Cissy returned to the Dechantagne estate after delivering the message to Saba Colbshallow. Cissy couldn’t read the scrawling script of the message like she could the printed words in books, but she knew what it said. It informed the young corporal that Mr. Streck was off the premises and that he should be watched. It was amazing what could be discovered by standing and listening. The humans usually treated the lizzies as though they were furniture.
Tisson was at his usual place by the front door and Cissy stopped for a moment to speak to him. She placed the back of her hand on her dewlap in greeting and the gesture was returned.
“You were not gone long,” said Tisson.
“It was a simple errand.”
“Did you receive any extra copper bits?”
“Not this time.”
It had taken a while for the lizardmen to realize that the humans would often give them additional copper bits as a bonus when some tasks were completed. The humans called these “tips.” Now the lizzies looked for them.
“Kheesie was looking for you earlier.”
“Why?”
“She wants you to take your turn caring for the young one.”
Cissy bobbed her head up and down in the human fashion and started for the door.
“Ssissiatok?”
“Yes?” asked Cissy, turning around, slightly surprised by the use of her lizzie name.
“Some of the others are talking. They say Ssterrost will not let you return to Tserich.”
“I thought you didn’t want to go back either.”
“I don’t. But I am old. You are still young. You could have returned with all your wealth and had a good life. But now they are saying that you are ‘khikheto tonahass hoonan’.”
“Maybe I am human on the inside.”
Inside the house, Cissy found Kheesie.
“Thank Hissussisthiss you are back. I haven’t had a chance to sleep since yesterday.”
“The god of forests had nothing to do with it. Where is the child?”
“The thin white and brown one has it.”
“Her,” corrected Cissy. “Where are they?”
“They are in the great room, but don’t go there. The matriarch is there and so are the blind warrior and the old frightened one.”
“It is fine. You may go rest. I will watch the child.” Cissy squinted, amused.
Cissy made her way into the parlor and took a place quietly in the corner. She was not afraid of the humans in question. In fact, she found them fascinating. All of the individuals described were present—Mr. and Mrs. Dechantagne, Governor Dechantagne-Calliere, Mrs. Godwin, and of course Iolana. The lizzies had their own descriptive names for all of them; the names Kheesie had used. Professor Calliere, whom they called “the tall one who makes no sense”, was not present. Mrs. Colbshallow, whom they simply called by the human word “lady”, was in the kitchen as usual.
“I think I should have something to say about it,” Mrs. Dechantagne was saying, “because of my unique situation in this house.”
“I am well aware that you are the lady of the house now,” replied Mrs. Dechantagne-Calliere sharply. “Are you trying to rub my nose in it?”
“No! I don’t… that’s not the position to which I was referring.”
“My wife is alluding to the fact that she is the only Zaeri in the house,” said Mr. Dechantagne.
“Really? I suppose I just assumed that she was going to convert.”
“Leave that alone, Iolanthe. You know she has no desire to convert and you know that I wouldn’t have asked it of her.”
“I will leave this alone. And she must leave that alone. Mercy and his… solicitor are my concern, and I am more than capable of dealing with it.”
Mr. Dechantagne turned back to his wife, though of course he could not see her. “She’s right Yuah. You should stay out of this. You get too worked up over it. You’re too emotional.”
“I’m emotional?” cried Mrs. Dechantagne, jumping to her feet. “I’m the least emotional person in this house!
She stomped her foot twice, and marched out of the room.
“Oh, well done sister,” said Mr. Dechantagne. “Now I have absolutely no chance of a decent night’s sleep.”
“That’s your own fault. I didn’t tell you to marry her.”
“Yes, well I occasionally do things other than what you specifically tell me to do.”
“As long as you don’t forget to do those things.”
The child, who until that moment had been playing quietly on the floor with a stuffed animal, began to fuss. Mrs. Dechantagne-Calliere scooped her up and carried her from the room. The room was quiet for just a moment, and then Mrs. Godwin let out a large snore.
“Mrs. Godwin? Mrs. Godwin?”
“Yes? What? Yes?”
“Do you want to go upstairs to your room and take a nap?”
“Yes, that’s a lovely idea.” She got to her feet so slowly that Cissy took it on herself to step forward and help her. The elderly woman accepted the clawed hand and made it to her feet. She looked at the man sitting across from her. “Which one are you again?”
“Terrence.”
“Yes, of course. You were always my favorite. Have you finished your studies?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“That’s very good. You keep it up and you’ll go far in this life.”
“Do you need help up the stairs?”
“Goodness no. I can climb stairs like a pig.”
Mrs. Godwin left Mr. Dechantagne scratching his head, as she slowly walked out the door and into the foyer.
“I honestly don’t know whether or not pigs can climb stairs,” he said to himself, and then turned his head as though he was looking around the room. “Which one are you?”
Cissy looked around to find that she was the only one there besides him.
“Cissy.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, don’t you Miss Lizzie?”
Cissy hissed in confusion.
“I specifically told you not to tell anyone about our activities, and the next thing I know, you’re spilling your guts… telling everything you know to my wife.”
“She see me read. I say you teach. Nothing else.”
“Yes. At least that’s something. Did you deliver the note?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I have to go up and try to calm her down. You go outside and watch for Streck’s return. Let me know as soon as he’s here. I think there’s a bag of rock salt by the door. Take it and if anyone asks, tell them that I told you to salt the walks.”
“I haff to take care of Iolana.”
“Iolanthe’s feeding her now. She’ll go down for a nap after. I’ll listen for her.”
Cissy left the parlor, passed through the foyer, and picked up the bag of rock salt by the door before going outside. Once in the garden, she began walking up and down, spreading the salt on the cobblestone paths and the stepping stones. She looked up at the dark clouds moving in from the north. If Toss had been there, he would have been able to tell her if this was going to be the last storm of the cold season. He wasn’t there, and it was unlikely that Cissy would ever see him again.
Just then Mr. Streck walked through the front gate. Cissy was about to turn around so that she could go inside and inform Mr. Dechantagne of the Freedonain’s arrival, when she saw a bright glint shoot across the otherwise gloomy sky. The object, which it took no great intellect to recognize as the steel dragon, swooped downward. Streck had taken four steps into the yard, when the beast shot by his face so fast that he could not have seen what it was. Cissy was watching it as it sped by, and could tell not only what it was, but could see that it was carrying something wrapped in white paper, clutched tightly to its chest. The dragon was already out of sight when the Freedonian let out a blood-curdling scream. Looking back at the man, the lizzie could see cuts across his nose and both cheeks that suddenly began to bleed profusely.
She hesitated as red blood oozed from between the fingers held to his face. Saba Colbshallow suddenly appeared at the gate and rushed to the man’s assistance. He took him by the shoulder and rushed him toward the house. Cissy quickly took Streck’s other shoulder. Before they reached the steps, Streck’s legs gave out beneath him and he crumpled into half consciousness. Tisson rushed down the steps and took his legs while Saba and Cissy carried him by the arms.
Once inside, Streck was rushed to the dining room, where amid much shouting and hissing, he was laid out on the great table. Mrs. Colbshallow arrived from the kitchen and immediately ordered that clean linens and tincture of iodine be brought. Just as Clegg was arriving with the requested items, Mrs. Dechantagne-Calliere stepped into the room carrying a brown bottle of healing draught. Streck’s face, upon examination was seen to have five razor thin slices, quite deep, across its width.
“Yadira, send someone to fetch Dr. Kelloran,” said the governor as she leaned over the wounded man and carefully poured the potion onto the cuts.
“I don’t need a doctor,” said Streck.
“Be quiet. This is your face. We need to make sure that it isn’t scarred.”
Clegg was sent as directed and by the time he returned with the doctor, Streck, no longer bleeding, had been moved to the parlor.
Cissy had seen Dr. Kelloran before. She was easily recognized for her more pronounced female characteristics. She usually also, as she now did, carried her small black bag. Sitting down on the sofa next to Streck, she carefully examined his face.
“The healing draught seems to be knitting the skin together nicely, but I still want to put a stitch or two on this nose.”
“Ouch!” cried Streck, as the stitches were sewn. “Damn Birmisian birds. It flew by so fast I didn’t even see it.”
“Birmisian birds don’t fly, except for the microraptors and they stay away from humans,” said Mr. Dechantagne from the doorway. His wife was standing with him. “We have a few large flying reptiles, but I’ve never heard of one attacking a person.”
“Saba?” asked the governor.
“Sorry, I didn’t see it. I heard someone cry out and came running, but whatever it was, was gone before I got there. But your lizzie was in the yard. Maybe she saw something.”
“Cissy?” asked Mrs. Colbshallow. Cissy took a step back as all of the human eyes in the room focused on her. “Cissy, what did you see?”
“It was the little god,” she replied quietly.
“Little god?”
“She means the dragon,” said Mrs. Dechantagne. “Zurfina’s little dragon.”
“It seems, Mr. Steck,” said Governor Dechantagne-Calliere, “that you have made a powerful enemy. Just what have you done to Zurfina to raise her ire?”
“I have not even seen the woman.”
“He didn’t do anything to Zurfina,” said Saba, frowning. “I’ll wager he didn’t do anything to the dragon either. But he has had at least one well-known row with Senta.”
“That child belongs in an institution,” said Streck.
No one responded. Dr. Kelloran having finished, packed up her little black bag and the others began to disperse to other parts of the house. Cissy headed for the stairs, going up to the nursery.
Mrs. Dechantagne-Calliere had recently had new yellow curtains put up in the small room, and a new chest, now almost completely full of toys, sat in the corner. Cissy looked down into the crib. Iolana was still asleep, though she had managed to turn herself around sideways and had lost most of her blanket. After righting the child and covering her, Cissy sat near the toy box and began looking through its contents. There were many human dolls as well as stuffed animals, none of which the lizzie could identify. They looked nothing like the animals that roamed Birmisia. She wondered about the strange, distant land that could be the home to such creatures and to the humans.
When the baby began to stir, Cissy realized that she had been daydreaming for quite a while. She put all the toys away and stood up beside the crib. By the time Iolana was completely awake, the lizzie had changed her diaper and dressed her in a lovely little white dress with blue trim. The human child climbed to her feet inside the crib, holding on to the side and looked up at the reptile with her aquamarine eyes.
“Are you hungry?” asked Cissy in her native language.
“Da, da, da.”
“Dak, dak, dak,” the lizzie corrected.
“Dak.”
“Very good, child. You will be asking for food on your own very soon.”
After running a brush though Iolana’s fine golden hair, Cissy picked her up and carried her downstairs. Most likely the governor would tell her to take Iolana to the kitchen for some porridge, but sometimes she preferred to feed her in the mammalian way. She was not in the parlor, so Cissy continued back into the study. Both the governor and her husband were there.
“I haven’t taken Mr. Streck to see the Result Mechanism,” the professor was saying, “and as far as I know, he has no interest in it.”
“Oh look, Iolana is up,” said the governor, stepping forward and taking the child from Cissy’s hands. “Look how big she is getting.”
Calliere muttered something. Cissy took her position against the wall by the door.
“Come here and say hello,” the governor directed her husband.
“I have no interest in saying hello to your child.”
“Mercy! She’s your child too.”
“Don’t make me laugh. I don’t have to have a degree in mathematics to figure out that isn’t true, and as it turns out I have three.”
The governor turned to Cissy. “Leave us.”
Outside the door, Cissy paused for just a minute.
“She was premature,” said Mrs. Dechantagne-Calliere. “She arrived early.”
“Then it was fortunate for you. Had she come to term, she might have weighed two stone, and imagine how uncomfortable that would have been for you.”
“How can you say such a horrible thing?”
“You needn’t worry about your secret getting out,” said the professor. “It would be at least as great a dishonor for me as it would be a disgrace for you.”
Cissy only had a vague idea what the conflict between the couple was about. In lizzie society, mothers never knew who their offspring were. Knowing who one’s father was as well was almost impossible to grasp.
At the library door, she stopped to look inside. When she saw that there was no one there, she entered and went directly to the far wall. Though she had read scriptures once with Mrs. Dechantagne, it was hardly enough to slake her desire for the human books. In this single room was more stored knowledge than probably existed in the entirety of Suusthek. One particular volume caught her eye, not because it stood out, but because it didn’t. It had been squeezed between two large religious texts, and turned so that the writing on the spine was not readily visible. Picking it up, she read the cover information aloud.
“Revenge by Kazia Garstone.”
There was a small slip of paper between two pages. Pulling it out, she read the writing on it as well. Breeding Booksellers Limited. Seventh of Pentuary 1897. Terrence Dechantagne. Garstone first edition. Two hundred fifty marks!
Cissy was puzzled. She knew most of the words on the slip of paper, but having never learned the concept of a receipt, she could not guess the purpose of the little paper. She looked at the text on the page that the receipt had been marking. She had to read through the passage three times before she recognized it for what it was. It was a description of the mating practices of humans.
Closing the book, she took it with her out of the library and through the kitchen. Large fluffy flakes of snow were just beginning to fall as she crossed the back yard to the rear entry of the motor-shed where her sleeping quarters were located. This was not the first book that she had borrowed from the Dechantagne library. Mr. Dechantagne had let her read the preschool primer and later a mathematics book. She had taken three other books on her own, reading them late at night when the others were asleep or during her off hours in the day.
Kheesie wasn’t in her usual spot. She must have had something else to do before retiring. Lying down on her mat, Cissy opened the book to the first page and began reading.
It was late in the afternoon when the ceremony was over and the carriages began to arrive. There had been a crowd following all the way, thanks to the fame of Tasland Miller. The occasion rested heavily on Tasland’s shoulders—it was his task to see that all things went in proper form, and after the very best Brech traditions…
Cissy continued reading until she suddenly realized that it was too dark to do so. The sky had grown overcast and the room was growing cold. She marked her place on page twenty-eight with the receipt and tucked the book under her sleeping mat. Then she got up to fill the stove with wood.
* * * * *
Yuah stared out the front window of the parlor into the garden and shivered as she watched the snow drop to the ground. She hoped this was going to be the last snowfall of the season. It was only slightly more than a month until the official start of spring. Of course in Birmisia, snow in springtime was not entirely unknown.
“Sirrek, throw another log or two on the fire please,” she said.
When there was no response, she turned around to find that it was not the lizardman servant in the room with her but the Freedonian visitor.
“How are you feeling, Mr. Streck?”
“I am sure to be fully recovered in no time,” he replied, stepping over to stand beside her in front of the window. “And did it give you great pleasure to see me bleeding?”
“Why, of course not! Whatever would make you think such a thing?”
“Because you are a Zaeri.”
“I know that you have a very low opinion of the Zaeri, Mr. Streck, but I assure you that I took no pleasure from your pain.”
“Are you sure? Are you sure that you and that Zaeri dog of a sorceress didn’t plan the attack on me?”
“First of all sir, Zurfina is no friend of mine. Not only that, but I do not believe she is Zaeri, despite her name.”
“You seem so sincere,” said Streck quietly, “but I know you are all filthy liars. Look out there. Even now, Zaeri spies stalk me.”
Yuah looked back out the window to see Hero Hertling standing casually by the front gate. Though it was not readily apparent what the ten-year-old was doing, she certainly didn’t look as though she was trying to be sneaky.
“What’s going on here?” asked Terrence from the doorway.
“Not a thing at all,” said Streck, and turning on his heel left the room.
Terrence walked carefully across the room and reaching out, found Yuah’s waist. He drew her close.
“I want that man out of my house,” she said.
“I’ll see to it immediately. He may be here a day or two though. We can’t just throw him into one of the immigrant tents in the middle of a snowstorm.”
“The immigrants are in them in the middle of a snowstorm.”
“Yes, but we have a name to live up to. You have a name to live up to.”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“And you are the lady of the house.” He grinned.
“Lady of the house…” she muttered.
“Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying the fact that since you married her brother, you have become Iolanthe’s social superior.”
“She’s still the governor and more importantly, she’s still Iolanthe. And don’t try to change the subject. As soon as there is a room available in the barracks, he’s to be moved there.”
“Your wish is my command.”
It wasn’t until three days later, during the height of the snowstorm though, that Mr. Streck was moved to an apartment on the militia base. Tisson and Sirrek carried his steamer trunk and other luggage through the white wonderland that the Dechantagne yards and the road beyond had become. Yuah made note of the fact that Hertzal Hertling, bundled up so much that he was all but unrecognizable, watched the move from just beyond the gate.
Though having Mr. Streck out of the house made Yuah feel happier, and feel safer, it didn’t help her feel any warmer. The snow continued on and on without interruption, piling monstrous drifts again around the yards and the house. Even having the lizzies shovel the steps did little to help her from feeling completely cut off from the world. After a week of continual snowfall, Yuah thought that she might very well go out of her mind, if she couldn’t get out of the house.
One morning, feeling particularly uneasy and isolated, Yuah went up to the nursery to play with Iolana. As frequently happened, she was startled to find a lizzie in the room with the child, this time more so, because the lizzie was stretched out across the floor, looking very much like an alligator swimming across a river. Sitting about two feet from the lizzie’s snout was Iolana. Both the girl and the lizzie seemed engrossed in a series of wooden block spread out between them.
“What are you doing?” asked Yuah.
“Game,” said the lizzie she now recognized as Cissy.
“What game is that? You have no game board.”
“Lizzie game.”
Yuah bent down and picked up one of the wooden blocks. A simplified image of a lizardman holding a sword had been drawn in the middle and at each of the four corners were a series of hash marks indicating numbers. Reading the numbers clockwise starting in the top left, they read two, three, two, one.
“What are these numbers?”
“Strong.”
“Oh, they tell you what this piece can do, eh?”
She picked up two more and looked at the first. This one had the image of a tyrannosaurus and was numbered ten, nine, six, and zero.
“He’s strong, but what’s this last number?”
“Suuwasuu.”
“I know that word. Power? Spirit power, yes?”
“Sss.”
She looked at the third block and saw it had a woman drawn on it—a human woman with a very large bustle. It was numbered two, zero, three, six.
“This is Zurfina?”
“No.”
“Iolanthe?”
“You.”
“Me? I don’t have any of that suuwasuu.”
Iolana, tired of looking at the pictures on the blocks, got to her feet and went kicking her way through them, scattering them around the room.
“Iolana is too young for such games,” said Yuah, picking up the child, “advanced though she is.”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to go to the library and read a book. Aren’t we, niece?”
“Dak, dak,” said Iolana.
“Iolana is hungry,” said Cissy.
“Well then, we’ll have to go down to the kitchen first and have a biscuit.”
Yuah carried the baby from the room and down the stairs, leaving Cissy to pick up her game blocks and put them back in the mesh sack from which they had originally come.
* * * * *
After gathering the game blocks and returning them to the bag, Cissy made her way downstairs. She had not expected Iolana to understand the game. She had merely wanted to familiarize her with the blocks and their stylized images. In fact, as with so many things about humans, she was fascinated by the rapid intellectual advancement of their young. True, Iolana would have been completely defenseless against predators, while lizzie young were able to run and hide as soon as they were hatched. On the other hand, lizzie offspring remained completely wild, running around the village like pests, until they were captured by their elders and tamed, usually in their sixth or seventh year. Iolana was already mimicking the adult humans, sometimes even copying Cissy, and she had not yet reached the end of her first winter.
Once downstairs, she passed through the foyer, dining room, and the kitchen, but stopped in the enclosed back porch. She dreaded going outside. The snow was coming down fiercely and it was no longer possible to tell where the walkway from the back door to the motor shed ran. There were however, quite a few trails around the shed through the snow. With more than a dozen lizzies working on the Dechantagne estate now, there was always someone going to or from the sleeping quarters.
Steeling herself, she opened the back door and walked down the steps. Though all the lizzies had been told to move slowly during the cold, she was halfway across the snow-covered yard before she heard the sound of the door slamming shut. She hurried through the door in the back of the shed and into the female sleeping quarters, to find it abnormally crowded. Several lizzies were present, but they were not lying on their stomachs. They were sitting or standing. What made the room seem so crowded though, were the five humans—soldiers with rifles, standing around the door. One of them turned and spoke to her and her stomach sank as she not only saw that he was holding the Garstone book in his hand, but that he was the infamous Sergeant Clark.
“You are Cissy, serial number 0042 BL?”
Cissy hissed, forgetting in the moment to bob her head up and down. Two of the militiamen started, but Clark didn’t. He stared at her with his beady human eyes.
“This was found under your sleeping mat.” He held out the book. “Put out your hands.”
His words didn’t register in the lizzie’s brain. She stood staring dumbly at him. Finally he reached down and pulled her left hand upward. Another soldier clamped a large iron cuff around her wrist and locked it shut with a padlock. This other soldier then put the matching cuff, connected to the first by a heavy iron chain, around her right wrist and locked it shut too. Taking hold of the chain, Clark led Cissy out into the snow.
“Come along quietly. Don’t give us any trouble.”
* * * * *
After playing with Iolana for the rest of the morning, which consisted of about five percent putting on a play with dolls as actors and about ninety five percent simply running around after the child, Yuah was completely worn out. She handed her niece over to Kheesie and ordered Sirrek to bring her a cup of tea in the parlor, even though it was only a short time until the luncheon hour. As she sat by the large window watching the huge snowflakes float down, she saw a figure dressed in black make its way across the yard, through the deepening drifts approximately where the cobblestone pathway lay.
“Sirrek, prepare another cup of tea. We have a visitor.”
A few minutes later, having shaken off the snow and having removed his outer layers of clothing, Zeah Korlann entered the parlor. Yuah jumped to her feet and embraced him.
“Papa! How wonderful to see you! I feel like it’s been at least a year. But what are you doing stomping around in a blizzard?”
“Oh, a little snow never hurt a person.” He accepted the tea and took a sip. “Mind you, I wouldn’t want to spend a night out in weather like this.”
“What are you doing here? Government business?”
“Well, to be honest, I do have a paper for Governor Dechantagne-Calliere to sign, but mostly I came to see you.” He looked at carefully at her. “I’ve hardly seen you since your… well, since you were muh… married.”
Yuah nodded.
“How is married life treating you?”
“Oh married life is fine.”
Zeah waited, but she didn’t elaborate.
“Well, um… more importantly I suppose; how are you coping with living here?”
“There you have hit the nail on the head, Papa. It’s like living inside a chess game. They keep telling me I’m the white queen, but I think I’m a pawn, or at best one of those horse thingies.”
“Zeah! How wonderful to see you!” Mrs. Colbshallow came in from the foyer. “I was just coming to tell Yuah that lunch is served. I do hope you are planning to join us.”
“Mrs. C. Why do you think that I chose this particular time of day to visit my daughter?”
Yuah was glad that her father had chosen this time to visit. Otherwise there would have been no one with whom to converse at lunch. The professor was at the head of the table and Iolana was seated in her high chair. Conversation with the one of them was almost as good as with the other. Besides them, it was just Mrs. C, Yuah and her father. Neither Iolanthe nor Terrence was present. There were though, as usual, huge platters filled with mountains of food including a large pork roast and a savory fruit and vegetable pie.
“I was hoping to run into your wife while I was here, Professor Calliere,” said Zeah. “I have a paper for her to sign.”
“Yes, yes. She’s always very busy,” said Calliere, without looking up from his magazine.
“You’ve been very busy too, Papa,” said Yuah. “I don’t think you should work this hard.”
“No help for it, I’m afraid. There’s so much to get done. Immigrants are arriving faster than we can find places for them. New construction plans are accelerating.”
“Can’t Iolanthe help you?”
“She really does have just as much to do as I do. She’s arranging more ships from Freedonia and is negotiating with the lizardmen. The chief of Chusstuss is demanding a kickback now to let his lizzies come and work in town. Seems he’s having a hard time shaking them down himself. I imagine the same is true of the other chiefs. I wonder that the lizzies don’t prove more trouble than they’re worth. Thank you.” Clegg refilled his tea cup. “I understand that you’ve had a bit of your own lizzie trouble, eh Professor?”
“Well, you have to keep an eye on these cold-blooded beasts,” said Calliere, still not looking up.
“What happened?” asked Yuah. “I didn’t know anything about it. Why doesn’t anyone tell me what’s going on?”
Calliere sighed and closed his magazine. Looking at his sister-in-law, he twisted his face into a patronizing smile. “Nothing for you to worry about. I found out that one of the lizzies had stolen something—a very expensive book.”
“A book? Which one was it?”
“I don’t know—a novel I believe.”
“No. Which lizzie was it?”
“Oh. Um, Cissy… Zizzy… something like that.”
“Cissy? Where is she?”
“I had her taken in, of course.”
“Sirrek! Sirrek! Oh, where is that lizzie?”
“What’s the matter Yuah?” asked her father.
“Clegg. Go find Sirrek or my husband.
“You seem upset,” said the professor. “Did you know something about this?”
“No. I knew that Cissy could read, and we talked about books. But I don’t know anything about this book.”
“Yes.” Calliere nodded knowingly. “Best not to put ideas into their heads.”
Clegg arrived back in the dining room to tell Yuah that both Terrence and Sirrek were in the bathroom. She hurried to the back of the house to find her husband sitting in the large copper bathtub and Sirrek pouring a bucket of hot water over his head.
“Cissy’s been arrested. She took a book apparently.”
“Oh?”
“I can’t lose her. How will I dress myself?”
“Towel Sirrek,” said Terrence, getting up. “I’ll take care of it, Yuah.”
Yuah admired her husband’s body as he climbed out of the tub. Though he was thinner than he should have been, he was mostly lean muscles and generally very tidy.
“Do you know what book it was?” asked Terrence.
“No. Is that important?”
He shrugged.
“I’ll see if I can find out.”
* * * * *
Cissy stood quietly in the corner of the room, the heavy manacles still restraining her wrists. The investigation had not taken long at all. Clark had asked her if she had taken the book and she had confirmed that she had. He didn’t seem interested in the additional information that she planned to return it. Militiamen went in and out of the door, occasionally looking at the lizzie in the corner. Each time they passed through the portal Cissy thought about hurrying through it and escaping into the forest, but she didn’t. She tried to make herself small.
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” said Clark. “Typaldos, bring the axe.”
Clark grabbed the chain between the manacles and pulled the lizzie toward the door. She started to shake as she remembered Gorr, the female who had the end of her tail chopped off. In a few minutes, Cissy too would have her beautiful tail maimed. She would not be permitted to stay in Port Dechantagne and she would not be welcomed back in Tserich. She would die alone in the forest, probably set upon by a utahraptor. They stopped several feet outside the door of the barracks.
“Stand here,” said Clark. “Cissy, serial number 0042 BL, you have been found guilty of theft in the amount…”
“Hold it,” a voice called out. A second later, Mr. Dechantagne, Sirrek guiding him by the elbow, came around the corner of the building.
“Good afternoon, Captain,” said Clark.
“This lizzie is innocent.”
“Um, she admitted taking the book sir.”
“What are you doing Terrence?” It was the governor, exiting the building opposite the one in which Cissy had been held, and walking briskly across the snowy ground. “You can’t interfere in colonial justice.”
“I would be rolling my eyes right now, if I had any. What is the lizzie accused of taking?”
“Clark?” asked the Governor.
Clark pulled the book from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Good Kafira, it’s Garstone.”
“I believe if you look inside you’ll find the book has my bookplate in it. I purchased it. I gave it to the lizzie.”
“It also says it’s worth two hundred fifty marks.”
“It’s probably worth more than that now. You always did undervalue books, sister.”
“Why would you give something so valuable to a lizzie?”
“It’s not like it’s doing me any bloody good,” he replied. “Turn her over to me, so I can get back home and out of this blasted cold.”
Cissy was unshackled and quickly fell in behind Mr. Dechantagne and Sirrek as they started toward home.
“Wait,” called the governor. She walked quickly over to Cissy and handed her the book. “Don’t let it give you any ideas.”