“Are you going to kick me out again at teatime?” asked Baxter, folding his arms and looking down at Senta.
She was reclining across a Mirsannan divan. She wore a long, flowing silk gown that completely covered her charms, though on the wall directly above her was a photograph of her and her mother reclining on the same piece of furniture—both nude. She reached up to rub her long, exposed neck. Then she ran her hand over her head, her blond tresses about the same length as his own red hair.
“Of course not,” she smiled. “I want you to be here. These girls today are my oldest and dearest friends and they’ll want to see you. Afterwards you can run along so that they can all tell me how jealous they are.”
“What about yesterday?”
“That was different. It was more of an obligation. I know that Graham’s sister will see me with you sooner or later, but I didn’t want to throw it in her face the moment I got back.”
“It’s been a long time,” he said. “He’s been gone a long time.”
“Almost four years, but when I see Gaylene, it’s like it was yesterday. Not like now—now it feels like it was eons ago. It’s a kind of magic, you know.”
“So I’m invited?”
“You’re more than invited. How did they say it when you were in the navy? You’re requested and required. You can skip out tomorrow if you like. The same girls will be back again, along with some others. But you have to be here the day after. The governor and her family are coming.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes. You’re living in sin with a very important mucky-muck.”
“Should I dress?” he asked.
“We always dress for tea in this house—unless we don’t.”
He stared at her for a moment, and then shrugged his shoulders and left the room. Senta knew he was going upstairs to dress. He had been given over for his own use one of the thirty rooms in the three-story mansion, but he had spent both nights in Senta’s bed. Looking up at the clock, she decided that she should dress too.
Climbing the stairs still causes a pain in her chest where she had been shot, but it was the only time now that she thought about it. At the top of the sweeping staircase, she waved her hand, magically summoning her lizzie dressing maid. The deep olive reptilian appeared from a room at the end of the hall and met her as she stepped into her boudoir.
One of only three servants in the house as of yet, Aggie was new. Cheery the butler, and Thonass the maid had worked for Senta for years and had taken care of the house while she was away. Thonass had given Aggie the recommendation. They were from the same family—or what passed for family among the lizzies.
“Something pretty today,” she told the reptilian. “Bring me my yellow and white striped day dress.”
“Yess.”
The dress was a traditional one. Cut for a medium-sized bustle, the skirt was vertically lined with broad yellow and white stripes while the bodice was a solid yellow with puffy frills of lace around the high neck and at the end of each long sleeve. She topped off the ensemble with yellow emeralds dangling from her pierced ears. She slipped a ring on her right hand that featured a yellow garnet. It was practically worthless, but she had purchased it in Bangdorf because she thought it was pretty.
“Nice,” said the dressing maid.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” said Baxter, stepping into the room. He was sharp in his grey suit. He was always sharp.
“Thank you, kind sir,” she said with a curtsey. “Shall we go down?”
Suddenly the baby began fussing from her crib in the next room.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” said Baxter, following her cries.
“Hmm,” she murmured, observing him. Then she turned to the dressing maid. “I’m going down to set up. Tell Thonass to find me.”
In the dining room, Senta found the table set with the everyday china, but the food for the afternoon tea filled several wooden crates stacked nearby. Having no one to cook and no one really to serve, she had ordered the tea catered from Café Etta.
“Uuthanum,” she said and the food began flying out of the crates, soaring around the room, and landing on the appropriate plates and serving platters. A spice cake was coming into a landing in the center of the table with Thonass stepped into the room.
“Take this envelope,” said Senta, retrieving the stated item from the lamp table along the wall. “Deliver it to the employment agency at the Department of Lizzie Affairs. It is a list of the other servants I shall need.”
“Yess,” said the lizzie.
As Thonass was going out, Cheery was coming in.
“Guests,” he said.
“Bring them on into the dining room please.”
The reptilian stepped out and came back a few seconds later leading three young women.
“Senta!” squealed Hero Markham, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around the sorceress’s waist. “I’ve missed you so much! Look at your hair. You look like a boy.”
“Well it’s good to be appreciated. You look wonderful. How’s the baby?”
“Brilliant.”
“She’s beautiful too,” said Gabrielle Bassett from behind Hero. She looks just like her mother.
Taller than Hero, though still shorter than Senta, Gabrielle was radiantly beautiful with sparkling blue eyes and ash brown hair. Behind her stood the third young woman. Dutty Morris was attractive but not pretty. Though her widely spaced eyes gave her a kind of blank expression, she was witty and kind.
“Hello, Gabby,” said Senta, disentangling herself from Hero and giving the other two girls quick kisses on the cheek. “Hi Dutty. Thanks for coming yesterday.”
“It was my pleasure,” said Dutty. “And I didn’t give away any of your secrets either.”
“What secrets?” asked Gabby and Hero at the same time.
“Let’s sit down,” said Senta. “I don’t want the food to go bad. I didn’t expect the weather to be this warm.”
The four women took seats on either side of the table. Neither Gabby nor Dutty gave any sign that they had noticed them, but Hero kept looking toward a fifth place setting at the table’s head, next to which sat a high chair.
“So why did she get invited yesterday?” asked Gabby, pointing at Dutty. “Hero’s your oldest friend, and I’m a much better conversationalist than this one.”
“I will concede both those points,” said Senta. “But I had tea with Gaylene and she and Dutty are about as close as you can get.”
“I’ve think I’ve just been insulted,” said Dutty.
“You have been, twice,” said Gabby. “So you wanted her here because Gaylene hates you?”
“She doesn’t hate her,” said Dutty “It’s just a complicated relationship.”
“You see?” said Senta. “She’s like the minister of state.”
“Never mind that,” said Hero, pointing to the empty seat. “What’s this then?”
“She has a man,” said Dutty, and then slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. I haven’t seen him though, but I did smell his aftershave on her yesterday.”
“I’m sorry,” said a voice over Senta’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you had company.”
The four women turned to find Peter stepping into the room from the back hallway. He stopped and smiled crookedly.
“Hi.”
“Is this him?” asked Gabrielle. “Is this your fellow?”
“No no no,” said Peter. “No no no no, no no no. I’m her brother.”
“Brother?” wondered Hero, a curious look on her face. “I’ve seen you before somewhere.”
Senta stood up and took Peter by the elbow, guiding him to the empty seat at the opposite end of the table from the spot that had so occupied Hero’s attention.
“Ladies, this is my half-brother Peter Bassington,” she said, emphasizing the “half.”
“That’s starting to feel a little hurtful,” he said, sitting down.
Senta returned to her place and handed her own plate to Peter, replacing it with her tea saucer.
“These are my friends Hero, Gabrielle, and Dutty.” Senta placed a wedge of ham sandwich on his plate. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I don’t have to stay.”
“Nonsense,” said Gabby. “How did you two get together? Did you know that Senta was your sister?”
“Um, she found me, and no.”
“I’ll tell you the whole story after we eat,” said the sorceress. “Eat your soup, girls.”
“It seems like you have way more to tell us than will fit into one tea,” said Dutty. “We won’t have time to tell you about our adventures.”
“That’s why I’m having you again tomorrow and then you’re all coming to dinner later in the week. I’m having invitations made right now. You’ll bring your husbands and children too. Gabby, have you found a young man to bring along?”
“I’ll have to choose from one of my many suitors,” she replied, fanning her face with her fingers.
“She doesn’t have anybody,” said Hero. “It’s sad really. She was dating Marzell Lance for a month or so and then she dropped him like a hot potato.”
“He dropped me. I’m sure I just didn’t seem exciting enough after he had dated the Drache Girl. But it doesn’t matter, because I just so happen to have a new young man, and he’s head-over-heels for me.”
“I can’t imagine anyone not falling head-over-heels for you,” said Peter, dreamily.
“Easy boy,” said Senta. “She’s too old for you.”
“Maybe,” said Gabrielle, as if she wasn’t so sure. “But I do have a younger sister. What trade are you in?”
“I’m a wizard,” he said, puffing up slightly.
“Oh, I’ll have to tell Abigail.”
“Now I know where I’ve seen you,” said Hero. “You were here in Port Dechantagne about six or seven years ago. You were just a kid then.”
“I hope there’s some food left,” said Baxter, suddenly striding into the room, carrying the baby. He bent down to kiss Senta on the lips before putting his charge in her high chair. The three visitors just stared at him. “Let me guess. You are definitely Hero, with beautiful black hair and exotic good looks. You have to be Gabby, with a face like an angel. So that makes you Dutty—pretty and sweet.”
“Damned with faint praise,” said Dutty. “So you’re him, eh?”
“Him who?”
“Him. Her him. The him to her her.”
“This is your man?” exclaimed Gabby. “He’s so…”
The four women finished her sentence all at the same time.
“Heroic,” said Senta.
“Distinguished,” said Dutty.
“Gorgeous,” said Gabby.
“Old,” said Hero.
“Ha!” laughed Peter, pointing at Hero but looking at Baxter. “She called you old.”
“Ladies, this is Kieran Baxter—my lover.”
Both Gabby and Dutty suddenly seemed to have trouble closing their mouths. They simply gaped open as their eyes went from Senta to Baxter to Hero to each other.
“Whose baby is that?” said Hero, suddenly pointing toward the high chair.
“That’s my daughter Senta Bly.”
“You had a baby?” wondered Dutty. “But you’re so skinny, I mean thin.”
“Senta?” said Hero. “You named your daughter Senta? How could you do this to me?”
“What are you going on about, Hero?”
“I named my daughter Senta. You should have named your daughter something else. Hero would have been a good name.”
“I already have a daughter named Hero, Hero,” said Dutty.
“That’s different. There aren’t that many Heroes.”
“I’ve seen a few,” said Gabby.
“There aren’t that many Heroes,” continued Hero, “but there are at least a hundred Sentas in Port Dechantagne, but I never minded. I knew my Senta was closest to the original because I was the Drache Girl’s oldest and dearest friend. She was special. Now you have a Senta that’s way closer because she’s your daughter and now my little Senta isn’t the special one anymore.”
“Of course your Senta is special…” the sorceress began.
“Wait!” Hero demanded. “How old is your baby?
Senta tried to remember and then looked to Baxter for help.
“She’s about to turn nine months,” he said.
“Then you were preggers when you were with us last,” gasped Hero. “You were more preggers than me and you just looked at me being fat, fatter, and you were all skinny and tall and not at all stout. It’s some kind of dirty magic trick.”
Dutty suddenly turned to Baxter. “So you’re not..? Well, who is?”
“You’ll have to get that from her, I’m afraid. She hasn’t enlightened me.”
“Hero, I’m sorry,” said Senta. “I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do something special for your little Senta and everyone will know she’s the best one.”
“So who is the father?” asked Dutty again, this time directing the question to the sorceress.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t tell?”
“Well no. There must have been hundreds of men and their todgers all looked about the same. I really was a bit of a harlot there for a while.”
“DaDa,” said the baby.
Baxter picked up a chocolate biscuit from a tray and handed it to her.
“Quiet now,” he said. “Your mother’s showing us how to make friends and influence people.”
“It seems as though Baby Senta has decided who her father is,” said Dutty. “Didn’t you hear her say Dada?”
“You know she’s lying about being a harlot, don’t you?” Gabrielle told Baxter. “There wasn’t a parade of men in and out of here.”
“There was at least one,” said Baxter. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Pass me a sandwich, please.”
“So you won’t tell us the name of the father,” Gabby said to Senta, while passing a plate of sandwiches to the gentleman.
“If that’s what you choose to believe,” said the sorceress.
“It is what I choose to believe, and I think that I’m right. Don’t you, Hero?”
“Yes, of course,” said Hero. “There weren’t many men that… oh!”
“What is it, Hero?” asked Dutty.
“Um, nothing. I mean, um, we can’t be sure, can we? Maybe there was a parade of todgers…” She clamped her hands over her face, which it was easy enough to see, was turning bright red.
“Perhaps we could stop talking about todgers,” said Peter. “It’s not my favorite subject.”
“Hear! Hear!” said Baxter. “I haven’t been to many ladies’ teas, but it never occurred to me they were so off color.”
Everyone was completely quiet for almost a minute. Then Dutty began to giggle and Senta followed. Soon everyone was laughing. By the time they were done, there was more than one pair of tear-filled eyes.
They finished eating while Senta told them of traveling to Greater Brechalon, meeting Baxter, and giving birth at the Clarkson House. She told them of her trip to Freedonia and the attempts on her life. She didn’t tell them of the encounter at the white opthalium den. Neither did she make any mention of her contact with Pantagria. Her friends were blissfully ignorant of the other world—the mysterious world connected to theirs by drugs and magic, and she could think of no benefit to enlightening them.
Senta had just begun recounting their trip aboard the S.S. Windlass, when Baxter excused himself. He picked up the baby from her high chair and carried her toward the kitchen to fix her a bottle.
“Sweet Kafira!” hissed Dutty. “What an interesting man. I never would have pictured you with his type.”
“You thought I would go for a dull man then?” asked Senta.
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” said Peter, standing up but taking another sandwich as he did so. “I’m going to go and pretend that you’ll talk about me when I’m gone.”
“Lovely to meet you, Peter,” said Gabby, but once he was gone, she turned back to Senta. “I know what Dutty means. He just doesn’t seem your sort. You know who he reminds me of? Oh, um, never mind…”
“Let’s move to the parlor,” said the sorceress.
Once there, she completed her narrative. She ended with the shooting in Mallontah.
“I wondered if you were going to say something about that,” said Dutty. “Everyone is still talking about it.”
“You heard?”
“It’s been in the Birmisia Gazette all week. I imagine it caused your cousins quite a bit of upset to have to write about it. Have you talked to them yet?”
“Um, not yet. I was going to go around and see them this afternoon. Tell me, what other news has been filling Port Dechantagne’s finest and only news sheet?”
“They’ve started construction on the University of Birmisia,” said Dutty. “They’re going to start classes in Novuary. Of course the buildings won’t be done by then, but they’ll have temporary classes until they are. I’m thinking of going for a degree myself. My family could never afford to even send the boys to university back in Brech.”
“And what would you study?” asked Senta.
“Probably political science.”
“With an eye toward doing what, exactly?”
“I’m a woman. I don’t have to do anything.”
“Warden Charmley was taken by utahraptors,” said Hero. “I always thought he was a lovely boy.”
“I did too,” said Senta. “That’s sad news.”
“Mr. Wissinger’s book is still a topic of conversation,” said Gabby.
“Yes, I even saw stacks of them in bookstore windows in Freedonia,” said Senta. “I suppose they are just as happy to blame their king for the war as everyone else is.”
“Iolana Staff has published a second book,” said Gabby. “All the girls are buying copies. I don’t think they’re reading them though. It just seems to be the fashion to have one in your handbag.”
“Is it history or mathematics?” asked Senta.
“It’s poetry,” said Hero. “I read it and thought it was rather sweet.”
“Well, she must get that from her father,” said Gabby, who then slapped her hand over her mouth.
“Well, it’s not been in the news, but Dot Shrubb is preggers again,” said Dutty.
“I’m sure that’s happy news,” said Senta. “I have always found the Shrubbs to be two of the least objectionable people I know.”
“You know you sound just like Zurfina,” said Hero. It had been an offhand remark, but now she stared into Senta’s face. “You do sound just like Zurfina.”
“Don’t worry, Hero. I’m still me. Do you remember the first thing that Graham said to you when you told him your name and Hertzel’s?”
“Yes.”
“He said ‘too bad for you’.” Senta smiled at the fond memory.
“I knew it was you all along,” said Hero.
“Do you know you have more relatives in the colony?” Dutty asked.
“No. Who?”
“It’s your cousins,” said Hero. “Bertice, Didrika, and Ernst. They arrived here a few months ago.
“Then I have much to do this afternoon,” said Senta, pouring each another cup of tea. “You’ll all come back tomorrow?”
“I’d like to bring Honor,” said Hero.
“Yes, I think you should. Gabby, you could bring Abigail.”
Half an hour later, the party was over and the visitors were being guided out the door by the butler. Senta hurried upstairs to change. Aggie was there to help her although she didn’t really need it. She stripped off the dress and the foundation garments, and then pulled leather pants, a leather corset, and high black boots from her closet. As she skipped down the stairs, she met Baxter, baby in his arms, at the halfway point.
“This is new,” he said, looking her up and down.
“Get used to it. This is how they expect me to dress here. I’m the sorceress. I’m going visiting. I’ll take the baby with me.”
“She’s about to go down for a nap,” he said.
“All the better.” She took the child from his hands.
“You’ll need some things: nappies, a blanket.”
“I thought you said she was ready to go down.”
He shrugged, and then went up the stairs to fetch the items.
“Are you taking the trolley?” he asked, when he returned.
“No, I had Cheery summon a rickshaw. It should be waiting by now.
“Maybe I should go with you. There could be another assassin laying about.”
“That won’t happen again,” said the sorceress. “It was stupid of me to let it happen the once.”
Leaving the man where he stood, she quickly made her way downstairs, and when Cheery opened the door for her, outside. A rickshaw was waiting just beyond the front portico. It was manned by a very large lizzie, well over seven feet tall with mottled olive skin and a large scar on his shoulder.
“I’ll need you for the day,” Senta told him. “Will this be enough?” She handed him two gold decimarks, knowing that it was more than enough.
He nodded and held out his hand to help her into the vehicle. She handed him the baby and climbed in. Little Senta scrunched up her face and started to cry. When Senta reached out for the child, the lizzie looked as though he was ready to turn tail and flee.
“Pay her no mind. Do you know where the publishing house is… on Clark and Forest?”
The lizzie nodded again and then took up the two shafts that stood out from the rickshaw’s front. The baby quieted as the wheels started turning. They rolled down the cobblestone path to the large wrought iron gate, on the other side of which waited several dozen looky-loos. They jumped out of the way when Senta waved her hand and the gate magically opened, and they quietly watched her as she rode by, though she could hear them murmuring excitedly to each once she was past.
It took far longer to reach McCoort and McCoort Publishing than Senta had expected. The streets were busier than they had been in Brech City, packed full of steam carriages, rickshaws, and pedestrians. Fortunately the baby had dropped off to sleep almost immediately. And everywhere they went, people stopped what they were doing and stared at them. At last, almost an hour after they had left the house, they turned the corner onto Forest and stopped.
The sorceress climbed out without waiting for the lizardman to help her. Scooping up the sleeping baby, she walked up the path and entered the front door. The smell of paper and glue was thick, as was the sound of heavy steam-powered machinery. It was half a minute before Geert stepped out from the back room.
“Kafira Kristos!” he shouted, running around the counter and grabbing Senta around the neck, waking up the baby in the process.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to blaspheme like that anymore,” she said. “Hasn’t your wife taught you how to do it the Zaeri way?”
“All of her cursing is in Freedonian. Sorry, sorry little one. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Geert patted the baby on the head. She fussed for a second and then snuggled back into her mother’s arms and closed her eyes. “I can’t believe it’s you. Seems like you’ve been gone forever.”
“Well it hasn’t been forever. It’s good to see you though.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Where’s Maro?”
“Next door at the Gazette. You’ll appreciate the headline.” He turned around and picked up the top newspaper from a stack on the counter. The headline read “Drache Girl Returns.”
“No wonder there’s a larger than usual number of gawkers outside my gate.”
“So this is your baby, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes. Meet your little cousin Senta.”
“She looks just like you did when you were little. Where’s your husband?”
“I don’t have one of those, but I do have a gentleman friend. You’ll like him. In fact, your wife is coming to tea tomorrow. Why don’t you come along? You might be able to meet him.”
“I’ll do that. I’ll take the time off and come.” He hugged Senta again and then bent down to kiss little Senta on the head. “Let’s go see Maro.”
“Of course, but first I need a copy of Iolana Dechantagne’s poetry book. A little bird told me that all the young ladies simply must have a copy.”
“Yes. I don’t quite understand that. I think they’re all making fun of her, but I haven’t exactly figured out how.” He took one of the small green leather-bound volumes from the rack and handed it to her. “Now, come on.”
He guided her by her elbow out the door and over to the newspaper building. Senta’s cousin Maro had his hand on the door handle as they entered.
“Senta!” he said, stepping back to let them in. Little Senta started squirming. “So this is the baby, eh?”
“You know about her already?”
“Oh, my spies have already reported. I can’t wait to see the governor’s face when she finds out you’ve had her husband’s baby.”
“Maro,” gasped Geert.
“Who says she’s Mr. Staff’s baby?” demanded Senta, bouncing the baby in question on her hip.
“That’s the rumor,” said Maro. “I mean, after all, where did she get that blond hair?”
“I’ve got blond hair, you bloody prat.”
“So you do. Does that mean that Staff’s not the father? Because maybe the odds won’t be so long on Marzell Lance then.”
“There’s wagering?”
“Well, not yet, but I’m sure there will be. Liam Typaldos has a line on everything of interest and nothing this good has come along in a while. The rumor says that Staff is the man, but I imagine there will be odds on Marzell, and Saba Colbshallow, and probably a few others.”
Senta counted off on her fingers, “Benny Markham, Shemar Morris, Eamon Shrubb, Alwijn Finkler, Leo Ghent, Gyula Kearn…”
“Gyula Kearn?” said Maro. “He’s old and fat, and he only has one arm.”
“But I like him,” said Senta. She reached into the top of her corset and pulled out a gold decimark, handing it to her cousin. “Put ten marks down on Isaak Wissinger. That will make him happy.”
“Is he the one?” asked Maro. “I know where I could borrow a couple of hundred. I could really make out on this. How much should I bet?”
“You shouldn’t bet anything,” hissed Geert. “She’s your cousin.”
“No you shouldn’t bet anything,” said Senta leaning close and putting her mouth by his ear, “because no one will ever find out the truth.”