schwarztogrube, Mr. Halifax," said Sergeant Halser, saluting.

"Thank you. No need to salute. I'm a civilian after all."

Mr. Halifax held out a hand and Sergeant Halser helped him out of the small boat and up onto the shaped stone dock on the lowest section of the ancient castle. He was a short, rotund man wearing a white suit, the shirt of which was still stained with his lunch, eaten aboard the ship that had brought him. Halifax led him up the stone stairway to the upper levels.

"Can you explain to me what happened? The Judge Advocate General was rather vague in his description."

"As far as anyone can tell, it was some kind of disease. It could have been brought here by one of the guards returning from leave. They were all killed. Most of the prisoners. A few of the boys. The boys might have been less affected because of age or because they were all down near the water. No one really knows."

"I have no doubt it was due to mismanagement of some form or another," opined Halifax. "That's why operations were taken away from the Ministry of War and were given to us."

They reached a fork in the passageway.

"The south wing is this way, sir. It's where the offices and kitchen are, and most of the prisoners."

"How many prisoners are there?"

"There are twelve surviving prisoners in the south wing; one in the north wing."

"Only one?"

"Yes. Prisoner 89 was segregated from the others. There's no record of why. Perhaps it is because she is the only woman."

"A woman? Here?" Halifax frowned and licked his lips.

Halser nodded.

"Take me to her cell."

Halser led his new superior up another set of stairs and down the stone hallway to a door with a single small, barred window. Halifax had to stand on his tiptoes to peer through. He could see a blond woman inside, dressed in rags, sweeping the floor of the cell with a broom.

"Open it."

Halser unlocked the door and followed Halifax inside. The woman immediately stopped sweeping and stood demurely with her head bowed. The room was clean but Spartan. Only a single window high up on the wall let in a square of sunlight. Halifax glared accusingly at Halser.

"It was worse, when I got here, sir. I had the cot brought in and a chamber pot, and a broom so that she could clean the place up."

"It's true, sir. Sergeant Halser has been very kind."

"Still, it seems poor treatment for a young lady, regardless of your crimes. What is it you are here for?"

"I used magic without approval, sir. And when they tried to arrest me, I fought back. I may have injured a wizard, sir."

Halifax's expression said all too clearly that he thought the injury of a wizard, or the death of a wizard, for that matter, to be a relatively minor offense. "Well, you can't do any magic here, so we don't have to worry about that. And what is your name, my dear?"

"Zurfina, sir."

"Zurfina. Like the daughter of Magnus the Great?"

"Yes, sir." Zurfina curtsied.

"Is there anything you need right now?"

"If it's not too much trouble, sir, I would appreciate a bucket of water so that I could bathe. And if a needle and thread could be had, and some scraps of cloth so that I could make myself something to wear."

"Sergeant Halser, see if you can find a bucket of water and some soap for the young lady, and a washrag too. You can leave the keys with me. I'll lock up."

"Yes sir."

After the Sergeant had left, Halifax stepped close to the woman and reaching out, brushed the hair from her face.

"You are not unattractive."

"Thank you, sir."

"Things are not going to be like before," he said, pacing first toward the door and then back to her. "There will be better food and cleaner conditions. Maybe we could have some decent clothes brought from the mainland for you, and perhaps an occasional sweet."

"That would be most delightful, sir."

"When my duties allow, I could come to your cell here and visit with you. Would you like that? Would you be... cooperative?"

"Oh, yes sir."

He reached out and brushed her hair back again, this time caressing her temple with his thumb. "You do understand what I mean when I say cooperative, don't you?"

Zurfina looked up from the floor and into his eyes. She reached up and pulled his chubby hand from her face, moving it down to rest on her breast.

"I'm anxious to be cooperative," she said. "Very, very cooperative."

The End.

Available Now!

The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 1

The Voyage of the Minotaur

# The Voyage of the Minotaur Preview

"Zurfina, I presume," said Iolanthe.

"Zurfina the Magnificent." The woman had a husky voice that put Iolanthe in mind of a teen-aged boy.

"Am I supposed to call you Zurfina the Magnificent?" asked Iolanthe. "Do I say, 'good morning Zurfina the Magnificent' or 'meet me for tea, Zurfina the Magnificent' or 'look out for that falling boulder, Zurfina the Magnificent'?"

"You are of course quite right, Miss Iolanthe Dechantagne," said the woman. "We shall be on a first name basis, Miss Iolanthe Dechantagne."

Iolanthe heard a small sound coming from behind her and to her right and suspected that Yuah was suppressing a laugh, or perhaps worse, a smirk. She didn't turn to look at the dressing maid, just aimed evil thoughts in her direction.

"Show us some magic, then," she said. "I feel the need to be impressed. I know my brother is already."

Augie, who had been so engrossed in the woman's posterior, that he had not even noticed that his sister had entered the room, suddenly startled to awareness and stood up straight. The blond woman favored him with a sly smile over her shoulder. Then she raised her arm out straight in front of her, palm down. Turning her hand over, a flame sprang up in her palm. Within two or three seconds, the flame had coalesced into a humanoid figure, eight or nine inches tall, which immediately began pirouetting and spinning in a miniature ballet, all without leaving Zurfina's hand.

"That's it?" asked Iolanthe. "That's your great magic?"

"Well I thought it was smashing!" said Augie.

"You don't like fire?" said Zurfina. "How about ice?"

The tiny figure turned from fire to ice, but continued dancing, breaking off little pieces of itself as it did so, to fall to the floor like tiny snowflakes. Iolanthe pursed her lips.

"My brothers and I are preparing to embark on a great expedition," she said.

"I know all about it," said the sorceress.

"Then you know I need a magic user with real power. Just dressing like a necromantic whore doesn't make you a powerful witch."

"Oh, you are so right," said the sorceress. "Clothes do not make the woman."

She waved her hands in front of her own body, and her clothing became an exact match for Iolanthe's own evening gown, right down to the red and black trim.

"Or does it?" Zurfina said.

She waved her left hand in front of her face and it became an exact match of Iolanthe's. She even had the red and white carnations atop her head. The false Iolanthe gave a very flouncy and very un-Iolanthe-like curtsy, then raised her chin and said in a very Iolanthe-like voice. "Yuah, fetch me a white wine!" Yuah took several steps forward before remembering herself and stopping.

"Outstanding!" shouted Augie, clapping his hands.

Iolanthe took a deep breath. "Not bad, I do admit. But show me something that I won't see one of our journeyman wizards do."

The sorceress pointed her arm at Yuah, fingers splayed.

"Uuthanum uastus corakathum paj."

There was a grinding sound, as though someone were walking upon gravel, and suddenly Yuah froze in place. She, her grey and white dress, and everything else she wore had been turned into a stone statue. She looked like one of the apostles that lined the nave in the Great Church of the Holy Savior. It was as though Pallaton the Elder had been brought from his time into the present to capture the essence of a Zaeri dressing maid.

"My God!" said Augie, absent-mindedly crossing himself.

"Now that is most impressive," said Iolanthe. "We have to sit down and discuss your terms and my conditions."

* * * * *

It was mid-afternoon when Terrence stepped back out of the tent and back into the marketplace of Nutooka. He paid no attention to words of goodbye from Oyunbileg. As it always did afterwards, the color seemed to have drained out of the world, and it now looked as monochrome as a picture from a photographic plate. And just as they always did afterwards, sounds seemed far more intense than usual, and he felt as though he could pick out individual voices from among the crowd of native merchants and their customers. He pulled off his slouch hat to mop the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, and then started as two women brushed past him. They were two women from the Minotaur and seemed too engrossed in their conversation to notice him.

He recognized both of them. One was Professor Calliere's red-haired assistant. The other was a dark-haired woman, about two inches taller and thirty pounds heavier, who was a female medical doctor. Her name was something that started with a 'k' sound—Cleves or Keeves or something. Terrence stood and admired both women as they walked near the edge of the stall selling bolts of cloth in many colors. Both were women of class: dynamic, intelligence, determined. They were both the kind of women that he could have seen himself courting, in another life.

He was still watching the two women when the sounds of a great kafuffle somewhere on the other side of the market reached his ears. No sooner had this registered than seven or eight mounted men rode into the market near the two women from the Minotaur. These riders were dressed in various clothing of tan, brown, and white, but each had a red sash wrapped around his waist, and each wore a red hood completely covering his face, with only two holes cut out through which to see.

The most remarkable thing about these mounted men though, wasn't the men themselves, but their mounts. Terrence knew that horses were unavailable on Enclep, but it was still a shock to see riders upon huge, ferocious-looking birds. The birds were as tall as a horse, though unlike that noble steed, they ran on only two massive legs, and had tiny useless wings. Their clawed feet were almost two feet across and the massive beaks upon their mammoth heads looked as though they could easily clip off a man's arm or disembowel him in a moment. They were mostly covered with brown feathers, though there were black and white details on some of them. The men had them saddled, and though they squawked incessantly, they seemed to be under firm control.

One of the men on bird-back, reached down and scooped up Professor Calliere's assistant as though she were a shapely bag of wheat. Another grabbed the female medical doctor. Still another grabbed a native woman from nearby. Two or three had already appropriated women from somewhere else in the market and two more tried to grab nearby native women only to be thwarted by their intended victims diving behind market stalls. The entire flock of riders raced to escape the market and the city, which led them down the path directly toward Terrence Dechantagne.

With one deft motion, Terrence pulled both his nickel-plated .45 revolvers from their shoulder holsters. He fired first one and then the other in rapid succession emptying all twelve cylinders. The first rider fell to the ground, hit several times, as did the great bird that he had ridden. The second rider, shot through the neck, tumbled to the ground. The woman that had been his captive plopped unceremoniously onto the dirt. The rest of the riders turned their birds in a way that would have been impossible in the confined area had they been riding horses and headed for the far side of the pathway between stalls, leaving their dead fellows and a single noisy giant bird behind.

Quickly popping the cylinders of his revolvers open and reloading them, Terrence barely noticed the short redhead at his side. He tasted the metallic cloud of gunpowder smoke that hung in the humid air. By the time he had finished reloading the guns though, the mounted men had turned the corner and vanished, and he had time to take notice that it was the professor's assistant whom he had rescued from the second rider.

"Are you alright, Miss?

"Lusk, Egeria Lusk. You're going after them," she said. It was more a command than a question.

* * * * *

The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 1

The Voyage of the Minotaur

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# Encyclopedia of

# The Sorceress and the Dragon

Accord Banner

The Accord Banner of Greater Brechalon is the national flag. It is red, white, and blue.

Accord Day

The most important non-religious celebration in Brechalon, Accord Day celebrates the anniversary of the unification of Greater Brechalon. It usually features fireworks and outdoor activities.

Acorn, S.S.

A large Freedonian freighter, the S.S. Acorn carried the first group of Zaeri refugees from Freedonia to Birmisia. It later made several other such voyages.

Académie Argei

The premier school of wizardry in Brechalon, the Académie Argei is north of the Great City.

Achillobator

A huge predatory Birmisian bird, the achillobator greatly resembles the utahraptor, but is covered in crimson feathers. Unlike utahraptors, which hunt in pairs, achollobators can be found in large packs. They are found in the hilly interior regions of Birmisia.

Admeta March, Milliner

An expensive supplier of ladies' hats and wigs, this shop is located in Brech City on Avenue Peacock.

Adventures of the S.S. Flying Fish, The

_The Adventures of the S.S. Flying Fish_ is the published journal of Brech biologist Tzuriel Brownworth, detailing his journeys through the Mullien Islands and describing the unusual fauna and flora encountered there.

Adventures in an Unexplored Land

A pulp adventure novel by Rikkard Banks Tatum, _Adventures in an Unexplored Land_ is one of several tales of adventure hero Ryne Nance.

Agria, Sable

Noted Brech author, Sable Agria is best known for the novels _Light of the Moon_ , _Virgins in the Spring_ , _A Marriage of Purpose_ , _Song of Seven Secrets_ , and _Three Marks for a Pfennig_. She is considered a mainstream and her works are considered an important part of Brech education, though perhaps a bit too racy to be appropriate for ladies.

Akkas

An almost mythical civilization along the west coast of Sumir, Akkas may have predated Donnata and Argrathia. It disappeared about -3700.

Amorazine

Amorazine is a love potion brewed by wizards or sorcerers.

And God Looked Down and Smiled

A novel by Momone Lathan, translated to Brech from Mirsannan.

Andreasen, Marcus

A Mirsannan-Brech author, Andreasen wrote many short stories, but only one novel: _The Silver Pendulum_.

Ankylosaurus

Ankylosaurus is a dinosaur common in Birmisia. It is about 20 feet in length and weighs up to 6 tons. It has a low-slung body and is quadrupedal, with the hind limbs longer than the forelimbs. Ankylosaurus is herbivorous, with small, leaf-shaped teeth suitable for cropping vegetation. They are often found traveling in the company of Iguanodon herds.

Ansegdniss, Palace of

The Palace of Ansegdniss is located at the end of Crown Street in Brech City, just south of Saint Admeta Park. Originally built as a royal residence, for the past 250 years, it has been the official meeting place of the Parliament of the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon.

Anurognathus

Anurognathus is a small species of pterosaur common throughout Sumir. In Brech City, it is common for people to feed them breadcrumbs in Hexagon Park.

Ape Cult, The

The Ape Cult is one of Encleps many organizations dedicated to worshipping animal spirits. The Ape Cult also practices human sacrifice and frequently attacks and kidnaps outsiders for these rituals.

Archero, Kingdom of

Archero was a kingdom on the west coast of Sumir from about -1100 until -168. Archero was the first to apply themes from the Zaeri religion to great architectural, literary, and artistic works. It was this, which so impressed King Marius of Zur, that he engineered the unification of Zur and Archero.

Argrathia (Argrath)

One of the world's oldest cultures, Argrathia dates from about -7600. Dominating the southeast portion of Sumir, on the shores of Lake Gar, it had expanded to an empire 1,000 miles wide by -6300. The New Kingdom of Argrath began about -5900, when a series of kings spread their culture to its greatest extent. Argrathia then began a long, slow decline. After the death of King Magnus in year 7, Argrathia reformed as one of the Zur successor states. In 27, Kafirism became the dominant religion in Argrathia.

Argrathian Checkers

Argrathian checkers is a strategy board game, which can be played by two, three, four, or six people, playing individually or with partners. The objective is to be first to race one's pieces across the hexagram-shaped gameboard into "home"—the corner of the star opposite one's starting corner—using single-step moves or moves which jump over other pieces. Like other skill-based games, Argrathian checkers involves strategy. The rules are simple, so even young children can play. Despite the name, Argrathian checkers was not invented in Argrathia, but comes originally from Freedonia.

Arps, Robinson

The author of half a dozen novels, Arps is today remembered mostly for _Mirsannan Pastoral_.

Arch of Conquest

A large triumphal arch at the edge of the Old City on Prince Tybalt Boulevard.

Army, Royal Brechalon

The Royal Brechalon Army is the land warfare branch of the Brech Armed Forces of the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon. It came into being with the unification of the Brechalon Islands in 1707. The Royal Brechalon Army wears uniforms of blue for artillery, red for infantry, or in the case of cavalry, of khaki and blue.

Arrow, S.S.

The flagship of the Arrow Cruise Lines, Arrow and its sister ship, Comet, were later bought out by Merchant and Shannon Cruise Lines. Arrow assisted the rescuing of survivors after the sinking of the S.S. Mistress of Brechbay.

Arsvold, Raamaya

A Skagian writer of the 17th century, Arvold is known for his only work translated to Brech: _The Fury of the Mountain_.

Augustus P. Dechantagne Park

Augustus P. Dechantagne Park is located on the peninsula in Port Dechantagne and is named for the young officer killed by a lizzie spear in the Battle of Suusthek. If features a statue of the aforementioned Augustus P. Dechantagne, a gazebo, a copse of shade trees, and an open area where children and adults often play sporting games.

Avenue Boar

The center of the banking and finance industry in Brech City, Avenue Boar is lined with great marble edifices housing the stock markets and lending houses. One may also find here businesses which hire out servants to aristocratic Brech families.

Avenue Dragon

Several blocks north of Avenue Phoenix, Avenue Dragon is lined with large buildings—government offices, corporate headquarters, and ancient aristocratic homes. Number One, Avenue Dragon is the address of the Dechantagne house.

Avenue Hart

A major street in Brech City. The most famous feature of Avenue Hart is the Great Church of the Holy Savior.

Avenue Peacock

Avenue Peacock is a major street in Brech City. It is the location of many exclusive shops that feature personalized shopping.

Avenue Phoenix

One of the major streets in Brech City, Avenue Phoenix runs from the Great Plaza to Hexagon Park and is lined with shops of every variety.

Avenue Royal

One of the major streets in Brech City, Avenue Royal runs on the west side of Saint Admeta Park. Avenue Royal is lined by numerous monuments, as well as Sinceree Palace.

Axemom

Axemom (-1660 to -1592) was a Priest-King of Neo-Zaerphon, and the High Priest of the Zaeri. He oversaw the construction of the Temple of Axemom in the city of Nurix.

Axemom, Temple of

The great temple built primarily during the reign of Axemom, the Priest-King, it was the center of the Zaeri religion from-1500 to about -500. Magnus the Great ordered it restored after his visit in -31. The temple, along with the city of Nurix, was destroyed in 88 by the Rundarians.

Bad Syke

A town near Friedaport in Freedonia.

Ballar

Though little is known of its beginnings, by -6000, Ballar was an expanding empire in the northwest corner of Sumir. Ballar maintained trade with many other civilizations and its culture became quite diluted, taking on the traits of neighboring civilizations. About -2600, the Ballar Slave Class overran the Ballar ruling class. The resulting Kingdom of Zaerphon bore little resemblance to its predecessor. Stories of a class of warrior-priestess are common, but probably more legend than fact.

Bamport

A deep-water port and airship base for the Kingdom of Freedonia, Bamport was located on a small island north of Enclep.

Bangdorf

Capital of Freedonia, Bangdorf is a city of nearly two million. The original city predates Freedonia, having been established about 520. Upon selection as the capital in 1794, a massive rebuilding project was begun that continued to the present.

Barnyard, The

_The Barnyard_ is a novel by Willam Hormby in which the farmer and his family are captured and put on trial by the animals of the farm. Eventually the animals kill and eat the humans and then turn on each other.

Battle Creek

A small stream just west of Port Dechantagne, Battle Creek is named because it was the location of a battle between the sorceress Zurfina and wizard Suvir Kesi.

Bentin

Bentin is a small city in Greater Brechalon in the County of Cordwell. It is chiefly known for the Royal Military Base located just beyond the edge of the city.

Beer

Beer is an alcoholic beverage produced by the saccharification of starch and fermentation of the resulting sugar. The starch and saccharification enzymes are often derived from malted cereal grains, most commonly malted barley and malted wheat. Most beer is also flavored with hops, which add bitterness and act as a natural preservative, though other flavorings such as herbs or fruit may occasionally be included. The preparation of beer is called brewing. There are dozens of brands of beer produced in Greater Brechalon, but this number is dwarfed by the varieties found in Freedonia. Beer is less common in Mirsanna, where wine drinking is much more prevalent.

Billingbow's

Billingbow's Sarsaparilla and Wintergreen Soda Water is a soft drink produced in Brech City. The syrup is mixed with sparkling water and bottled. Billingbow's syrup is shipped to Freedonia, Mallontah, and Birmisia, where it is mixed and sold. Billingbow's is a favorite of Saba Colbshallow. Ssissiatok (Cissy) was also fond of the drink, though it is not particularly popular among lizardmen.

Bird Feet

One of a variety of species of violet, Bird Feet are common in Enclep.

Birmisia

The northeastern portion of the continent of Mallon, Birmisia covers an area of about 8 million square miles and is considered a subcontinent in its own right. Home to hundreds of lizardman settlements and several large cities, it is sparsely settled by human beings—the one notable exception being Brechalon's Birmisia Colony. Most of Birmisia falls in the temperate climate range.

Birmisia Colony

A Brech Colony in Birmisia, Mallon, Birmisia Colony was founded in 1899 by the three Dechantagne siblings and is centered on the city of Port Dechantagne.

Blackbottom

Also known as The Bottom, Blackbottom is a section of Brech City built on land sloping down toward the River Thiss. Besides thousands of two- and three-story houses that all seem to be either leaning toward the river because of the sloping land or leaning in the other direction in hopes of countering the slope, there are countless seedy pubs, sordid meeting houses, and hidden drug dens in Blackbottom.

Black Pudding

Black pudding, blood pudding, or blood sausage is a type of sausage made by cooking blood or dried blood with a filler until it is thick enough to congeal when cooled.

Blessudine

A potion prepared by wizards and sorcerers, Blessudine is essentially a happiness potion, and is often referred to as such.

Bloomers

One of several types of divided women's garments for the lower body.

Bonaventura, Abel

A writer from Borazon, Bonaventura is known for his novels _Who Lived in My House?_ and _Bring Me My Life_.

Bonnano, Lan

Brech writer Lan Bonnano is best known for his novels _Death and Destruction_ and _Fiora Kirsen_.

Bonne Nourriture

Bonne Nourriture is a restaurant in Port Dechantagne notable primarily for two features, the first being a chef from Mirsanna, and the second being that unlike Port Dechantagne's other fine dining establishments, it uses lizzie wait staff.

Booth, Duchy of

The Duchy of Booth is located on the northern corner of the island of Mirilon and is one of 66 political divisions within the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon.

Bordonia

A medium-sized modern country wedged between Borazon and Freedonia, with characteristics of both of those countries.

Borazon, Kingdom of

A large country south of Freedonia, Borazon was formed as a successor state to Magnus's Empire of the Zur. The modern Borazon encompasses only the eastern portion of the original kingdom. Borazon converted to Kafirism about 160. The Borazonian language is closely related to Freedonian and the two counties share many other cultural traits.

Bormass

Bormass was an ancient culture occupying the horn of Sumir from about -2000 to about -1500. It has been speculated that the Bormass originated on Enclep, because of a similarity of artwork. Little remains of Bormass, except for massive carvings of animals found throughout their land. The largest of these is Numateme, an entire mountain carved into the shape of a lion.

Boxstein

A town near Friedaport in Freedonia.

Brech (The Great City)

Brech City is the capital of the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon. It is the largest city in the world, with a population of more than four million. Tradition holds that Magnus the Great laid out the city himself in year -6.

Brech Mallontah

(See Mallontah.)

Brechalon

The large island upon which Brech City resides, it is the center of the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon. Brechalon is roughly circular, approximately 500 miles in diameter.

Brechalon (Ancient)

The civilization of Brechalon was a military empire. The discovery of an ancient fortress on the Island of Greater Brechalon is what gives the Brechalonians their name, though it was later determined to be only an outpost and the bulk of the empire was in fact, on eastern coast of what is today Mirsanna. The Brechalonians pioneered iron weapons, and defeated Donnata about -4600.

Brech by Starlight

A romantic novel by Cathal Parvis.

Brech's Islands

A historical novel that follows the development of the Kingdom of Greater Brechalon, _Brech's Islands_ is one of the most popular foreign novels in the Brech language.

Brech Stories

A popular collection of short stories by Baumgarten Glines.

Breeding Booksellers

A small bookstore on Avenue Phoenix in Brech City, Breeding Booksellers is noted for procuring hard-to-find editions. Terrence Dechantagne purchased a copy of Kazia Garstone's _Revenge_ at Breeding.

The Bribe

_The Bribe_ is a novel by Chirem Gynn that tells the story of a police constable whose life crumbles around him after he accepts a bribe from a drug dealer.

Bring Me My Life

A novel by Abel Bonaventura, _Bring Me My Life_ tells the story of a man returning from six months of living in a coma to find himself replaced by a man who has married his wife and adopted his children.

Broken Tooth

A novel by Wadsworth Dietle, _Broken Tooth_ is the story of a dog that must choose to stay with humans or join a wolf pack. It is the only book by Dietle that is as popular in Brech as it is in Freedonian.

Brownworth, Tzuriel

A Brech biologist and medical doctor, Tzuriel Brownworth best known for his Theory of Evolution, developed during his journey to the Mullien Islands as detailed in _The Adventures of the S.S. Flying Fish_.

Brysin's Weekly Ladies' Journal

A popular magazine published in Brech, _Brysin's Weekley Ladies' Journal_ is the most popular of a new variety of publication featuring news on fashion and etiquette.

Buitreraptor

Buiteraptors are a rather small species of Birmisian predatory bird. They are bout three feet in length and about a foot tall. The buitreraptor has a slender, flat, extremely elongated snout with many small teeth that lack meat-tearing serrations or cutting edges and are grooved, strongly recurved and flattened. It is not a hunter of relatively large animals, but rather a hunter of small animals such as lizards and mammals. The forelimbs of Buitreraptor are long and end in hands with three fingers.

Burson, Tracy

A Brech novelist and proponent of conservation.

Bustle

A bustle is a type of framework used to expand the fullness or support the drapery of the back of a woman's dress. Bustles are worn under the skirt in the back, just below the waist, to keep the skirt from dragging. Heavy fabric tended to pull the back of a skirt down and flatten it. Thus, a woman's petticoated or crinolined skirt would lose its shape, making her behind look flat and unappealing. Since their introduction in Mirsanna, bustles have become synonymous with the fashion, and continue to increase in size.

Butzbach

A small coastal town in Freedonia.

Café Carlo

Café Carlo has been a popular dining spot in the Great Plaza of Brech City for almost three hundred years, though the name has changed repeatedly during that time. It is a relatively expensive, high-class establishment under the proprietorship of Carlo Byrd. Prior to that, it was known as Café Renee. After the death of Carlo Byrd, it became Francesco's Café.

Café Renee

(see Café Carlo)

Camora

A country in southern Sumir, Camora became independent from the Zur Empire in 995. Today, Camora is a relatively poor nation, though it is reaping the benefits of trade alliances with Greater Brecahlon.

Canals

Canals is a trick-taking game using a standard 52-card deck. It is played by four players in two competing partnerships, with partners sitting opposite each other around a table. Canals is played worldwide in clubs, tournaments, and with friends at home, making it one of the world's most popular card games, particularly among seniors.

Carriage, Steam-powered

Steam-powered cars have almost completely replaced horse-drawn cars throughout Brechalon. There are a variety of sizes and configurations of steam cars, as there were horse-drawn varieties. Most have the furnace, boiler, and firebox located in the rear.

Cartonia

A continent in the southern hemisphere.

Children of the Streets

The most popular book by Maddchen Schaub, _Children of the Streets_ tells the story of orphaned street urchin.

Church of Kafira

The Church of Kafira, also known as the Holy Kafirite Church, is the worldly organization of Kafira's followers. It is among the oldest institutions in the world and has played a prominent role in the history of Western civilization. The Church hierarchy is led by the Pope and includes Cardinals, Patriarchs, and Bishops. The Church teaches that it is the one true church, divinely founded by Kafira Kristos that its bishops are the successors of Kafira's apostles and that the Pope is the sole successor to Saint Ulixes who has apostolic primacy. The Church maintains that the doctrine on faith and morals that it presents as definitive is infallible. There are a variety of doctrinal and theological emphases within the Church, including the Southern Kafirite Churches, the personal ordinariates and religious communities such as the Egerians, the Julienites and the Lamarans. The Kafirite Church is Trinitarian and defines its mission as spreading the Gospel of Kafira Kristos, administering the sacraments, and exercising charity. Kafirite worship is highly liturgical, focusing on the Mass or Divine Liturgy during which the sacrament of the Eucharist is celebrated. The Church teaches that bread and wine used during the Mass become the body and blood of Kafira through transubstantiation. The Church practices closed communion and only baptized members of the Church in a state of grace are ordinarily permitted to receive the Eucharist. Kafirite social teaching emphasizes support for the sick, the poor, and the afflicted through the corporal works of mercy. The Kafirite Church is the largest provider of education and medical services in the world. Kafirite spiritual teaching emphasizes spread of the Gospel message and growth in spiritual discipline through the spiritual works of mercy.

Chusstuss

A lizzie city near Port Dechantagne in Brech Birmisia, Chusstuss was responsible for one of the most devastating attacks on human beings in the region.

Citizen's Safety Award

The Citizen's Safety Award is given to citizens of Brech City who display Brech pluck and bravery in bringing lawbreakers to justice.

Cold Soldiers

A book by Isaak Wissinger.

Comet, S.S.

A sleek passenger ship, originally part of the Arrow Cruise Lines, but later bought by Merchant and Shannon.

Contico Boulevard

A major thoroughfare in Brech City, Contico Boulevard runs from Hexagon park to the edge of Blackbottom.

Contracting Universe, The

_The Contracting Universe_ , at 653 pages, is the shortest scientific work by Phoebus Dodson. In it he proves that the universe is in a constant state of contraction that will eventually force it all into a tiny dense mass the size of a cricket ball.

Cordwell

The County of Cordwell is one of 66 regional divisions within The United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon. Cordwell is the location of the city of Bentin and the nearby Royal Military Base. It sits on the eastern coast of the island of Brechalon.

Crescent Bay

Crescent Bay is a small but deep-water bay next to which the settlement of Port Dechantagne was established in Brech Birmisa. Formed by the erosion of softer materials next to a rocky peninsula, the bay is now protected from the ocean surf and remains calm almost all year.

Cricket

Cricket is a bat-and-ball game played between two teams of 11 players on a roughly circular field, at the center of which is a rectangular 22-yard long pitch. Each team takes it in turn to bat, in which they attempt to accumulate as many runs as possible, while the other team fields, attempting to prevent the batting team scoring runs. Teams may bat once or twice each depending upon the format of the game. Each turn is known as an inning. The game progresses as one member of the fielding team known as the bowler delivers the ball to the batsman down the length of the pitch. The batsman then attempts to strike the ball with his bat in order so that the ball either reaches the boundary or enables him to run to the other end of the pitch and thus accumulate runs. The batsman may continue batting until he is dismissed. Once ten batsmen from the batting side have been dismissed, the team is said to be all out and the two teams change roles.

Cricket, Mirsannan

Mirsannan Cricket is a variety of cricket played by children, usually in poorer neighborhoods, in which they use ad-hoc materials and locations for play.

Crown Street

Crown Street is a thoroughfare in Brech City just south of Saint Admeta Park. The Palace of Ansegdniss is at the end of Crown Street, while along its length are the homes of the King's ministers. Number 3 is the home of the Lord Treasurer. Number 4 is the home of the Second Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer. Number 7 is the home of the Foreign Minister. Number 8 is the home of the Judge Advocate General. Number 14 is the home of the Prime Minister.

Daglars, The

The Daglars are a mountain chain in south Borazon, famed as the home of the vicious gharhast ape.

Dallar

A country on the northwestern tip of Sumir, Dallar was originally a successor state of Magnus the Great. Most people of Dallar speak both Zurian and Mirsannan. Dallar adopted Kafirism as its official religion in 160.

Dallaman, Empire of

The Dallaman Empire began as a relatively unimportant part of Zaerphon which began expanding as Zaerphon broke apart (-1800). Dallaman established new artforms and architectural styles and fought a series of wars against Tu-Riven. Dallaman was still a distinctive society when conquered by Magnus the Great (-42).

Dartmouth, S.S.

One of the smaller Brech cargo ships traveling to Mallon.

Darwin's Emporium

From the establishment of Port Dechantagne until its proprietor's death, Darwin's Emporium was a seller and exporter of a variety of products made with dinosaur hide. Because of this, it was a popular stop for tourists to Birmisia, and maintained extensive trade relations with many of the surrounding lizzie villages.

DeAlonzo, Arjen

A popular Mirsannan novelist.

Death and Destruction

A massive novel by Lan Bonnano, _Death and Destruction_ tells the story of a doomed family and their last six generations. It is the longest novel that most people in Brechalon have ever heard of.

Death in Brech, A

_A Death in Brech_ is a novel by Garson Hoek that tells the story of the disenfranchised working class in Brech City.

Decius

Decius is the tenth month of the modern reformed calendar. Like all the months except Hamonth, it has 30 days.

Decimark

A gold ten-mark coin of the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon. The obverse features an image of King Tybalt and the reverse a cross wreathed in laurels.

Derby, The

_The Derby_ is a novel by Twyla Gaskell set in modern Brech City.

Desperation's Daughter

The best-known work of Isaak Wissinger.

DeRemillard, E.R.

A Mirsannan author who writes extensively about Brechalon.

Derich, Kingdom of

Splitting away from Rundaria in 544, Derich combined with Rundarr (Rundaria) and Lowess in 1794 to form Freedonia.

Detoxicant

A detoxicant is a mixture produced by priests which counteracts poison. Some versions of detoxicants are created by chemists without the aid of spiritual magic, but these tend to be less potent.

Detsky, Ebrahim

A Zaeri Brech writer, Ebrahim Detsky is best known for his novels _Night of the Snake_ and _Rabbits Under the Fence_.

Diary of a Photographer, The

A book by Dorrit Quinn that follows a photographer named Byric, in his travels across Brechalon.

Dietle, Wadsworth

A Freedonian writer, Wadsworth Dietle is best known for his tales of nature and the struggle of man against nature. Many of his title characters are animals.

Dionoserin

Dionoserin is a potion of mind control brewed by sorcerers and wizards.

Disposal, The

A book by Maddchen Schaub highlighting the abuses of modern orphanages.

Doctor and Priest

A detective story by Umeko Mahanian.

Dodson, Phoebus

A seventeenth century physicist and mathematician, Phoebus Dodson's books form the core of scientific education from students from Brechalon to Freedonia. Though his writing is considered stuffy, his scientific theories were a hundred years ahead of their time.

Doggie Doggie

Doggie Doggie is a game played by children with a stick (as a bone). Once child plays the part of the dog, while the others hide the bone. The children sing "Doggie, doggie, where's your bone," while the dog tries to find it.

Doglon

An ancient civilization at the southern tip of Sumir, Doglon was culturally related to the Olgon. Doglon was never united, consisting of small states that vied with each other for power. They cleared the dense jungle to create their cities and extensive tracts of land for farming. About -2300, they were overthrown by one of their subject races—the Ixec.

Donnata

The ancient land founded approximately -7000 along the northern coast of modern Freedonia, Donnata was originally a group of quarreling city-states. United under an emperor about -5000, Donnata ushered in the Bronze Age. Few of their cities remain, though a great deal of pottery and statuary has been preserved in museums.

Donstan, Rablo

A Xygian poet.

Dormouse, S.S.

The S.S. Dormouse is a modern Brech cargo ship hired by the Dechantagne family to bring additional supplies and colonists to Birmisia. It made several such trips during the first years of the Brech colony there.

Dorridgeville

Dorridgeville is a large town at the northern tip of the Duchy of Booth on Mirilon. Dorridgeville is the stopping off point for adventurers and soldiers of fortune on their way to Enclep and beyond.

Dragon

Dragons are immense creatures of magic. They superficially resemble reptiles and are covered with scales. Dragons however are hot-blooded, with body temperatures approaching 120 degrees. Dragons are primarily carnivorous but can eat practically anything. They have such a perfect digestive system that they have no need to exude waste. There are several different varieties of dragon, including Gold, Silver, Flame, Green, Night, Steel, and Coral. Dragons can breathe fire and possess a secondary breath weapon which varies according to the species. Dragons are extremely long-lived, essentially immortal, and are worshipped as gods by primitive cultures around the world. They are extremely intelligent and often are able to cast magic spells. Dragon eggs have no set gestation period and may survive for centuries before hatching. Upon hatching dragons are usually about 24 inches in length. Dragons never stop growing and very old dragons may reach almost unbelievable sizes.

Driconda

Driconda was a civilization that rose in the arid valleys of southwest Sumir. The Driconda culture may date back to -6500. About -3200, they consolidated into an empire ruled by a Sun King. Around -2100, a mountain people called the Olgon conquered Driconda.

Dromaeosaur

A smaller cousin to the velociraptor, dromaeosaurs are about six feet in length, weighing about 15 pounds. They feature bright red heads and breasts and black feathers across their backs, with white wingtips. Dromaeosaurs are more commonly found inland from the coast.

Drum, The

A novel by Isaak Wissinger.

Durcy Square

A popular gathering place for dealers of magical artifacts, Durcy Square is located just off Prince Tybalt Boulevard in Brech City. It is a gathering place for hedge wizards seeking employment.

East of Enclep

A book by Shia Toler, for most Brech readers, _East of Enclep_ was their first introduction to Mallon.

East Wills

One of four district areas in the city of Redgepool.

Ebon Forest, S.S.

A massive black freighter from Freedonia, the Ebon Forest assisted in the rescue of victims from the sinking of the S.S. Mistress of Brechbay.

Eclipse

An eclipse is an astronomical event that occurs when an astronomical object is temporarily obscured, either by passing into the shadow of another body or by having another body pass between it and the viewer. The term eclipse is most often used to describe either a solar eclipse, when the Moon's shadow crosses the Earth's surface, or a lunar eclipse, when the Moon moves into the Earth's shadow. Both types of eclipses can enhance the power of magic cast beneath them, though a solar eclipse will do so to a much greater extent than a lunar eclipse.

Eidechse

The Freedonian word for Lizardmen is Eidechse.

Enclep

The island of Enclep is more than twelve hundred miles long and three hundred fifty miles wide at its thickest point. The northern reaches, which are the only portions of the island visited by ships from Sumir, are lined with white sandy beaches everywhere except the rocky outcropping of the deep-water port that the Royal Brechalon Navy had leased from the natives for its use. The interior of the island holds vast rain forests of tropical plants and tall sweeping palm trees and is filled with all manner of natural treasures. The brown-skinned natives in the north live simple lives of hunting, gathering, and trading with the visiting ships. They worship animal spirits, particularly whales. The south is dominated by a number of feudal kingdoms. Strong cults devoted to a single animal spirit are the norm here. Enclep is the source of White Opthalium. Most tea imported to Sumir comes from Enclep.

Essenbad, L.Z.

One of Freedonia's fleet of massive airships, the Essenbad patrolled the northern seas around Enclep.

Farm Life

A novel by Abban Keiman.

Festuary

Festuary is the second month of the modern reformed calendar. It is a month of Festivals for the Kafirite religion. Like all the months except Hamonth, it has 30 days.

Fez

The fez or tarboosh is a felt hat in the shape of a truncated cone. The fez is popular is Mirsanna.

Finkler's Bakery

A bakery and eating establishment opened in 1902 in Port Dechantagne, Birmisia by Mrs. Ada Finkler and her son Aalwijn, Finkler's Bakery was the sole location in which to purchase bread in the new colony for several years. Finkler's features Freedonian cuisine, with limited seating both inside and outside. In 1905, the bakery became the cornerstone of a restaurant empire when Aalwijn Finkler, now in control of the establishment, opened three new cafes in the city.

Fiora Kirssen

A short novel by Lan Bonnano, _Fiora Kirssen_ tells the story of a country girl and her arrival and eventual ruin in the Great City.

FireBox

The portion of a steam carriage which contains the flames that heat water to produce steam, the firebox is fueled with coal shoveled from the adjacent coal bin.

First Royal Charter Back of Greater Brechalon, The

The largest and richest financial institution in Brechalon and the world.

Fishing Nets, The

A novel by E.R. DeRemillard, _The Fishing Nets_ tells the story of a fictional fishing town on the southern Brech coast.

Flander

A small city on the southern coast of Brechalon, some 400 miles south by southeast of Brech City, Flander is chiefly a shipping and fishing town. Zurfina attempts to catch a train to Flander after being targeted by the Ministry of War but is captured at the train station.

Flottenluftskorps

The Freedonian Flottenluftskorps is a division of the navy that operates their airship fleet. At the height of its operations, the Flottenluftskorps operated over 100 large dirigibles. Ratings in the korps wore traditional white naval uniforms, while the officers wore unique black uniforms.

Football

Football is a sport played between two teams of typically eleven players, though other variations in player numbers such as 5 and 7 are also played, with a spherical ball. The game is played on a rectangular field of grass, with a goal in the middle of each of the short ends. The object of the game is to score by kicking the ball into the opposing goal. Football is more popular on the continent of Sumir than in Greater Brechalon.

Forlond

A region of Mirsanna famed for its fine fabrics.

Fort Tharbin

A large military fort on Isle de Fortann in the Thiss River, Fort Tharbin bristels with massive guns and is the primary protection of Brech City from marauders arriving by river.

Fostbeck Sandwich

A sandwich named for the Brech city of Fostbeck, the Fostbeck Sandwich is popular in Brechalon and Freedonia. It consists of corned beef on rye bread, with stone ground mustard. In Freedonia it usually included sour kraut, instead of sautéed onions, as is usually found in Brechalon.

Francesco's Café

(See Café Carlo.)

Freedman, Anarosa

One of the most popular female Freedonian writers, Anarosa Freedman produced numerous essays and short stories, but only one novel— _Intruder_. Her writing is popular for its lascivious nature.

Friedaport

The major port in northeast Freedonia.

Froredor

A froredor is a magical icebox. If functions like other iceboxes, keeping food cool, though it never requires blocks of ice.

Frylander Owena

A Freedonian author, Owena Frylander is known for two small novels: _White Sea_ and _Wise Men_.

Fury of the Mountain, The

Required reading for all Brech boys, _The Fury of the Mountain_ by Raamya Arsvold tells the story of a primitive tribe living on the edge of a glacier that survive a series of disasters. Originally popular because of the courage and determination of the characters in the story, many modern readers now see it as a demonstration of the difficulties of a non-technological life.

Gabrielle, S.S.

A medium-sized Brech cargo ship.

Garstone, Kasia

Perhaps the most influential writer in modern Brechalon, Kasia Garstone has written dozens of realistic novels, all of which expose the excesses and social problems of Brech society. Though frequently denounced as a socialist, she remains widely read and early editions of her books are highly sought by collectors.

Gartow

A city of about 40,000 in southern central Freedonia, Gartow was the location of the Zurelendsviertel ghetto, where as many as 100,000 Zaeri were forced into a squalid portion of the town and then were walled in and virtually starved. Zurfina rescued Isaak Wissinger from Gartow.

Gaskell, Twyla

Twyla Gaskell is a relatively popular Brech author.

Gharhast Ape

Growing up to nine feet tall and weighing as much as 700 lbs., the gharhast ape is the most feared creature in Sumir. It stands upright and has humanoid hands but possesses ferocious fangs. Due to its habitat in the rugged Daglar Mountains, it is also one of the few large creatures on Sumir which have not been hunted completely to extinction.

Ghetto

A ghetto is a part of a city in which members of a minority group live, especially because of social, legal, or economic pressure. Prior to the Brech-Freedonian War, ethnic Zaeri were forced into a number of ghettos, the most notorious of which was Zurelendsviertel.

Glamour

A glamour is a magical spell cast by either a wizard or a sorcerer and saved for later use. The ability to cast glamours is a fairly high-level ability and usually marks a master of the magic craft, or at least a skilled journeyman. Invisible to most, glamours can be seen by other high-level magic-users.

Glines, Baumgarten

Baumgarten Glines is a Freedonian writer who emigrated to Brechalon. He is famous for his witty and usually light-hearted short stories.

Gorgosaurus

Sometimes called the "coastal gorgosaurus," the gorgosaurus is a smaller cousin of tyrannosaurus, with much the same body shape. Gorgosaurus females are larger and more ferocious than the male, but even they seldom reach more than 25 feet in length.

Gorgosaurus are dark brown, with vertical stripes of olive to light brown on their flanks.

Government, The

A novel by Willam Hormby, _The Government_ tells the story of a futuristic world, in which all thought and emotion is controlled.

Grace, Walter

Walter Grace is a Brech writer who focuses on the aristocratic upper crust.

Grand Scriptures, The

(See Holy Scriptures.)

Gravity and Light

The seminal text on the topics by Phoebus Dodson.

Great and Greater Brechalon

A book by Orion Weevoc.

Great City Opera House, The

The Great City Opera House is located in the center of Brech City. The venue was built some 210 years ago, and which is officially named the Prince Cassius Opera House, is the largest such structure in Greater Brechalon. Ballets and concerts, as well as operas are performed there.

Greater Brechalon

The name associated with the island of Brechalon, and its five sister islands—Erechon, Mirilon, Borus, Ambis, and Phyris. Greater Brechalon is sometimes used to reference the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon.

Great Church of the Holy Savior, The

The largest Kafirite Church in Brechalon, The Great Church of the Holy Savior is located on Avenue Hart at the corner of Contico Boulevard.

Green Hills

_Green Hills_ is a novel by Twyla Gaskell set in the rural Brech countryside.

Groschen

The basic currency of Freedonia, the groschen was originally roughly equal to ½ Brech mark, but toward the end of the century, inflation in Freedonia drove the value of its currency down.

Gryptosaurus

An iguanadon-like dinosaur of Birmisa, the gryptosaurus live inland and away from the coast.

Guma

An ape-god-spirit worshipped by one of the larger cults in southern Enclep.

Gynn, Chirem

A Brech author with a single popular work: _The Bribe_.

Hamonth

Hamonth is the thirteenth month of the modern reformed calendar. Unlike the other months, Hamonth has only 15 days—making it literally a "half month" and giving it its name. It is considered bad luck to begin a journey in Hamonth. Hamonth 2nd is the first day of Winter.

Harold I

First king of Greater Brechalon, Harold I was crowned in 461 and died six years later.

Hathastor

Hathastor was a blended culture (about -2000) that combined elements of the Olgon and ancient Ballar. Ruled by numerous local warlords, with only loose political ties, Hathastor is chiefly remembered for their fortifications, with were mostly pillaged by the Zurians for building materials.

Hecken

Hecken Arms Co. is the largest Freedonian weapons manufacturer, producing everything from battleship deck guns to zeppelins. The .30 caliber Hecken '98 is the standard issue rifle for the Freedonian Army.

Healing Draught

One of the most common forms of magic available, healing draughts are created by the clergy of Kafira as well as wizards, sorcerers, and various lay-potion makers. Most healing draughts can cure simple wounds such as cuts, scrapes, and burns. Occasionally, exceptional healing draughts may cure more serious injuries such as gun shot wounds. Healing draughts have little effect against internal injuries or broken bones and are ineffective against disease, poisons, or curses. The availability of healing draughts has lowered their price so that even the relatively poor in Brechalon may have one on hand.

Heart of Wind

A novel by Mirsannan writer Giridhara Rall, _Heart of Wind_ was originally published in the writer's home country, but it has become far more popular in Brechalon.

Hedge Wizards

Hedge Wizards are magic users who cast spells in the traditional way of wizards, using mathematics, but who have had little or no formal training.

Hedrick, Angana

A writer popular in Freedonia, but relatively unknown in Brechalon.

Hoek, Garson

A contemporary Brech writer, Garson Hoek has written numerous new stories and essays and one successful novel: _A Death in Brech_.

Holy Scriptures, The

The Holy Scriptures of the Zaeri (known to the Kafirites as The Grand Scriptures) are the holy book of the Zaeri religion and one half of the holy book of the Kafirites. The scriptures contain 52 books, which are in order: Creation, Odyssey, Discovery, The Old Prophets, The Stars, The Laws, The Kings, The Writings of Nom, The Letter of Nom, The Middle Prophets, The Children of Nom, First Book of Odes, Second Book of Odes, Third Book of Odes, The Book of Corruption, The New Prophets, The Book of Transformation, The Book of Enchantment, Lydna, The Book of Divining, Mobius, The Mysteries, The Book of Abjuration, The Book of Conjuration, Fasser, The Book of Evocation, The Illusions, The Writings of Atar, The Wisdom of Atar, Pastoral, Chozai, Lamentations, Varinda, The Apocalypse of Atar-Zu, The Letters of Atar-Zu, Sibellene, Idwal, Garilala, Dinesh, Carniella, Abahu, The Book of Devices, The Book of Quests, Sheliya, Sheliya's Quest, Sheliya's years, (Sheliya's) Errands, The Last Prophets, Yoel, Zaccazius, The Winged Ones, The Song of King Magnus.

Honey, Do You Love Me

Honey, Do You Love Me is an outdoor game played by children in Brechalon. Players form a circle with one player in the middle, who is designated "it." The middle person must approach players in the circle and ask, "Honey, do you love me?" The person being questioned must answer, "Honey, I love you, but I just can't smile." If he or she does smile or laugh, he or she becomes "it" and the previous middle person joins the circle. The person who is "it" is not allowed to touch other players but may make as many funny faces as he wishes.

Hormby, Willam

Willam Hormby is the pseudonym of an unknown author, famous for several works of satirical fiction.

Humboldt's Fine Toys

A toy shop located on Avenue Phoenix at the corner of Prince Tybalt Boulevard.

Hume, Delia

A Brech writer of the last century, her writing is considered pedantic by modern Brech readers.

Iguanodon

Iguanodons are the most common Birmisian dinosaur. They are bulky herbivores that shift from bipedality to quadrupedality. They average about 3 tons and 30 feet long for adults, with rare specimens up to 45 feet long. They have large narrow skulls and toothless duckbill mouths, and range in color from olive green to reddish-brown. Iguanodons live in herds of 20 to 100 individuals.

Iguanodon Heath

Located ten miles west of Port Dechantagne in Brech Birmisia, Iguanodon Heath is a large open plain where visitors can see vast herds of dinosaurs. Famous for the large numbers of iguanodon, the heath is also home to large groups of saltasaurus, triceratops, and ankylasaurs.

Importance of Pleasing the Misses, The

A play by Leda Stolz, filled with sexual innuendo, _The Importance of Pleasing the Misses_ has seen little time on stage, but is quite popular in Brechalon in book form.

In Search of the Rainbow

A book of poetry by Leda Schraam.

Inspector Doddley

The fictional hero of a series of short detective stories, including _The Curse of the Two Brothers_ , _The Golden Monkey_ , and _The Black Conspiracy_.

Institut Medizinischer Beförderung

Located in Bangdorf, Freedonia, the Institut Medizinischer Beförderung is the foremost center of medical and physical sciences.

Intruder

A long Brech novel, _Intruder_ by Freedonian author Anarosa Freedman is considered borderline pornographic, and so is incredibly popular throughout the country.

Isle de Fortann

A large island in the Thiss beside Brech City, Isle de Fortann is home to Fort Tharbin, which protects the city from any invasion that might come upriver.

Isle of Winds, The

A tiny, rocky island, the Isle of Winds was the center of a magic dampening zone. In 1499, the fortress of Schwarztogrube was constructed on the island. By 1750, Schwarztogrube had become a prison for wizards and sorcerers. Near New Years day in 1899, Schwarztogrube and the Isle of Winds disappeared of the face of the world. At first it was believed that some act of god was responsible, but it was later discovered to have been the work of an escaped sorceress—Zurfina the Magnificent.

It All Turned to Dust

A long and rather depressing novel by Mirsannan writer Raphael Ragone.

Ixec

Ixec was a warrior empire built upon the ashes of the abandoned Doglon city-states. Taking much of its culture from earlier empires, Ixec reveled in blood sacrifice and torture. Ixec was one of the few regions not visited by Magnus the Great, so was unaffected by the spread of the Zaeri religion. Beginning in 266, Kafirites began proselytizing in Ixec, and by around 1000, two thirds of the populace had been converted. In 1192, Kafirism became the official religion.

Jaquesville

A small town in Brechalon.

Jaquesville, S.S.

One of the cargo ships making the run from Brechalon to Birmisia.

Journey to Enclep, A

A book by Mirsannan author Shia Toler.

Jungles of Brick

A book by Maddchen Schaub which tells the story of several families living in a moldering brownstone apartment building.

Juton

Juton was one of a pair of deities worshiped in ancient Akkas. Juton was the aspect of light and was directly opposed to his twin: Treffia. Though both names have been found on the few ancient monuments that remain of Akkas, little is known of their temples or religions practices.

Kafira Kristos

Born about -20, Kafira Kristos became a Zaeri Imam about year 5. After a few years, she began teaching a variant of Zaeri that called for a belief in an afterlife, a life devoted to God, and a disregard for worldly affairs. She became a target of the Xygian clergy and was charged with heresy and crucified in year 13. Within three years, she had become the focus of a religious movement that swept across the world. Today, Kafirism is the dominant human religion.

Kafira and the Barbarians

A religious text by Liana Reuter, rife with inaccuracies.

Kafira Mass

The major holiday in Kafiradom, Kafira Mass celebrates the birthday of Kafira Kristos. Though her true date of birth is unknown, it is almost universally celebrated on Kafirius 25th.

Kafira's Cross

A religious text by medieval writer Kenitra Madoff, _Kafira's Cross_ is widely read across Sumir.

Kafira's Family

A text by Freedonian writer Liana Rueter, considered both historically inaccurate and heretical.

Kafira's Marriage

Kafira's Marriage, traditional Freedonian music, is a march played for the bride's entrance at many formal weddings throughout the Brechalon and Freedonia.

Kafiradom

A common term for the part of the world in which the worship of Kafira dominates religion. In modern times, Kafiradom is synonymous with the entire human world.

Kafirius

Kafirius is the twelfth month of the modern reformed calendar. It has 30 days. Kafira Mass, the highest holy day of the Kafirite religion is Kafirius 25th. Kafirius 25th is also the birthday of Saba Colbshallow.

Kasselburg

A beautiful city in western Freedonia, Kassleburg sits on a plateau in the Halyon Mountains. Kasselburg University is a noted institution of science and fine arts. Kasselburg is known to most Brechs for the potato dish named for it. Isaak Wissinger lived and worked in Kasselburg before being forced into Zurelendsviertel.

Keiman, Abban

A popular Brech writer, Abban Keiman writes extensively on life in Brechalon. Most of his works contain numerous religious references and parallels.

King's Oval Park

King's Oval Park is a large venue of cricket in the northern portion of Brech City. King's Oval Park is located on Scrum Boulevard and is arranged for use by up to a dozen cricket matches and two rugby games.

King's Warehouse

Located just off Contico Boulevard, the massive storage facility of King's Warehouse is a distribution site for food to the poor.

Kiss Me Before I Die

A book by Dallorian writer Lamis Warlick, _Kiss Me Before I Die_ is very popular in both Brechalon and Freedonia.

Klumb, Indrajit

The son of a Freedonian father and a Mirsannan mother, Indrajit Klumb moved to Borazon becoming one of that country's most popular authors and serving in the Borazon Parliament.

Kolibri, S.S.

The S.S. Kolibri was a high-class passenger transport added to the Arrow line after its expansion by Merchant and Shannon. It made the southern run between Birmisia and Brechalon with a stop at the extreme southern end of the Mulliens.

Korlata

One of the Donnata city-states, Korlata is the birthplace of democracy, and is justly famous for its art and architecture.

Kutambata

A village in central Enclep, Kutambata is the source for much of the world's white opthalium.

Ladies' Auxiliary

A Brech organization originally created for wives of Brech soldiers but later opened to any Brech women. Its members perform community service and charitable works.

Lathan, Momone

A Mirsannan writer, Momone Lathan is best known in Brechalon for the novel _And God Looked Down and Smiled_.

Latyum, Empire of

Latyum was the eastern most empire of the Mersh people. Never as stable as Mershona, Latyum struggled through the rule of a dozen emperors, but created wondrous works of art. Latyum fell to the Rundak tribes between -1800 and -1300.

Laudanum

Laudanum is a tincture of opium containing approximately 10% powdered opium by weight. It is reddish-brown in color and tastes extremely bitter. Laudanum contains almost all of the opium alkaloids, including morphine and codeine. A potent narcotic by virtue of its high morphine concentration, laudanum is used to treat a variety of ailments, but its principal use is as an analgesic and cough suppressant. Laudanum is purchased in Brech City at any apothecary.

Khaki

Khaki is a color, a light shade of yellow-brown similar to tan or beige. It is used by many armies around the world for uniforms.

Lighthouse, The

A book by wizard Phirun Lovell, _The Lighthouse_ tells the story of wizards in Brechalon and their importance to modern society.

Light of the Moon

An important book by Sable Agria, _Light of the Moon_ tells the story of a doomed romance between cousins.

Lizzies

(See Lizardmen.)

Lizardmen

The aboriginal inhabitants of Birmisia, Lizardmen are cold-blooded reptilians with a complex culture and language. Generally, six to seven feet tall, with gray, green, or brown scaly skin, the lizzies as they are known to humans have long snouts filled with peg-like teeth, and though they walked more or less fully upright, they sport a tail behind them six to eight feet long. Up and down their backs, as in alligators, they have a row of bumpy ridges, while in front they sport a large flap of skin or dewlap below their faces. Their hands, though possessing stumpy claw-tipped fingers do feature an opposable thumb. They eschew clothing, but often wear belts, assorted tribal jewelry, and decorative paint. Though humans often find it difficult to differentiate between the sexes, females are generally smaller than males. Once a year, female lizzies lay eggs in forest nests. When the young are born, they run wild in the forest until at about the age of ten, they are caught by the adults and civilized. Most lizardmen live in small villages of 50 to 300 individuals, though there are several large and powerful lizzie city-states.

Lovell, Phirun

A wizard and writer, Phirun Lovell took part in killing one of the last dragons known in Sumir, which he recounted in his book Red Dragon Hunter.

Lowess, Kingdom of

Splitting away from Rundaria in 544, Lowess combined with Rundarr (Rundaria) and Derich in 1794 to form Freedonia.

Löwestadt

A city in eastern Freedonia, Löwestadt is a stopover point for tourist planning to visit the Numateme.

Madoff, Kenitra

Saphiran poet and writer, Kenitra Madoff eventually became a nun.

Magdafeld

A town in central Freedonia, Magdafeld sits high up on a hill, giving a beautiful view of the surrounding countryside. Magdafeld is a connecting point both for the railroad and river travel. An ancient canal connects the waterway to nearby rivers through a series of locks.

Magic Spider, The

A novel by Mirsannan writer Anapurna Sevo.

Magic Whale, The

A children's book by Geert Resnick, _The Magic Whale_ is also popular among Brech adults.

Magnius

Magnius is the eleventh month of the modern reformed calendar. It is named after King Magnus the Great, who adopted the calendar during his rule. Like all the months except Hamonth, it has 30 days. Magnius 21st is the birthday of Augustus Marek Virgil Dechantagne. Magnius 20th is the birthday of his younger sister Terra Posthuma Dechantagne.

Mahanian, Umeko

A writer with a Brech father and Enclepian mother, Umeko Mahanian is best known for his detective story _Doctor and Priest_.

Majestic, S.S.

A passenger ship making the run from Brechalon to Birmisia.

Major Frisbie's Chutney

Major Frisbie's Chutney is a product produced in Brechalon and distributed around the world. Founded by a former army officer, the company produces several different varieties of chutney, the most popular of which is green tomato.

Mallon

A continent far to the east of Sumir, Mallon is the home to dinosaurs and aboriginal reptilians of several varieties. The northern third of the continent is divided into two regions: Mallontah and Birmisia.

Mallontah

The northwestern portion of the continent of Mallon, Mallontah is a vast region of deserts and tropical forests. The Brech presence in Mallontah is centered around their capital city of St. Ulixes.

Man Who Loved His Gardener, The

A novel by Isaak Wissinger, _The Man Who Loved His Gardener_ tells the story of a man's obsessive love of a prostitute.

Manzanian River

The Manzanian River, named by Colonel Mormont during his exploration of Birmisia, lies just east of Port Dechantagne. It is navigable for only the first several miles from the ocean, before going through a series of cataracts. Locally, it is known as the Minotaur River.

Marching Over Enclep

A book of poetry by Leda Schraam, _Marching Over Enclep_ puts a positive spin on the subjugation of primitive peoples by the Brech military.

Marcourt Station

On the other side of Brech City from Princess Aarya Boulevard Station, Marcourt Station is almost as large, connecting trains going in and out of Brech City with the horse-drawn trolley system.

Marines, Royal

The Royal Marines are a branch of infantry trained to fight from ship, as well and on land. They were formed in 1664 and are a part of the UK Naval Service. They have the longest infantry training in the world, which stands at 32 weeks for an enlisted recruit and 64 weeks for an officer recruit. They include a commando brigade, a security unit responsible for guarding Greater Brechalon's wizards, a Fleet Protection Group, a landing craft and boat-training group, and a naval special forces unit, and a naval band service.

Mark, Brech

The Mark is the main currency of The United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon. In modern Brech, the mark is produced as a coin, as in a gold Decimark (10 marks), and banknotes are printed in denominations of 1 to 500 marks. The 500-mark note is often referred to as "a Tybalt" because of its portrait of King Tybalt III.

Marriage in a Slaughterhouse

A novel by Walter Grace.

Marriage of Purpose, A

A novel by Sable Agria that many mistakenly take as favoring arranged marriages; _A Marriage of Purpose_ in fact advocates marriage for love.

Mather

The largest Freedonian manufacturer of small firearms, Mather is famous for their semi-automatic pistols.

Matter and the Elements

One of the most printed books in the world, _Matter and the Elements_ by Phoebus Dodson is a text for all chemistry and physics classes in Brechalon, Mirsanna, or Freedonia.

Merchant and Shannon Shipping Lines

The largest and most expansive shipping organization in Brechalon, Merchant and Shannon operated scores of ships in and out of ports around the world.

Meet Me in Hexagon Park

A flowery and romantic novel set in modern day Brech City, by author Cathal Parvis.

Men and Women

A book by Shrem Tunney extolling the virtues of marriage with little or no sex.

Mermaid's Ankle, The

A tavern in Brech City near the Thiss docks, The Mermaid's Ankle caters to sailors and dockworkers. It has its own carriage that is used to take home patrons who become indisposed.

Mernham Yard

Mernham Yard is headquarters for the Brech City Police Corps.

Meninia Impertinenta, S.S.

A Mirsannan freighter that frequently makes the trip to Birmisia from Mirsanna.

Mersh

The Mersh were people who migrated to modern Freedonia about -3300, conquering the Donnatta successor states and Ancient Brechalon. The Mersh practiced Argrathian culture and religion. Eventually they split into the twin empires of Mershona and Latyum.

Mershona, Empire of

The western half of the lands conquered by the Mersh became Mershona. Known for its engineers, architects, and artists, Mershoan was the first civilization to send explorers beyond the continent. Some speculate they may have travelled as far as Mallon. Mershona fell to the invading Rundak tribes about -1140.

Microraptor

Microraptor is a genus of small, four-winged bird or dinosaur found in Birmisia. With adult specimens ranging 2.5 to 3 feet long, and with a weight of about two pounds, Microraptors are unusual among birds and feathered dinosaurs. They are one of the few known birds to sport long flight feathers on the legs as well as the wings.

Ministry of War, Brech

The Ministry of War not only operates the Army, Navy, and Marines of the United Kingdom, but also controls the wizards and sorcerers of the kingdom.

Minotaur, H.M.S.

A large and modern battleship, H.M.S. Minotaur is 430 feet long, has a beam of 75 feet, and a draft of 26 feet. It has a displacement of 13,200 tons. The Minotaur was loaned to the Dechantagne Birmisia Expedition.

Minotaur River

(See Manzanian River.)

Miparia

A country in Southern Sumir, Miparia was founded by conquistadors from Mirsa in 899, who invaded what was then Pavir. Today Miparia is a close ally of Mirsanna and is an enemy of Numis and Camora.

Mirlughth

An ancient name for steel.

Mirsa, Kingdom of

The Kingdom of Mirsa was formed, along with Loess and Derich, in 544 during a revolution against Rundaria. In 1744, Mirsa combined with the Kingdom of Zaer to become Mirsanna.

Mirsanna, The Kingdom of

Mirsanna was founded by the joining of the Kingdom of Mirsa with the Kingdom of Zaer in 1744. Mirsanna is considered by many to be the cultural center of the modern world. Its capital of Natine is the center of fashion, food, and music. Mirsanna is a traditional rival of both Freedonia and Brechalon.

Mirsannan Pastoral

The only remaining work by novelist Robinson Arps, _Mirsannan Pastoral_ extolls the virtue of Mirsannan country life. It is popular among Brech women, who typically find Brech society less cultured than that of Mirsanna.

Mistress of Brechbay, S.S.

One of the larger freighters making the run from Brechalon to Birmisia, on her last such run, the Mistress of Brechbay was sunk by a torpedo from a Freedonian submersible.

Miza

A subject race that overthrew the Olgons about -1300, by -1000 the Miza had become a civilization in their own right. They worshipped the Olgon gods but were decidedly less bloodthirsty. They expanded to conquer Hathastor and were eventually conquered by King Magnus's Zur Empire.

Modest Scriptures, The

The life and teachings of Kafira Kristos make up the second half of the Kafirite scriptures, known as The Modest Scriptures (the first half is known as The Grand Scriptures). The Modest Scriptures contain 32 books, which are as follows: The Fall of King Magnus, The Gospel According to Admeta, The Gospel According to Bikendi, The Gospel According to Dante, The Prayers of Dante, The Gospel According to Ulixes, The Gospel According to Wiolet, The Epistles of Fantin the Elder, The Parable of Blood, The Epistles of Fantin the Younger, The Epistles of Julien, The Parable of Wind, The Epistles of March, The Parable of Magic, The Epistles of Raina, The Gospel of Egeria, Egeria's Epistles to the Dallarians, Egeria's Epistles to the Zaeri, Egeria's Epistle to the Rundarians, Egeria's Epistle to the Xygians, Egeria's Epistle to the Argrathians, Egeria's Epistle to the Pavir, Egeria's Epistle to the Ixec, Egeria's Epistle to the Zurians, Egeria's Epistle to Borazon, The Vision of Lamar, Egeria's Epistle to Lamar, Egeria's Epistle to Ulixes, The Lives of the Apostles, The Epistles of Ulixes, Ulixes's Torments, Ulixes's Revelations.

Mont Dechantagne

A large estate near Shopton, Brechalon, Mont Dechantagne is the traditional home of the Dechantagne family dating from their arrival in Greater Brechalon in the early 1200s.

More Brech Stories

A popular collection of short stories by Baumgarten Glines, and a quasi-sequel to _Brech Stories._

Morizu, King

King Morizu was a Zur ruler and grandfather of Magnus the Great. He began the expansion of the Zur Empire that would eventually result in the conquest of the known world.

Mormont, Colonel

Colonel Mormont was the first Brech explorer of Mallon. His journals provide detailed accounts of the flora, fauna, and aborigines of the region.

Mrs. Fox

A novel by Anapurna Sevo.

Mrs. McKeeb's Big Book of Childhood Admonitions

One of the most popular books in Brechalon for more than 100 years, Mrs. McKeebs is a compendium of short tales in which children defy authority in various ways, usually resulting in their horrible death, dismemberment, or at least disfigurement. Brech parents generally consider this required reading for all their children under 10 years of age.

Music Box, Mechanical

The mechanical music box became popular throughout Sumir after its invention by Brech entrepreneur Clert Mirsoff. Using wax cylinders, the music box can replicate music and spoken words, even sound effects. At a cost of less than 4 marks, the mechanical music box is far more popular than similar devices that work on magic.

Nacht-der-Blumen-Fest

One of the major Freedonian cultural holidays, "The Night of the Flowers" is held each spring. A major part of the celebration is feasting and dancing, as well as bright colorful displays of flowers. Before bed on Nacht-der-Blumen-Fest, children place their shoes by the fireplace in hopes that they will be filled with candy by the flower sprites.

Natine

Capital city of the Kingdom of Mirsanna. It is a major center of culture in the world, particularly of food and fashion. Built on a site inhabited since prehistoric times, the modern city of Natine was established in 590 with the construction of the iconic city walls.

Nationalistische Demokraten

A minority political party in Freedonia, the National Socialists are allied with the Reine Zauberei and their policies.

Neo-Zaerphon

Thje portion of Zaerphon which remained after -1800 is recognized as a separate culture is today called Neo-Zaerphon, due to differences in art, science, and architecture. The Zaerphonians however considered themselves to be a continuation of the earlier society. The Zaeri religion became monolithic in Neo-Zaerphon, centered around the Temeple of Axemom.

Neuschlindenmacht Castle

A beautiful medieval castle in Freedonia, Neuschlindenmacht Castle was confiscated as by the Reine Zauberei and used as their headquarters.

Nightmare Song

A book-length poem by Delia Hume, _Nightmare Song_ tells the story of a woman in search of the meaning of dreams.

Night of the Snake

A novel by Ebrahim Detsky, _Night of the Snake_ tells the story of twelve travelers who spend the night in a roadside in.

No Ghost Out Tonight

No Ghost Out Tonight is an outdoor game played by children in Brechalon. One player is designated the ghost. The rest of the players form a line and place their hands on either side of their eyes to act as blinders. The ghost then hides while the other players walk a designated path through the garden chanting "No ghosts out tonight" over and over. At some point the ghost pops out and touches one of the other players who then becomes the new ghost

Novuary

Novuary is the ninth month in the modern reformed calendar. Like all the months except Hamonth, it has 30 days. Novuary 28th is the first day of Fall. Novuary 4th is the birthday of Iolanthe Dechantagne.

Numateme, The

An artifact left by the people of Ancient Bormass, the Numateme is an entire mountain carved into the shape of a lion. It is located in modern Freedonia near the city of Löwestadt.

Nutooka

Nutooka is a small city in northern Enclep, with a native population of perhaps twenty thousand living in homes made of bamboo and palm fronds. Its only roads are winding pathways of dirt filled with rickshaws, carts pulled along by oxen, and in a few cases by large pigs, and native women carrying bundles upon their shoulders. The Brechalon Royal Navy maintains a deep-water port in Nutooka.

Numis

Numis is a country in southern Sumir. Numis was a province of Pavir that became independent in 1011. Numis is an enemy of Camora and is allied with Freedonia.

Nurix

One of the largest cities of Neo-Zaerphon, as well as capital from -1700 to -1120, Nurix is best known as the location of the Temple of Axemom. The city was destroyed by the Rundarians in year 88.

Obscured by the Sand

The best-known novel of Augustus Patrylla.

Octuary

Octuary is the eighth month of the modern reformed calendar. Like all the months except Hamonth, it has 30 days. Terrence Dechantagne was born in Octuary.

Oddyndessen

A Zaeri holiday, seldom celebrated in Brechalon but still common in other countries, Oddyndessen is a remembrance of the scriptural hero Odessah who set out on a journey around the world at the command of God. This journey is recounted in the Book of Odyssey in the Grand Scriptures.

Ode to Celebration

Ode to Celebration in C major, written in 1842, is one of the best known of the pieces of classical music. At weddings in Brechalon, this piece is commonly used as a recessional.

Old City, The

The central part of Brech City, The Old City consists of large marble and stone buildings constructed between 1,000 and 300 years ago. The relatively small population of The Old City (about 600,000) is largely venerable and affluent families and tradesmen who operate businesses in the area.

Old Prophets, The

The Old Prophets is the fourth book of the Holy Scriptures of the Zaeri (known as the Grand Scriptures to Kafirites). It deals with the lives of ancient Zaeri prophets and their pronouncements. Zeah quotes The Old Prophets Chapter 26, Verse 3: "Fear neither dragon nor storm."

Olgon

Originally a mountain people, the Olgon conquered first the Driconda and then their neighbors, creating an empire two thousand miles long. Between -2100 and -1300, the Olgon built commercial centers around huge pyramids dedicated to their gods. The practice of bloody sacrifice led to their overthrow by subject races.

Omris

Omris was one of a pantheon of gods worshipped by the ancient Argrathians. Originally a death god, Omris evolved over time to a resurrection deity. The cult of Omris was surpassed by that of Sirris long before the Zaeri religion was brought to Argrathia.

On the Rails

_On the Rails_ is a book by Mirsannan writer Corrina Orendia. It tells the story of Brech railroad moguls and was published in Brech before being translated by the author to Mirsannan.

Orendia, Corrina

A Mirsannan writer.

Ornithomimus

Ornithomimus is a large Birmisian bird. It is characterized by feet with three weight-bearing toes, long slender arms, and a long neck. It has an elongated, toothless, beaked skull. Ornithomimus is bipedal and superficially resembles ostriches. They are swift runners.

Oxenbourse, Lord

Lord Oxenbourse was a title granted to Mr. Robert Pine in 1822 for heroic defense of the Kingdom in the naval engagement at the Battle of Mulien. Upon his death, without heirs, the title was returned to the King, and was never granted again. A statue of Lord Oxenbourse stands above a fountain on Avenue Dragon.

Osprey, S.S.

One of a number of passenger/cargo ships making the run from Brechalon to Birmisia.

Oster

A kingdom of southern Sumir from about 800 to till 1864, Oster combined the cultures of Argrathia and Pavir. In 1864, Lower Pavir (now known simply as Pavir) joined with Oster to become Pavir-Oster.

Palace Eidenia

The Palace Eidenia is a beautiful royal residence just north of Saint Admeta Park in Brech City. It is the traditional home of the Princess Royal. It was the home of Princess Aarya (the younger sister of King Tybalt III) from 1881 to her death1886. Since that time, it has remained empty.

Pale Sun

A book by Geert Resnick, _Pale Sun_ is far less popular than his other book— _The Magic Whale_. Though a children's book, it was banned in Freedonia for allegedly anti-Freedonian political ideas.

Paralatitan

One of the largest creatures in Birmisia, the paralatitan weighs up to 60 tons. It is a long-necked long-tailed creature that feeds of the immense redwoods. It can be found both near the coast and deeper inland.

Parksosaurus

A small bipedal herbivorous dinosaur found in Birmisia, the parksosaurus stands about two and a half feet tall and is about ten feet long. Though not believed to be related, they strongly resemble the much larger iguanodons.

Parnorsham's Pfennig Store

For some time, Parnorsham's Pfennig Store was the only retail outlet in Birmisia. Like similar pfennig stores throughout the empire of Greater Brechalon, Parnorshams carries notions, stationary, toys, small hardware, small sports equipment, and some canned and packaged foods. Originally founded by Herbert Parnorsham, the business was passed to his nephew Oswald Delks upon his retirement.

Patrylla, Augustus

A modern Brech author.

Parvis, Cathal

A contemporary Brech author, Cathal Parvis is best known for light-hearted stories with simple morals.

Pavir

Pavir was a successor state to Magnus's Empire of the Zur. Originally covering most of central Sumir, about 500, Pavir split into Upper and Lower Pavir. By 1081, Upper Pavir had become the Kingdoms of Sapira and Esseria. In 1864, Lower Pavir (now known simply as Pavir) joined with neighbor Oster to become Pavir-Oster. Porcelain from the early period of Pavir (500-700) is highly sought-after and expensive.

Pentuary

Pentuary is the fifth month of the modern reformed calendar. Like all the months except Hamonth, it has 30 days.

Perfico

Established in 1460, as the capital of the Kingdom of Rivven, Perfico is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Under the rule of Akkas-Miza since the early 1800s, Perfico continues to be a center of trade and culture.

Petitt Elvert

An island in the channel between Brechalon and Mirsanna, Petitt Elvert has long been claimed by both countries, and emigrants from both countries have settled there. Brechalon has controlled the island and the waters around it for more than 200 years, and Mirsanna has never really had the island in its possession.

Pfennig, Brech

The Pfennig is a unit of Brech money equal to 1/100 mark. In modern Brechalon, coins are minted in denominations of 1, 5, 10, 25, and 50 pfennigs, as well as a mark coin and a gold decimark. The modern 1 pfennig coin features an image of King Tybalt on the obverse.

Pigeon Guillemot, S.S.

A medium-sized, not particularly seaworthy steamship, the S.S. Pigeon Guillemot was originally a Mirsannan freighter, but was put into service transporting refugee Zaeri Freedonians to Birmisia.

Pilgrimage into Danger

An allegorical novel by Delia Hume in which animal characters representing various parts of the human soul must navigate the dangers which metaphorically represent growth and maturity.

Pith Helmet

The pith helmet (also known as the safari helmet or sun helmet) is a lightweight cloth-covered helmet made of cork or pith. Designed to shade the wearer's head and face from the sun, pith helmets were often worn by Brechs and Freedonians in the tropics but have also been used in other contexts.

Plagues in Brick Towers

A novel by Samson Whitney.

Polacanthus

The Polacanthus is a dinosaur common to the much of Birmisia. They grow to between 12 to 15 feet in length. The polacanthus is quadrupedal, and about four feet high at the shoulder. They are heavily built with pointy spines poking out at forty-five-degree angles right and left from the top of their neck to their mid-back for protection, and an armored rear hip.

Ponte-a-Verne

A small town in the Duchy of Regencia and home to the University of the same name.

Ponte-a-Verne, University of

The University of Ponte-a-Verne, located in the Duchy of Regencia, is one of Greater Brechalon's most prestigious universities. It is well known for its research department. Professor Merced Calliere was a tenured teacher at Ponte-a-Verne prior to his move to Birmisia.

Portrait of Kafira Kristos

A book about the life of Kafira Kristos by medieval writer Kenitra Madoff.

Potatoes Kasselburg

Named for the city in western Freedonia, Potatoes Kasselburg is a spicy dish of potatoes baked in a cream sauce with onions and pepper.

Potter's Field

The location just outside of Brech City proper where the poor and unknown are buried.

Prayerful Readings

A book of religious poems and essays by medieval writer Kenitra Madoff.

Prescott Agency, The

The Prescott Agency is located on Avenue Boar in Brech City. They supply servants of aristocratic Brech families including the Dechantagnes.

Priest

The primary clerical position in the Church of Kafira, priests often have potent magic that is used to heal or defend their flocks.

Prime Minister, Brech

The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon is the most senior minister of cabinet in the executive branch of government in the Brech parliamentary system. The Prime Minister selects and may dismiss other members of the cabinet, and allocates posts to members within the government, subject only to the approval of the King. The prime minister is the presiding member and chairman of the cabinet. It is the duty of the Prime Minister to execute the directives of the King, who is the head of state.

Prince Clitus Avenue

A secondary street in Brech City, Prince Clitus Avenue is south of Hexagon Park, perpendicular to Prince Tybalt Boulevard. It is home to small shops and three- and four-story apartment buildings. Zurfina makes a home on Prince Clitus Avenue prior to leaving Brech City for Birmisia, by taking over an abandoned storefront.

Prince Tybalt Boulevard

A Major Street in Brech City, Prince Tybalt Boulevard runs north and south along the western edge of Hexagon park, perpendicular to Avenue Phoenix. Zurfina had lodgings on Prince Tybalt Boulevard prior to her imprisonment at Schwarztogrube.

Prince Tybalt Chair

A stylish wooden chair with a cushioned seat and back, the Prince Tybalt Chair was originally designed during the reign of King Tybalt I, and was named for his son, who would go on to be King Tybalt II.

Prince Tybalt's Scepter

A book by Orion Weevoc.

Princess Aarya Boulevard Station

The main train station in Brech City, Princess Aarya Boulevard City Station sees trains from all over Brechalon arriving daily. Four blocks north of the Great Plaza, it is sometimes simply referred to as "the great station." It appears from its front façade to be a large two story building but stretches out hundreds of yards from the street.

Privilege and Sacrifice

A long novel by Kasia Garstone, _Privilege and Sacrifice_ tells the story of several generations of an aristocratic Brech family and the servants who live among them.

Profanity

Profanity is a subset of language that includes references that are crude or blasphemous. Much of the profanity of Greater Brechalon focuses on Kafira Kristos. It includes "Kafira" or "Kafira Kristos" used as an expletive, "Kafira damn it," "Kafira's tit," and perhaps the worst epithet "Kafira's bloody twat."

Prudence Plus

Prudence Plus is the largest manufacturer of ladies' undergarments in the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon. One of their top selling items is the Fairy Bust Form Corset.

Pursuit of Perfection, The

The most popular novel by Dillan Westmacott.

Quaduary

Quaduary is the fourth month of the modern reformed calendar. Like all the months except Hamonth, it has 30 days. Quaduary 1st is Senta Bly's birthday.

Quality of Damiano, The

A novel by Abban Keiman, _The Quality of Damiano_ is one of the most quoted books in the Brech language.

Quasit

A quasit is a small demonic creature used by wizards and sorcerers to spy on others or run errands. They are usually kept stored in a state of torpor inside glass jars when not in use.

Queen of Expy, S.S.

A Brech freighter, one of the larger ships on the seas. The Queen of Expy is named for the isle of Expy just north of Brechalon, which contrary to what one might expect, has no queen.

Quinn, Dorrit

A popular Brech writer who chronicles modern life in Brechalon.

Rabbits Under the Fence

A novel by Ebrahim Detsky, _Rabbits Under the Fence_ tells the story of Arba, an orphan who is sold as slave labor on a massive rabbit farm in Mirsanna.

Red Heart

A novel by Isaak Wissinger.

Ragone, Raphael

A modern Mirsannan writer.

Rall, Giridhara

A modern Mirsannan writer.

Ravendeep

A notorious prison in the Old City of Brech, Ravendeep is built on twenty levels below ground.

Red Dragon Hunter

The book by wizard Phirun Lovell, recounting the death of the dragon Abberixiz.

Redgepool

A large port city in Regencia, Redgepool is home to Brechalon's largest fishing fleet.

Red Sashes

A terrorist organization based in Enclep, they are violently opposed to outside influence and frequently ally themselves with local cults, such as that of the ape god Guma.

Regencia

One of 66 regional divisions in Greater Brechalon, the Duchy of Regencia is located in the northwest corner of the island of Brechalon. Regencia is the home of the University Ponte-a-Verne.

Reine Zauberei

Die Wahre Kunst von Zauberei is a cabal of Freedonian wizards who gained control over much of Freedonian society. They believe in the domination of wizardry over sorcery and Freedonians over all other races and ethnicities. They practiced racial purification and ethnic cleansing, up to and including genocide.

Resnick, Geert

A popular Brech writer of books for children, Geert Resnick is best known for his book _The Magic Whale_.

Restuary

Resturary is the first month of the year under the modern reformed calendar. Like all the other months except Hamonth, it has 30 days. Traditionally, Restuary is a time of rest.

Result Mechanism

A steam-powered, clockwork computer designed and built by Professor Merced Calliere and programmed by Egeria Lusk, the Result Mechanism was used to design the layout of Port Dechantagne. It was later used by both Wizard Suvir Kesi and Calliere to craft magic spells.

Revenge

A novel by Kasia Garstone, _Revenge_ is the story of an apprentice Wizard and illuminates the control of magic by the Brech War Ministry.

Rex and Stern

Brech manufacturers of firearms, Rex and Stern are most famous for their line of .44 caliber pistols produced in the mid-1800s. Later models have included .45 caliber and .38 caliber revolvers.

Rickshaw

A rickshaw is a mode of human-powered transport by which a runner draws a two-wheeled cart which seats one or two persons. Rickshaws are commonly made with bamboo. Rickshaws were in wide use in Enclep and were imported to Birmisia for use by the aboriginal lizardmen.

Rivenholz

A town in central Freedonia, Rivenholz is about 40 miles from Magdafeld.

Riverton

Riverton is a small settlement east of Port Dechantagne in Birmisia Colony. Fewer than fifty individuals live in Riverton which sits on the banks of the Manzanian River.

Roger's Pie

Roger's Pies are a variety of simple but tasty meat pies available throughout Greater Brechalon. The main ingredients of Roger's Pies are beef and turnips, but pork with carrots and peas are popular as well.

Royal Geographic Society

The Royal Geographic Society is a distinguished Brech learned society founded in 1830 for the advancement of geographical sciences. Today, it is a world center for geography: supporting research, education, expeditions and fieldwork, and promoting public engagement and informed understanding of the world's races, places, and environments.

Royal Geographic Society Journal

A publication of the Royal Geographic Society, the Journal is published monthly.

Rueter, Liana

A popular Freedonian religious writer.

Rugby

Rugby is a football came common in Greater Brechalon. In Brechalon, rugby is widely regarded as an "establishment" sport, played mostly by members of the upper and middle classes. For example, many students at public schools and grammar schools play rugby.

Rundak

The Rundak were tribesmen who migrated north from central Sumir. They destroyed the civilizations of Mershona and Latyum. Those lands remained essentially a barbarian wasteland until conquered by Magnus the Great.

Rundaria

The land of the Rundak became Rundaria after the death of Magnus the Great. Rundaria encompassed all of modern Freedonia, Greater Brechalon, and half of modern Mirsanna. Rundaria converted to Kafirism in year 88.

Rivven

About -2050, in the heart of central Sumir, a new culture took shape, copying the ancient monuments of Akkas. Creating a theocracy worshipping the gods of nature, Rivven became a land of unique and beautiful cities. About -1800, the priests were overthrown by a warrior class and eventually the cities were abandoned.

Sabrina, S.S.

One of the larger Brech freighters making the trip to Birmisia.

Sacrifice

Perhaps the most controversial book by Kasia Garstone, _Sacrifice_ tells the story of the growth and expansion of the Kafirite Church in Sumir and particularly in Brechalon.

Saint Admeta Park

A lovely square park in Brech City, several miles west of the Great Plaza, Saint Admeta Park is open to the public only on holidays or special occasions. It is named for St. Admeta, one of Kafira Kristos's apostles.

Saint Dante, University of

The University of St. Dante is a small educational institution outside Brech City. It is relatively exclusive, with a high tuition, and has a student body that is almost 70% female. St. Dante is named for the apostle of Kafira of the same name, and not-coincidently, St. Dante has a strong theology department.

Saint Ulixes

The capital city of Brech Mallontah, St. Ulixes was originally an aboriginal city-state before being taken over by Brechs. Home to tens of thousands of human inhabitants and several million locals (trogs), the city is mostly made up of round mud brick structures with a few modern buildings.

Sands of Time, The

_The Sands of Time_ is a novel my Mirsannan Arjen DeAlonzo. It is set in the time of Magnus the Great.

Sapira

A kingdom in central Sumir from about 800 to 1500, Sapira was controlled by groups migrating from nearby kingdoms. Sapira was eventually swallowed up by Akkas-Miza.

Sassonicah

An ancient lizzie empire in Birmisia, Sassonicah was once a vast country ruled by one or more dynasties of lizzie rulers, including Sessonoth and his predecessor Sissisinat. The true extent of Sassonicah is unknown, although obelisks and artifacts of the civilization have been found all over Birmisia Colony. Only estimates of the age of these artifacts have been made, but those estimates range from -3000 to -14,000. If the latter age is to be believed, then Sassonicah would have been a mighty empire long before any human culture reached civilization.

Sauroposeidon

A huge Birmisian dinosaur, the sauroposeidon is similar in form to the paralatitan, but has a longer neck in relation to its body. Sauroposeidon are found near the coastal areas throughout most of the year but can be found further inland during mating season.

Schaub, Maddchen

A contemporary and friend of Kasia Garstone, Maddchen Schaub wrote similar muckraking books, highlighting the underclasses and the disenfranchised, though it is generally accepted that her work is inferior to Garstone's. Schaub was arrested in Freedonia and charged with treason. She died in prison.

Schraam, Leda

A transplanted Freedonian, Leda Schraam is a writer of jingoistic Brech poetry. Her work is frequently quoted by members of the Conservative Party.

Schwarztogrube

Schwarztogrube was an ancient fortress built on the Isle of Winds, halfway between Greater Brechalon and the northern coast of Sumir. Built in 1499 as a defense against Laess and Derich, it was soon discovered that Schwarztogrube was in a magic dampening zone. By 1750, it had become a prison for wizards and sorcerers, and held many criminals and political prisoners with magic powers. Near New Year's day in 1899, Schwarztogrube and the Isle of Winds disappeared off the face of the world. At first it was believed that some act of god was responsible, but it was later discovered to have been the work of an escaped sorceress—Zurfina the Magnificent.

Scrum Boulevard

Scrum Boulevard runs north to the edge of Brech City. King's Oval Park is located on Scrum Boulevard.

Secret Service, His Majesty's

A spy network working under the Prime Minister, His Majesty's Secret Service employs both wizards and non-magical agents to protect the realm and gather information on Brechalon's enemies.

See Spice

(See White Opthalium.)

Seismosaurus

Seismosaurus is a very large long-necked quadrupedal animal, with a long, whip-like tail. Its forelimbs are slightly shorter than its hind limbs, resulting in a largely horizontal posture. The long-necked, long-tailed animal with four sturdy legs has been mechanically compared with a suspension bridge. Seismosauruses are common throughout Mallon.

Septuary

Septuary is the seventh month of the modern reformed calendar. Like all the months except Hamonth, it has 30 days.

Setting Sun, The

_The Setting Sun_ is a novel by Isaak Wissinger. Originally published in Freedonian (Die Einsellungsonne), the book became popular in Brechalon after being translated.

Seventh- and One-Half Avenue

One of cross streets in the peninsula of Port Dechantagne, Seventh- and One-Half Avenue runs from the shipyards uphill to the militia base (which early on, served as the government offices of the colony), and is lined by warehouses. In later years, a trolley track was added to the center of the avenue.

Sevo, Anapurna

A Mirsannan writer.

Sexuary

Sexuary is the sixth month of the modern reformed calendar. Like all the months except Hamonth, it has 30 days. Sexuary 24th is the first day of Summer.

Shopton

A town of about 6,000 some 260 miles southeast of Brech City, Shopton is the location of Mont Dechantagne, the traditional family home of the Dechantagne family.

Short Men

Short Men were are an entirely different species from human beings, as evidenced by their historic inability to interbreed with 'normal humans'. If the articles in the Royal Geographic Society Journal were to be believed, they descended from a completely different, though contemporary, group of prehistoric cavemen. They are short. The average height for males was about four foot six, and the women were slightly shorter. They are not proportionally narrow however and tended to be just as wide as a human being. Coming in not quite the variety of colors and variations of the taller people they live among, most are tan to brown skinned, and had thick locks of dark brown to black hair, as well as thick, similarly colored beards. The Short Men stayed in the mountains, living their cave-dwelling lifestyles long after humans had moved to the river valleys to invent agriculture. This served them well, for when the needs of civilization pushed technology beyond that of stone tools to copper, and then bronze, and then iron, the Short Man were sitting atop these precious resources. At first, there had been wars fought to acquire the raw materials needed by man, and the Short Men were faced with the real possibility of extinction, but they learned compromise and accommodation and became part of the procurement process of the riches of what they called "the tall man's world." Over the centuries, they parleyed their control of rich metals into the control of even more rich metals, and the paper representation of those metals. Today the Short Men are an integral part of the financial world of Greater Brechalon and most of the other nations on the continent of Sumir. They own a great many banks and brokerage houses, and those they do not own, they manage.

Shrine

A Zaeri house of worship.

Silver Pendulum, The

_The Silver Pendulum_ is the only novel by Marcus Andreasen. It is considered macabre and frightening and most young Brech women will not admit to having read it, even though most have.

Sinceree Palace

The largest royal residence in Brech City, Sinceree Palace is the official home of the King when he resides in the city. It is notable for its bright white marble façade, trimmed with Erechon quartz, a translucent blue stone found only at the southern end of the Island of Erechon.

Siris

Siris is one of a pantheon of gods worshipped by the ancient Argrathians. Siris was goddess of the moon and eventually the sun as well. Siris was well on her way to becoming the focus of a monotheistic religion, when Zaeri supplanted the native Argrathian beliefs. Priestesses of Siris played an important cultural role in carrying out wills and serving as arbiters of disagreements. They were required to remain virgins, and a failure to do so resulted in expulsion from the order, and sometimes death.

Skajick

People of the northern subcontinent of Abrax are known as the Skajick. The Skajick became active as raiders about 1000. By 1800, two Skajick empires had formed on the southern coast of Abrax—Skagia and Tvarik.

Snowflake, H.M.S.

A battle sloop in the Brech navy, Snowflake was a new class ship, designed to attack airships and submarines.

Socialism

Socialism is a theory or system of social organization that advocates the vesting of the ownership and control of the means of production and distribution, of capital, land, etc., in the community as a whole. Though embraced by large segments of the population, as well as writers like Kazia Garstone, Socialism remains an unpopular idea among the ruling elite in Brechalon, Mirsanna, and Freedonia.

Softskins

The term used by lizardmen of Birmisia to describe human beings.

Soldier's Memory, The

A book of poetry by Leda Schraam.

Somersby Women's Etiquette and Fashion

A popular magazine published in Brech City, _Somersby Women's Etiquette and Fashion_ is second only to Brysin's in popularity.

Song of Seven Secrets

The longest novel by Sable Agria tells the story of a group of friends caught up in an ever-increasing web of lies.

Sorcerer

A Sorcerer is a magic-user with a natural affinity toward magic. They are able to cast spells without the complex equations used by Wizards, and therefore can cast spells repeatedly, without having to restudy mathematical equations. Female sorcerers are called sorceresses and are more common that the males, though both are quite rare.

Sorceress

(See Sorcerer)

Springtime Revolution

An anti-monarchical novel by Vance Suddeth, _Springtime Revolution_ resulted in its author being imprisoned by the Freedonian authorities.

Sigils

Tattoo-like marks that appear on the skin of wizards and sorcerers, sigils are caused by magic energy being channeled through the body. High level conjuring and evocation spells (such as creating matter, teleporting, and summoning), in particular can produce sigils, while enchantments and transmutations are much less likely to leave marks. Sigils usually form symbols or images reflected the focus of magic near the magic-user. Zurfina the magnificent had eight sigils, 5 five-pointed stars, a flaming sun, and a crescent moon. By 1905, Senta had six sigils: 4 five-pointed stars and two dragons. By 1923, she had sixteen: eight additional stars and two additional dragons.

Spit-N-Gag

A colloquial term for the language of the Birmisian lizardmen. The language, which has no actual name, contains many more "s" and "t" sounds than most human languages, and is notable for a lack of labials, such as "m," as lizardmen have no lips. Many humans have mastered spit-n-gag and can speak the lizardman language fluently.

Steam

A novel by Kasia Garstone, _Steam_ tells the story of workers on Brechalons railroads.

Steam-Powered Mouse, The

A novel by the Mirsannan writer Anapurna Sevo, _The Steam-Powered Mouse_ tells the story of a tiny fictional nation that goes to war with Brechalon, Mirsanna, and Freedonia and wins because of technological superiority.

Stolz, Leda

A poet and playwright, Leda Stolz was imprisoned in Brech for contributing to the delinquency of a minor, when her affair with a Duke's seventeen-year-old daughter came to light.

Suddeth, Vance

A modern Freedonian writer, Vance Suddeth was imprisoned for 12 years after the publication of his book _Springtime Revolution_.

Sumir

The smallest of the world's twelve continents, Sumir is home to Brechalon, Mirsanna, Freedonia, and all the other homelands of humanity.

Suusthek

One of the great city-states of lizardmen in Birmisia, Suusthek was destroyed by Zurfina the Magnificent.

Sundrop Fruit, The

A book by Shia Toler.

Superb, H.M.S

One of the newest battleships of the Royal Navy of Greater Brechalon, Superb saw service against the Red Sashes and their allies in Enclep as well as against Freedonian and Mirsannan ships of war.

Swentarra

Swentarra is one of the Mullien Islands, a vast chain northeast of Sumir. Swentarra is a small island, with no known ports or major settlements. It is populated by several villages of natives who live a simple life of hunting and fishing.

Szague

Capital of Borazon, Szague began as a small town in the early 600s. Known cold winters and cool summers, Szague boasts a population of just over one million.

Tall Man's World

An expression used by the Short Men to describe the world and their place within it.

Tatum, Rikkard Banks

A popular Brech pulp author, Rikkard Banks Tatum has written more than 100 novels, mostly science fiction, and all of featuring high adventure.

Tea Room, The

A novel by Walter Grace.

Teachings of Kafira, The

The Teachings of Kafira is the Zaeri term for The Modest Scriptures, which form the second half of the Kafirite Holy Book. The Zaeri do not share the belief that Kafira is the daughter of God, and hence do not hold the teachings of her or her apostles to be holy. However, she is still recognized as a Zaeri Imam, and so her teachings command a certain amount of respect.

Teddy Sweet Men

A popular snack in Brech, Teddy Sweet Men are tiny biscuits cut in the shape of soldiers, baked, and dusted with sugar.

Telegraphs Memories

An epistolary novel by Dorrit Quinn.

Telmatosaurus

A small dinosaur similar in built to iguanodons, but smaller, Telmatosaurus is usually less than 16 feet from nose to tail when fully grown. They are found in the hills south of Port Dechantagne in Birmisia.

Terrence Dechantagne Boulevard

The main north-south roadway in Port Dechantagne. It features two traffic lanes in each direction and a trolley path between them.

Thiss Regatta

The Thiss Regatta is a sailing boat race held each year in the River Thiss near Brech City. It is an event usually attended by the Brech aristocracy.

Thiss, River

The River Thiss (pronounced Tiss) is a large, navigable river that runs northward through the island of Brechalon. It runs through the center of Brech City and is too wide to be bridged.

Three Marks for a Pfennig

A rather uninspired novel by Sable Agria, _Three Marks for a Pfennig_ extolls the virtues of chastity, honesty, and frugality.

Tideburg

A small city in northern central Freedonia.

Time and Space

A large science volume by Phoebus Dodson.

Toad in the Hole

Toad in the hole is a traditional Brech dish consisting of sausages in brown pudding batter, usually served with vegetables and onion gravy.

Toler, Shia

A Mirsannan author.

Tommulon

Tommulon was one of a pantheon of deities worshiped in ancient Donnata. Tommulon was the goddess of battle and along with the other gods of the pantheon was adopted by the Mersh and the Rundak.

Treffia

Treffia was one of two deities worshiped in ancient Akkas. Treffia was the aspect of darkness and was directly opposed to his twin: Juton. Though both names have been found on the few ancient monuments that remain of Akkas, little is known of their temples or religions practices.

Treuary

Treuary is the third month under the modern reformed calendar. Like all the months except Hamonth, it has 30 days. Treuary 21st is the first day of Spring. Treuary 1st is Iolana Staff's birthday.

Trials of Kafira

A religious text by Shrem Tunney which analyzes the teaching of Kafira with an emphasis on chastity.

Triceratops

The triceratops is a Birmisian dinosaur notable for its heavy quadrupedal form, as well as the three large horns on its face, boy frill around its neck, and its beaked mouth. Individual Triceratops have reached about 30 feet in length, 10 feet in height, 10 tons. With one of the largest skulls of all land animals, the triceratops bears a single horn on the snout, above the nostrils, and a pair of horns approximately 3 feet long, with one above each eye. To the rear of the skull was a relatively short and quite solid, bony frill, which is flushed with blood for display. The skin of Triceratops is unusual compared to other dinosaurs, covered in bristly hair-like structures. Three baby triceratops were captured by colonists at the time of Port Dechantagne's establishment. These three specimens, raised by humans, eventually were trained to pull trolley cars on the city track, leading to the capture and taming of others of their kind.

Trifle

Trifle is a dessert dish made from thick (or often solidified) custard, fruit, sponge cake, fruit juice or jelly, and whipped cream. These ingredients are usually arranged in layers.

Trippia

An ancient civilization north and west of Brechalon, Trippia was only in existence from about -5200 to -4950. Little remains of Trippia. Most of what is known comes from the scholars of Ballar and Uarm, the kingdoms that occupied the land after Trippia. The most startling fact known is that the Trippians evidently had complex plumbing with flushing toilets.

Trolley

A trolley (trolleycar, or trolley car) is a rail vehicle which runs on tracks along public urban streets, and also sometimes on separate rights of way. Trolleys in Brechalon are pulled by draft horses and are sometimes referred to as horsecar railways. In Birmisia, the trolley is pulled by triceratops. In Mallontah, the trolley cars are steam powered

Trolley, The

A collection of stories by Baumgarten Glines which center around a magical trolley that takes poor orphans away from the city to a magical land.

Trumpet, S.S.

One of several ships chartered to bring supplies to Brech Birmisia, S.S. Trumpet was the second ship to do so, and the first to bring pigs and sheep to the new colony.

Tsahloose

One of the great city-states of lizardmen, Tsahloose is located in southern Birmisia.

Tsaua

The traditional greeting among lizardmen of Birmisia, tsaua roughly translates to "how are you?"

Tsotollah

One of the great city-states of the lizardmen in Birmisia.

Tserich

A native village in Birmisia, Tserich was the first to contact the Brech settlers upon arrival.

Tsuus

One of the closer lizzie cities to Port Dechantagne in Birmisia. Lizzies from Tsuus were some of the first to form trade relations with Brechs upon their arrival in Mallon.

Tunney, Shrem

A Brech writer, known for his conservatism.

Turripi Cheese

Turripi cheese is an aged, hardened cheese used in traditional Zaeri cooking. It is usually shaved or grated into foods.

Tuustutu

A native village in Birmisia.

Tu-Riven

Like the Rundak, the Tu-Riven were barbarian invaders from central Sumir, at their height of power about -850.

Twentieth, The

The twentieth of each month is the traditional day of starting new tasks.

Two Men Travel

A short novel by Cathal Parvis, _Two Men Travel_ tells the story of two friends who journey down the Thiss having silly adventures.

Tyrannosaurus

The Tyrannosaurs is a large bipedal carnivore with a massive skull balanced by a long, heavy tail. Common throughout Birmisia, the Tyrannosaurus is an apex predator, hunting iguanodon, triceratops, and sauropods, though they will often steal the kills of other predators. Relative to the large and powerful hind limbs, Tyrannosaurus forelimbs are small, though unusually powerful for their size, and bear two clawed digits. Sporting a black body and blood-red head, the Tyrannosaur measures from 40 to 50 feet in length and can stand up to 15 feet tall at the hip. Females are generally larger and more aggressive than the males. Tyrannosaurs usually hunt singly or in mated pairs, but on rare occasions, groups of five to eight male tyrannosaurs will gang together and sweep a region clear of all life forms big enough to be counted as prey.

Uarm

The Uarm were an ancient people from the interior of Sumir who migrate north to the coast about -4400 into the land of Trippia. They were a matriarchal society who built cities around strange temple towers. They were conquered by the Ballar about -3350.

Unenlagia

A dinosaur/bird of Birmisia, the unenlagia is very similar to the velociraptor and deinonychus, closer in size to the latter, but features much longer and more colorful feathers and are notably less aggressive.

United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon

The Kingdom which encompasses the five major islands of Greater Brechalon as well as the many smaller nearby islands. Greater Brechalon was part of Rundaria after the death of Magnus the Great, and became an independent kingdom in 461 with the crowning of Harold I.

Unterirdisches Esser

A magical creature living underground, the Unterirdisches Esser is created by exposing a normal creature to magical energy over a long period of time.

Utahraptor

The utahraptor is the largest of the predatory Birmisian "birds." Standing six feet tall and up to twenty feet from nose to tail, the utahraptor has an eight-inch claw upon each foot and is covered in feathers of dark blue to turquoise. Utahraptors usually hunt in pairs.

Uuthanum

Magic spells, whether cast by a wizard or a sorcerer, must have an incantation to trigger the magic. The more complex the spell, the longer and more complex that the incantation must be. However, the magical word "uuthanum" is almost always a part of the incantation. For simple spells, it may be the entire incantation in and of itself. The word predates all presently known languages and its original meaning is lost to time.

Vaterland, S.S.

One of a number of Freedonian ships hired to deliver Zaeri to Birmisia.

Velociraptor

The velociraptor is the most common of the predatory Birmisian "birds." Standing two and a half feet tall and up to five feet from nose to tail, the velociraptor has a three-inch claw upon each foot and is covered in feathers of green, with color details that vary from group to group. Velociraptors usually hunt in groups of seven to nine and are happy to scavenge from human garbage.

Villa Cochon

A small village just east of Port Dechantagne in Birmisia Colony.

Villa Colonie

Villa Colonie is a small town on the Isle of Petitt Elvert, in the channel.

Virgin, Argrathian

Priestesses of Siris in Ancient Argrathia, the Virgins became legendary for their adherence to a life of chastity. Indeed, the penalty for not doing so could, in some cases, be death.

Virgins in Spring

A novel by Sable Agria, _Virgins in Spring_ concerns the fall of the main character after she gives away her virginity before marriage.

Visio

(See White Opthalium.)

Voindrazius

A red dragon who made his home in Sumir, Voindrazius was first mentioned in Misoan records dated 480, though it is believed he was old at that time. The last recorded sighting was in 1819 north of Bangdorf.

Volcano in Winter

The most popular book by Freedonian writer Angana Hedrick.

Wahlstedt

A small town in Freedonia near the port city of Friedaport.

Waif des Vaterlands, S.S.

A smaller cargo/passenger vessel traveling from Friedaport to Mallontah.

Warlick, Lamis

A modern Dallorian writer.

Way of Life, The

A long novel by Indrajit Klumb, _The Way of Life_ is an indictment of socialist principals.

Weevoc, Orian

A Brech author who emigrated to Forland.

West Brumming

West Brumming is a small town about fifty miles north of Brech City.

Westmacott, Dillan

A popular Brech writer.

West Wills

One of four district areas in the port city of Redgepool.

Whale, Common Brech

Found in the waters around Brechalon, Mirsanna, and Freedonia, the common Brech Whale or White Whale grows to the length of ten feet and is a slender torpedo-shaped aquatic animal.

Whale, Great

More than thirty feet long, and weighing up to fifty tons, the Great Whales are common to the cold waters around Enclep and the Mulliens as well as the far north.

Whipple Avenue

One of the east-west roads in Port Dechantagne.

Whispy

Whispy is a classic Brech trick-taking card game. Although the rules are extremely simple, there is enormous scope for scientific play. Unlike Canals, it can be played by any number of players.

White Opthalium (Visio) (See Spice)

Also known as Visio or See Spice, White Opthalium is a magical drug produced largely in Enclep. It is made of enchanted lotus blossoms and a rare blue fungus native to that land. It is used by rubbing it directly onto one's eyeballs. All users of White Opthalium share a fantasy vision of a land with bizarre purple flowers and a perfect fantasy lover. The drug is highly addictive.

White Sea

A novel by Freedonian author Owena Frylander.

Whitney, Samson

A Brech novelist and poet.

Who Live in My House?

This novel by Abel Bonaventura tells the story of a man dying and looking back on an empty life.

Wide Open, The

_The Wide Open_ is a novel by Tracy Burson which extolls the principals of conservation and care of natural resources. It is popular for its sweeping descriptions of the wide-open lands of central Sumir.

Wild Woman, The

_The Wild Woman_ is a pulp adventure novel by Rikkard Banks Tatum.

Windemere, S.S.

One of the transport ships making the run from Brechalon to Birmisia.

Wise Little Children

A novel by Samson Whitney.

Wise men

A novel by Freedonian author Owena Frylander.

Wissinger, Isaak

A Freedonian Zaeri writer, Isaak Wissinger was imprisoned in the Zurelendsviertel ghetto along with tens of thousands of other Zaeri, where Zurfina the Magnificent rescued him. He then relocated to Birmisia.

Wizard

One of the two types of magic users, Wizards tap into magic by using mathematics. They create long and complex equations to create magical spells. Each time they cast a spell, it is lost, and they must reset their minds to be ready for it, by studying their equations once again. Wizards may compensate for this by recording equations which can be cast by igniting them with very small spells (cantrips). Wizards can be either male or female, though historically women have had less access to the education required.

Worron

Worron was one of a pantheon of deities worshiped in ancient Donnata. Worron was the death god and along with the other gods of the pantheon was adopted by the Mersh and the Rundak.

Wyvern, HMS

The HMS Wyvern was a Brech Galleon (sometimes called a battleship in the Brech histories). It was sunk off the coast of Brechalon in a storm in 1574 in a storm. Timbers were later recovered and built into a pair of desks. One desk is in use by the King and the other by the Prime Minister.

Xygia

About -2650, tribes from central Sumir migrated to the land of Argrathia, interbreeding with the remaining Argrathian stock. Bringing new farming techniques, they prospered and formed a complex society. By -2000 Xygia was a powerful empire. By -1000 it had grown to cover most of eastern Sumir. By year 0, most of Xygia was conquered by Magnus the Great. After the death of Magnus in year 7, Xygia again became an independent kingdom, although Zaeri had become the dominant faith. In year 9, Kafira Kristos began teaching in Xygia. In year 13, she was tried for heresy and crucified. Almost immediately her small cult expanded into a religion. In 16, Kafirism became the dominant religion in Xygia.

Year

A year consists of 375 days. The yearly calendar established by King Magnus the Great, consists of twelve 30-day months and one 15-day month. The months are, in order: Restuary, Festuary, Treuary, Quaduary, Pentuary, Sexuary, Septuary, Octuary, Novuary, Decius, Magnius, Kafirius, and Hamonth (Half Month).

Year in Hell, A

_A Year in Hell_ by Abban Keiman tells the story of a midshipman in the Brech navy.

Zaer, Kingdom of

The Kingdom of Zaer was one of the successor states of Magnus the Great's Zur Empire.

Kafirism became the official religion of Zaer in year 129, and for 300 years, some of the worst persecution of ethnic Zaeri occurred there. Zaer and neighboring Mirsa combined in 1744 to become modern Mirsanna.

Zaeri

The Zaeri religion began in ancient Zaerphon as an offshoot of the Ballar Pantheon. In Neo-Zaerphon, Zaeri became a monotheistic religion and over the next two thousand years, spread over northwest Sumir. One of the new converts to Zaeri was the Kingdom of Archero, where great works based on Zaeri themes were created. This inspired King Marius of Zur to conquer Archero and to adopt Zaeri as the official religion. When his grandson, Magnus the Great, conquered the known world, he spread Zaeri religion across the continent. But in year 16, a variation of Zaeri, Kafirism, rose to replace the original church. By modern times, Kafirites dominate the world. Fewer than 5% of humans are Zaeri adherents. Modern Zaeri worship in shrines and are led by a religious teacher called an Imam.

Zaeritown

The portion of any city that it predominantly Zaeri in population, the term Zaeritown may be fairly innocuous as in its use in Birmisia, or it may refer to ghettos as in Freedonia.

Zaerphon

A huge empire built from the ashes of Ballar, ruled by the priest-kings of the god Jormah (who had been a sky deity of the Ballar pantheon). Over the course of 700 years from -2600 to -1900, the Zaeri (worshippers of Jormah) gradually became a monotheistic religion.

Zeets

A derogatory term for those of the Zaeri faith or ethnicity.

Zur, Empire of the

The most important ancient civilization, Zur was founded by migrants from the northern coast of Sumir. From about -1100 until -180, Zur remained a small empire, copying the culture of the Olgons and the Zaerphon. In -180, King Marius began expanding, conquering Archero (converting to Zaeri) and defeating the Tu-Riven. When Marius died in -19, his grandson Magnus succeeded him and began a great journey of conquest around the continent. When he completed, his "unification of the world," Magnus declared a new birth of civilization, established a new calendar, and spread the Zaeri religion across the known world. When Magnus died in year 7, his empire split into eight successor states.

Zurelendsviertel

A Zaeri ghetto in the Freedonian city of Gartow, Zurelendsviertel was home to as many as 100,000 ethnic Zaeri crowded together at gunpoint by order of King Klaus II. Many thousands died of starvation, while others were murdered by Freedonian soldiers.

# About the Author

Wesley Allison is the author of more than thirty science fiction and fantasy books, including the popular _His Robot Girlfriend_. He has a Bachelor of Science degree from the University of Nevada, Las Vegas and a Master of Science degree from Nova Southeastern University in Florida. He has taught English and American History for the past 26 years in Southern Nevada where he lives with his lovely wife Victoria, his two grown children Rebecca and John.

For more information about the author and upcoming books:

Visit the City of Amathar Blog at http://wesleyallison.com.

If you would like to become a patron and supporter of this author and his works,

and receive insider information and free ebooks:

Visit the Patreon Page at http://www.patreon.com/wesleyallison
Books by Wesley Allison

Look for them wherever fine ebooks are sold. Paper editions are available at the City of Amathar Blog and by special order from your favorite bookseller.

Princess of Amathar

Transported to the artificial world of Ecos, Earthman Alexander Ashton struggles to understand the society of his new friends the Amatharians. As he does so, he finds himself falling in love with their princess and being thrust into a millennium-long war with their mortal foes the reptilian Zoasians. Princess of Amathar is a sword-swinging novel of high adventure.

His Robot Girlfriend

Mike Smith's life was crap, living all alone, years after his wife had died and his children had grown up and moved away. Then he saw the commercial for the Daffodil. Far more than other robots, the Daffodil could become anything and everything he wanted it to be. Mike's life is about to change.

His Robot Wife

In His Robot Wife, the novella-length sequel to His Robot Girlfriend, it is the year 2037 and Mike has been married to his robot wife, Patience, for five years. Troubles are on the horizon though. Prop 22 promises to annul marriages between humans and robots. And Patience hasn't quite been herself. Is there something wrong, or does she just need a software upgrade?

His Robot Wife: Patience is a Virtue

It is the year 2037, when men are men and robots are cute. Patience, the robot wife, has a new friend– Wanda. Wanda, another Daffodil, has been having difficulty bonding with her human, the recently divorced Ryan. She hopes that with Patience's mentoring, she'll be able to help Ryan accept her into his troubled life. But even Patience isn't prepared for what happens when they take a joint vacation cruise to Antarctica. _His Robot Wife: Patience is a Virtue_ is a science fiction story in a world where technology is more than just a pretty face.

His Robot Girlfriend: Charity

Robotics engineer Dakota Hawk has problems. His life is falling apart. And even he doesn't know why he bought a used, and seemingly non-functional, Daffodil Nonne. When your life turns to crap, which should you worry about more– your past or your future? How easy is it really to remake yourself and start over? And will having your own robot girlfriend help or make things even more difficult?

His Robot Wife: A Great Deal of Patience

Mike Smith and his robot wife Patience have overcome a great many obstacles in their life together. No obstacle is quite as great as a world war. As the United States, China, Europe and India mobilize against the shadowy Anarchists, who have carved vast swaths across Africa, the Middle East, and Russia, Mike and Patience deal with the fallout at home, and the public's changing perceptions of robots. Meanwhile, Mike's son Lucas finds himself in the heart of the conflict as he takes command of robot soldiers leading America's war effort. A Great Deal of Patience is the first book of a new trilogy that ties together the previous books: _His Robot Girlfriend_ , _His Robot Wife_ , _His Robot Wife: Patience is a Virtue_ , and _His Robot Girlfriend: Charity_.

His Robot Wife: Patience Under Fire

_Patience Under Fire_ is the second book of the trilogy that began with _A Great Deal of Patience_. Lucas Smith must lead his robot soldiers through the radiation-strewn battlefields of eastern Russia, as his wife makes her way to America, and the rest of his family, including Mike and Patience must try to carry on their lives in an America that is changing as a result of the worldwide conflict.

Eaglethorpe Buxton and the Elven Princess

Eaglethorpe Buxton, famed adventurer and story-teller, friend to those in need of a friend and guardian to those in need of a guardian. He is a liar and braggart, not to be trusted, especially around pies. Who are we to believe? Buxton himself leads us through his world as he comes to the aid of... a poor orphan? An elven princess? Who can guess with Eaglethorpe himself telling the tale?

Eaglethorpe Buxton and the Sorceress

Eaglethorpe Buxton, famed adventurer and storyteller is back, this time to put on a play about a sorceress. When the sorceress, subject of his play arrives with fire in her eyes, Eaglethorpe must pretend to be his good friend Ellwood. Will he pull off this charade and survive? And what happens when the real Ellwood shows up? One can never tell, especially when Eaglethorpe tells the story.

The Many Adventures of Eaglethorpe Buxton

Eaglethorpe Buxton, famed adventurer and story-teller, friend to those in need of a friend and guardian to those in need of a guardian. He is a liar and braggart, not to be trusted, especially around pies. Who are we to believe? Buxton himself leads us through his world in The Many Adventures of Eaglethorpe Buxton, which include the two previously published tales and three all new adventures.

Brechalon (The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 0)

Brechalon is the novella-length prequel to The Voyage of the Minotaur and the books that follow in the story of The Sorceress and the Dragon. Meet the people who will change a world-- the Dechantagnes, wealthy siblings from a disgraced aristocratic family who plot their revenge; the imprisoned sorceress Zurfina; and Senta, the orphan girl who will one day rise to great fame and power.

The Voyage of the Minotaur (The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 1)

In a world of steam power and rifles, where magic has not yet been forgotten, an expedition sets out to establish a colony in a lost world. The Voyage of the Minotaur is a story of adventure and magic, religion and prejudice, steam engines and dinosaurs, angels and lizardmen, machine guns and wizards, sorceresses, bustles and corsets, steam-powered computers, hot air balloons, and dragons.

The Dark and Forbidding Land (The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 2)

Two years have passed since Senta, the sorceress Zurfina, and Bessemer the steel dragon arrived in the strange land of Birmisia. Now it is up to the settlers to build a home in this dark and forbidding land, ruled by terrifying dinosaurs and strange lizardmen. Ten-year-old Senta must discover which is the greater threat, a would-be wizard or the ever-increasing presence of the tyrannosaurus.

The Drache Girl (The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 3)

More than three years have passed since the colonists arrived in Birmisia, and Port Dechantagne is a thriving colony, with the railway line almost complete. Twelve-year-old sorceress's apprentice Senta Bly, Police Constable Saba Colbshallow, and former maid Yuah Dechantagne must deal with wizards, prejudice, steam carriages, boys riding dinosaurs, and the mysterious activities of the lizardmen.

The Young Sorceress (The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 4)

Everyone in Port Dechantagne seems to have an agenda of their own, from mysterious sorceress Zurfina, to agents from the enemy nation of Freedonia, to the kings and witchdoctors of the mysterious lizardmen. On the eve of her fifteenth birthday, sorceress's apprentice Senta finds herself being pulled first one way and then the other. Will she actually have to split herself into four in order to deal with all her responsibilities?

The Two Dragons (The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 5)

War has come the Birmisia. The newly settled colonists contemplate war on two fronts. The mysterious lizardmen from far away Tsahloose, led by their monstrous dragon god, threaten from the south. And from across the sea, the totalitarian kingdom of Freedonia threatens to invade their world with wizards and steam-powered war machines. Can even 17-year-old Senta and her mistress Zurfina the Magnificent stop them?

The Sorceress and her Lovers (The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 6)

It's been three years since the war and the world has changed. Port Dechantagne, once a distant outpost of civilization, has grown to be a large city, the center of prosperous Birmisia Colony. Steam-powered carriages share the streets with triceratops-pulled trolleys; fine ladies in their most fashionable bustle dresses lead their lizardmen servants through the shopping districts, and an endless stream of immigrants pours into the region.

Eleven-year-old Iolana Staff, daughter of the colonial governor, has important things on her mind, namely the mysterious Result Mechanism. Meanwhile, sorceress Senta Bly returns from the continent with a new male companion, an illegitimate daughter, and a long lost brother. Hated and feared for her magic, she must face wizards, assassins, and an old enemy from another reality.

The Price of Magic (The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 7)

New powers are rising in Birmisia. Far to the south, the strange lizardmen of Xiatooq are making themselves known. Closer to home, the new lizzie city Yessonarah finds itself rich in gold—gold the humans covet. As tensions rise, many in Port Dechantagne seem eager to teach the lizzies a lesson in humility. Fourteen-year-old Iolana Staff finds herself in the center of it all, as she is pulled between her conscience and the conventions of society. Unconcerned with the conflict between human and lizzie, sorceress Senta Bly prepares for her own war, unaware that events will pull her into a life and death confrontation with an old enemy.

A Plague of Wizards (The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 8)

Senta Bly, the most powerful sorceress in the world has disappeared and no one knows where or why. What happens to Port Dechantagne and Birmisia without her protection for four years? Wizards with all sorts of their own agendas descend on the colony, and the citizens must cope the best they can. Nineteen-year-old Iolana Staff lives the life of a famous author, far away in the capital city, but how does her friend Esther, the only Birmisian lizzie on the continent deal with human society? Meanwhile Iolana's cousin Terra has made the journey to the lizzie city of Yessonarah, to learn what living in the palace of a reptilian king is really like.

T **he Dragon's Choice (The Sorceress and the Dragon Book 9)**

The dragons seemingly have returned to the world and are once again in vying for power. Bessemer the steel dragon is worshipped by the reptilian lizzies, while the evil Voindrazius tries to put together a pantheon that he will control. Zoantheria, the coral dragon, feels pulled in all directions. Wanted both by Bessemer and Voindrazius, she is called to a world she has never known, her mistress, the sorceress Senta Bly encouraging her to take up the mantle of goddess. Her heart, however, is pulling her in a different direction, toward the young viscount Augustus Dechantagne. Which will prove stronger-- love or destiny? Both Senta and Augie have their own problems, hers with teaching her wayward eponymous daughter the ways of magic, and him dealing with the yoke of leadership and a headstrong mother. Meanwhile, far across the ocean, the Dechantagne girls are taking Brech City by storm. Will one of them land a prince?

Tesla's Stepdaughters

In a world where men are almost extinct, someone is trying to kill history's greatest rock & roll band. Science Police Agent John Andrews must negotiate a complicated relationship with Ep!phanee, the band's lead singer; drummer Ruth De Molay, bassist Steffie Sin, and the redheaded clone lead guitarist Penny Dreadful, as he protects them and tries to discover who wants to kill the Ladybugs.

Women of Power

The life of a superhero is tough. All American Girl fights super villains, alien invaders, and terrorists as she tries to get product endorsements and a magazine deal. That's nothing compared to her private life though. She's only just broken up with her super boyfriend Perihelion when he's scooped up by Omega Woman, and now rival Skygirl has moved into her territory.

Blood Trade

Vegas is going to hell-- really. Werewolves run through the streets and the vampires are taking over. Former army ranger/Goth tattoo model/private eye Xochitl McKenna doesn't like it either, especially when it comes between her and her clients. But are the vampires and werewolves the greatest threat, or is it something or someone much closer to her? Warning: Adult Content.

Kanana: The Jungle Girl

In a world substantially different from our own world in 1913, former Rough Rider and adventurer Henry Goode crosses the vast ocean to explore the unknown continent of Elizagaea. Spurred on into the wilderness by emotional trauma, he finds vicious creatures from a bygone era, savage natives, long lost civilizations, and a mysterious jungle goddess.

Nova Dancer

Captain Rann Starr and his small crew fly through the galaxy in their starship Nova Dancer, carrying freight and the occasional passenger from planet to planet. When one of the Dancer's crew goes missing, Starr has a big decision to make.

Astrid Maxxim and her Amazing Hoverbike

From the 180,000-acre campus of Maxxim Industries, fourteen-year-old girl genius and inventor Astrid Maxxim works alongside her father, Dr. Roger Maxxim, on projects to make the world a better place. Her latest invention is a flying scooter—the hoverbike. Is it the target of an international spy ring, or are they after secret Project RG-7, or Astrid herself?

Astrid Maxxim and her Undersea Dome

Girl inventor Astrid Maxxim and her friends are back. This time Astrid is building an observation dome beneath the sea. Will she complete her amazing construction project, or will she be sidetracked by underwater monsters, the evil organization known as the Black Hand, or her snotty cousin Gloria?

Astrid Maxxim and the Antarctic Expedition

Teen inventor Astrid Maxxim is back in her third adventure as she makes a journey to the bottom of the planet to uncover the secrets of a mysterious lost expedition. Meanwhile, troubles plague her friends and family as a hostile takeover threatens Maxxim Industries. Join Astrid and her friends as she faces the frozen dangers of the Antarctic, wild animals, mad bombers, and corporate high finance.

Astrid Maxxim and her Hypersonic Space Plane

Everyone's favorite girl inventor is back. The Maxxim space program is in full swing, ferrying supplies to the International Space Station, as Astrid perfects her ground-launched rocket plane. To finish it, she must first deal with Maxxim's new automotive division, a terrifying vision of the future, and an English class essay, and her cousin Gloria coming for Thanksgiving.

Astrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar Challenge

Astrid Maxxim, brilliant teenage inventor returns. Astrid is looking forward to racing against a professional driving team to prove her electric racecar can take on the gas-guzzlers. Then without warning, she wakes up in the hospital with partial amnesia. What could have happened to her? Now everyone treats her like she's brain-damaged! What if her IQ really did drop to 184? What a nightmare!

Astrid Maxxim and the Mystery of Dolphin Island

Genius girl inventor Astrid Maxxim is back! Called to the aid of her friend Océane Feuillée, Astrid leaves her friends and family to journey to an uncharted tropical paradise. Here she must use every ounce of her ingenuity to solve the mystery of Dolphin Island.

Desperate Poems

Desperate Poems is a collection of seventy poems (some more desperate than others), written over a period of forty years about life, love, desire, being young, and growing old.

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