The Dragon's Choice

By Wesley Allison

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?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wesley Allison
• Release date: Dec 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370319855

Wesley Allison

At the age of nine, Wesley Allison discovered a love of reading in an old box of Tom Swift Jr. books. He graduated to John Carter and Tarzan and retains a fondness the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs to this day. From there, it was Heinlein and Bradbury, C.S. Lewis and C.S. Forester, many, many others, and finally Richard Adam’s Shardik and Watership Down. He started writing his own stories as he worked his way through college. Today Wes is the author of more than thirty science-fiction and fantasy books, including the popular His Robot Girlfriend. He has taught English and American History for the past 29 years in Southern Nevada where he lives with his lovely wife Victoria, and his two grown children Rebecca and John.For more information about the author and upcoming books, visit http://wesleyallison.com.Books by Wesley Allison:Princess of AmatharHis Robot GirlfriendHis Robot WifeHis Robot Wife: Patience is a VirtueHis Robot Girlfriend: CharityHis Robot Wife: A Great Deal of PatienceHis Robot Wife: Patience Under FireEaglethorpe Buxton and the Elven PrincessEaglethorpe Buxton and the SorceressThe Many Adventures of Eaglethorpe BuxtonEaglethorpe Buxton and... Something about Frost GiantsThe Sorceress and the Dragon 0: BrechalonThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 1: The Voyage of the MinotaurThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 2: The Dark and Forbidding LandThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 3: The Drache GirlThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 4: The Young SorceressThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 5: The Two DragonsThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 6: The Sorceress and her LoversThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 7: The Price of MagicThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 8: A Plague of WizardsThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 9: The Dragon's ChoiceThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 10: For King and CountryKanana: The Jungle GirlTesla’s StepdaughtersWomen of PowerBlood TradeNova DancerThe Destroyer ReturnsAstrid Maxxim and her Amazing HoverbikeAstrid Maxxim and her Undersea DomeAstrid Maxxim and the Antarctic ExpeditionAstrid Maxxim and her Hypersonic Space PlaneAstrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar ChallengeAstrid Maxxim and the Mystery of Dolphin IslandAstrid Maxxim and her High-Rise Air Purifier

Book preview

THE DRAGON’S CHOICE

By Wesley Allison

Smashwords Edition

The Dragon’s Choice

Copyright © 2017 by Wesley Allison

Revision 4-17-18

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 © Terence Mendoza | Dreamstime.com

ISBN: 9781370319855

Dedication

For Vicki, Becky, and John

Patrons

Darryl Schnell Robbie Wolff

To find out about how to be a Patron and support this author’s writing, visit:

www.patreon.com/wesleyallison

Senta and the Steel Dragon

The Dragon’s Choice

By Wesley Allison

The Dragon’s Choice

By Wesley Allison

Chapter One: Zoey and Augie

It was a warm spring day in Birmisia Colony, and the people of Port Dechantagne were making the most of it. The parks were full of families, watching children play football or eating picnic lunches. Several practice cricket matches were being played, with more than a few spectators. Outdoor cafes were full and there was a concert scheduled in the downtown amphitheater for later that day. Many strolled along the sidewalk, rather than taking a car. However, one young couple was driving their steam-powered carriage northward into the warehouse district on the peninsula. Both looked to be about twenty years old. Both were dressed in expensive and fashionable clothing, his a sharp grey suit with a red waistcoat, and hers a creamy peach day dress trimmed in white lace.

I thought we were going to the concert, said the young woman. She ran her hand over the blond hair that spilled down to her shoulders from beneath the peach tri-corner hat perched atop her head.

We are, he replied, steering to the curb of Seventh and One Half Avenue. I just have to check something first.

Engaging the parking brake, he hopped out of the vehicle, running around back to open the relief cock. A loud whistle of steam escaped the pipe.

I’ll be right back, he said, peeling off his driving gloves and tossing them into his seat.

Then he stepped quickly down the street some twenty feet and disappeared into the narrow space between two warehouses. His destination was a locked door near the rear of the leftmost building, and he was busy fishing the key from his pocket so he didn’t notice the two men coming from the other direction.

One was a shorter man with a thick chest and muscular arms. He was bald and wore an eye patch. The other was a huge fellow, towering over the young man’s six-foot height; with a huge mop of blond hair that half obscured his face.

We’ll be takin’ your wallet, said the shorter of the two.

The well-dressed young man looked up, startled.

Now see here… his words were cut off when the giant slammed a fist into his stomach. He doubled over, looking up with wide eyes. His expression was not one of fear, but of shock, as if it was simply inconceivable that someone would lay hands on him. He was helpless as the one-eyed man reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his wallet.

We’ll take that watch too.

No… the young man tried to say.

The giant took him by the shoulders and slammed him against the building wall. The one-eyed man grabbed his watch by its chain and yanked it from his pocket. One brass button shot off his waistcoat and bounced off the neighboring building’s wall.

Don’t feel bad, boy, said the thief. It’s all a part of growing up.

The two stepped back behind the building and were gone. The young man struggled to take a couple of deep breaths. Then he slowly rose to his feet to find the young woman next to him.

Are you all right? she asked.

He shook his head. His eyes brimmed over with angry tears.

I’ll be right back, she said.

No, he said, but she was already gone. Kafira damn it all, he growled, punching the corrugated tin wall of the warehouse, leaving a fist-size indentation. Then he took several more deep breaths, carefully straightened his jacket, and bent down to brush the dirt off his trousers. His bowler hat fell off and rolled several feet away. He retrieved it and brushed it off too. When he stood up straight once again, she was back.

How are you? she asked.

How am I supposed to be? he said, wiping a stray tear from his face. I’ve been emasculated twice in one day.

Hardly emasculated. There were two of them and they were no doubt seasoned criminals.

Once by them and once by you, he accused.

Me? What did I do?

"You tell me. What did you do?"

I just taught them the error of their ways. She held out her hand, holding his wallet and watch. Here. Don’t be upset, Augie. You are a very powerful man.

Not the right kind of powerful, in this case. I shouldn’t need my woman to fight my battles for me.

I’m not your woman.

You’re supposed to be.

"What I mean to say is, I’m not a woman. I am what I am, and when somebody harms someone I love… well, they must die. It’s as simple as that."

This is my father’s watch, he said, placing it back in his pocket. I dare say no one ever took it from him.

You shouldn’t let this bother you.

I’m going to hire a boxing coach.

You don’t need a boxing coach, she said. I doubt your father had one. He just acted instead of thinking about it. You’re not a fighter. You’re a thinker. Now don’t look at me that way. I didn’t mean it as a rebuke. Thinking is your strength. Use it to your advantage.

How? Hiring a bodyguard?

You don’t need a bodyguard. She gave him a toothy grin. You have me.

They’re dead then?

By now. Eaten by marine reptiles or drowned. I dropped them out in the bay.

Hmm, he said. Did I hear you say you loved me?

You might have.

I thought you just loved my money.

Make no mistake. I love your money too. She placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him deeply.

I love you too, Zoey. Let’s go on to the concert.

Don’t you want to check whatever you were going to check?

No. I don’t really need to.

Come on.

Oh, all right. He found the key and unlocked the warehouse door, opening it for her. I was going to surprise you with this next week.

What is it? She stepped inside.

It’s a new car—a cherry red Bromsfeld X.

Ooh, it looks expensive.

It was. Very.

I love it.

* * * * *

Augie leaned over and kissed Zoey on the corner of the mouth. Then he hopped out of the car and hurried over to help her out. She put one hand on his shoulder and cupped his face in the other.

Are you feeling better now?

Concerts always make me feel better.

You know what I mean.

I’ll survive, he said. That is, I’ll survive if you agree to have dinner with me tomorrow.

You’ll manage to go more than twenty-four hours without me? She stuck out her lower lip. I guess I’m not all that desirable, after all.

I won’t be without you, he said. You’ll be right here the whole time. He pointed at his head, and then put his hand over his heart. And right here.

She kissed him on the cheek and then leaned in and bit his ear. You make me feel all squishy inside, she whispered.

She giggled as his face turned bright red, and then skipped away to the front door. She watched him climb back into his car, and then went inside. Passing through the foyer into the parlor, she twirled around on a toe and laughed aloud. Her spin took her a little more than 360 degrees and her laugh stopped abruptly when she found herself facing Senta, who had been, up until now, unobserved in the corner chair.

Zoantheria.

Senta Bly, in addition to being the world’s most powerful sorceress, was Zoey’s mistress, almost like a mother, having looked after her since her hatching. She stood up and stepped forward. The two looked enough alike to be sisters, though Zoantheria’s appearance was the result of magic.

What have you been doing, Pet?

Um, I was at the, um concert, replied Zoey.

You were with that boy again.

He was at the concert too. With me. And Augie’s not a boy. He’s a man. She smiled. He’s a very, very handsome man. And he’s wonderful. He’s so nice and so nice to me.

And he’s rich, said Senta.

And he’s very, very rich, purred Zoey.

He’s a handsome, rich man and you are a dragon.

What does that have to do with anything? Does being a dragon mean that I can’t be happy?

It means that someday, young Lord Augustus Marek Virgil Dechantagne will find a nice girl and marry her and it won’t be you, because you are a dragon!

I know I’m a dragon. Quit throwing that in my face. I act like a dragon all the time. Why, just a few hours ago, I killed two people.

Taking care of criminals is a job for the police, said Senta with a dismissive wave. It is not befitting of a goddess.

You were spying on me?

Don’t flatter yourself. I had to do some divination magic. I was getting a pimple. The sorceress stepped close and draped her arm around the dragon in human form. You’ve been trying so hard to live like a human. You’re not eating right. You’ve only slept here and there for the last two weeks. You can’t keep that up.

I’ll sleep for a week or two, said Zoey. After tomorrow evening. I have a dinner date with Augie.

At least go get a proper meal. I don’t want you to accidentally eat your young man.

Yes, you’re right, of course.

The two walked through the dining room and out the door into the garden. Senta stood watching, with arms crossed, as Zoey released the magic that held her in human form. Suddenly she filled the garden. The size of a locomotive engine even with her wings held in, the dragon was covered in metallic scales that reflected a pinkish coral color in the sunlight. Her head, alone larger than she had been as a woman, was covered with spiky horns, and long whiskers hung down around her mouth.

You’re much more beautiful this way, said Senta.

Zoey blew a smoke ring out of her right nostril. Then suddenly she was gone—shot into the sky, seemingly with no effort. For a second, she made a streak across the sky, like lightning, and then she was gone.

Senta sighed, and then turned and went back inside.

* * * * *

The seas around the continent of Mallon were extremely dangerous, filled with a whole encyclopedia of deadly creatures from small poisonous invertebrates to large carnivorous fish, salt-water crocodiles, and dozens of types of sharks. The dominant species of the entire underwater world here though, were the kronosaurs. Typically thirty to thirty-five feet long and weighing in at around eleven tons, they were built like a crocodile with an especially large mouth and flippers instead of legs. They feasted on giant fish, sharks, and other marine reptiles and they did so with alacrity.

On this particular day, in the waters some four miles northeast of the city of Port Dechantagne, one kronosaur had just finished feasting on a twenty-foot long cretoxyrhina shark, and now floated near the surface to take in the warmth of the sun. The cretoxyrhina shark was no small prey, especially a fully-grown one, but this particular kronosaur was the king of its undersea world. Forty-three feet long and half again as heavy as the others of its kind that hid when it slid through the water, it had fed on creatures far scarier than any shark. Now it rolled onto its back and lifted his flippers up into sunshine.

It was at that moment that it was hit by an object shooting down from the sky like a meteor. The force pushed the great beast down into the depths. It didn’t feel the claws grabbing hold of it and pulling it back to the surface. The kinetic energy of the collision had killed it. The coral dragon lifted the kronosaur to the surface. It was too heavy to carry up into the air, so she flew toward land, dragging it through the water. Reaching the water’s edge, she heaved it up onto the rocky shore, and began to feast. She tore off huge hunks of the carcass, chewing through meat, fat, skin, and bones without regard to the blood coating her face and neck. Seemingly of its own accord, her long barbed tail wove a complex pattern through the air, warning away any potential scavengers.

Thus, as the bass takes the minnow, so does the pike take the bass.

Zoantheria looked around for the source of the deep voice. There seemed to be no one there. Then she noticed the bright crimson cardinal perched on the branch of a dead pine tree.

Am I supposed to be the pike in this little allegory? she asked.

Maybe I’m the pike and you’re the bass. Watch your tone with me, child.

Yes, My Lord.

You stink like a human.

She shrugged.

Why are you here, My Lord, and in that disguise?

I woke up and my slaves told me you hadn’t been to see me the entire year I had been asleep. That will not do. You can’t spend all your time cavorting with humans. It’s unbecoming of a goddess.

Funny. You know, she said the exact same thing to me earlier today. The coral dragon paused, took another bite of her kill, and then continued. Ah, that’s why you’re not here as yourself. She might see you.

Foolish female, human spell-casters cannot scry a dragon.

She can. She did it to me earlier.

What do I care? asked the bird, but he tilted his head to look around. I’ve eaten her like for breakfast—literally.

You know, she knows that spell. She could be any random sparrow.

I’ll deal with her, but on my own timetable. Of course I might not even have to. Perhaps she’ll do it for me. She has no idea what to do with her own power. She throws it around with wild abandon. It’s like watching a monkey with a gun.

So I didn’t visit you, said Zoey. What exactly do you want from me?

I want you.

You what now?

You shall be my mate, Zoantheria, the first that I have taken in a dozen centuries. That whelp shall not have you.

Wha… what whelp?

The God of the Sky.

Bessemer? He doesn’t want me, I can assure you of that. He has absolutely no interest in me, certainly not a romantic interest.

Romance, he spat. It’s going to take a century just to wring out the human ideas contaminating you. Of course he wants you. Who wouldn’t want the Goddess of the Sea?

I’m not a goddess, said Zoey. I’m just a dragon.

They are one and the same, said the red bird. I shall expect a visit from you within the fortnight, Zoantheria. You must pay your respects to your future lord and master.

The cardinal flitted up and away to the southeast.

Yes, My Lord Voindrazius, said Zoey.

She turned back to the kronosaur and sliced down its belly with her razor sharp claws. The top half of a massive shark slid from its opened stomach, out onto the rocky ground.

Yum, shark.

* * * * *

Zoey skipped down the steps from the front door and into Augie Dechantagne’s arms. Her brand new purple and pink day dress was trimmed with black fur cuffs and collar. The black top hat didn’t hide her new hairstyle of cascading golden ringlets.

Shall we go? she asked, after giving him a kiss and a squeeze.

Wait. Let me look at you. There’s something different about you.

Her smile slipped a bit.

I know what it is. You’re even more beautiful than you were yesterday. Are you hungry?

Famished, she said, grinning.

He helped her into the car and then hurried around to the driver’s side. A moment later, they were shooting down the red brick street. Though already past seven, the sun was only just setting and it was still quite warm. Sliding over to the center of the seat, she took Augie’s arm and leaned her head onto his shoulder.

They stopped across the street from Café Etta. After stepping down, Zoey took her companion’s arm once again, and together, they hurried across the busy thoroughfare.

Café Etta was busy and there was a line of waiting diners, but Augie led her to the front, expecting to be seated immediately, which they were. The Mirsannan host led them to a table just left of the center of the dining area. Café Etta featured open-air dining, though it had hardwood flooring. It was surrounded by a waist-high banister, above which were strung colorful lights. A member of the restaurant staff was even now lighting them with a match at the end of a long pole. The host first pulled out Zoey’s chair for her and then Augie’s.

Are we celebrating tonight, Your Lordship?

Of course, replied Augie. I’m celebrating being out with this lovely creature. Bring us a bottle of your second most expensive sparkling wine.

Odd phrase that, said Zoey, once the host had left. Lovely creature.

Well, you objected yesterday, when I called you a woman.

True. Call me but Love, and I shall be transformed into whatever you wish.

You’re perfect already. What would you like to eat?

Lobster?

A waiter arrived with the sparkling wine and two flutes. After popping the cork, he poured the two glasses.

Would you care to hear the specials?

No need, said Augie. Two lobsters with all the accompaniments.

Very good, sir. The waiter hurried off.

You really are a lovely creature.

Thank you, kind sir.

A lot of people are out for dinner, he said, glancing past her. I see the Croffuts and your cousin and his wife over there—Geert and Honor, I mean, not the annoying ones.

You mean Senta’s cousins. They’re not really mine.

Of course. I forgot. But still, Senta’s like your mother.

Speaking of mothers, yours is sitting near the railing, behind you.

Really?

Yes. Your grandfather and grandmother too.

The whole family then. I suppose I’ll have to go and talk to them, but for now, I’ll just pretend like I don’t know they’re there.

Your mother is looking right at me. She knows we’re talking about her. I don’t think she likes me.

Of course she doesn’t. She’s my mother. She thinks you’re not good enough for her little boy.

How can she think that? I’m a dragon. You couldn’t do any better as…

What?

Nothing, she said. I’m being silly. Go say hello.

Augie got up, turned around, and strolled across the room to the table where Mrs. Dechantagne was seated, along with Mr. and Mrs. Korlann. He was only there for a moment before his mother stood up and guided him into her chair. Then she walked over and sat down across from Zoey.

Mrs. Dechantagne was still a strikingly beautiful woman at forty-seven, with full lips, chocolate colored eyes, and dark brown hair, lightly streaked with grey, piled high on her head.

What are you playing at, monster, she hissed.

Hey, replied Zoey, with a frown. Hurtful words.

What are you doing with my boy?

Lord Dechantagne is a man. And I’m…

An inhuman monster.

Wow. Creature, monster, goddess: everyone certainly seems to have me pegged.

I’m less interested in what you are than what you want, said Mrs. Dechantagne, like my son’s money.

Augie is so very much more to me than money, said Zoey, but she couldn’t help smiling as the word money passed her lips.

Good evening, Yuah, Zoey, said a figure suddenly beside the table. Honor McCoort leaned down and kissed first Mrs. Dechantagne on the cheek and then Zoey.

Mrs. McCoort was a few years younger than Augie’s mother, without the bit of grey in her dark brown hair. She was pretty, but had a scar running from her cheekbone to her chin. Her white blouse and black skirt looked very plain next to Mrs. Dechantagne’s fuchsia evening gown.

We already said good evening not twenty minutes ago, Mrs. Dechantagne told her. What is it that you want now?

Well, my intentions are two-fold, said Mrs. McCoort, looking up at the colorful canvas that acted as a ceiling. First of all, as you are both my good friends, I’m here to try to limit any animosity. Secondly, if Zoantheria were to transform into her dragon self in order to eat you, my dear husband would be right where her tail would fall.

I’ve never eaten a person, said Zoey, as far as either of you know.

This isn’t over, monster, said Mrs. Dechantagne, getting up.

Of that I am certain, said Zoey.

You really are a kibitzer, Mrs. Dechantagne said to Mrs. McCoort, though it was said without real venom. She turned and walked back to her table.

Good evening, Zoey, said Mrs. McCoort, turning to leave.

Good evening. My best to your husband.

So, what did my mother want? asked Augie, returning to his seat, just as two waiters arrived with trays filled with two bright red lobsters, roasted vegetables, cheeses, and breads.

Oh, nothing really. A bit of local gossip.

Oh. He cut a piece of lobster tail and dipped it in drawn butter, before bringing it to his mouth. Mmm.

I’m afraid I won’t see you for a while, said Zoey.

He stopped, his second forkful of seafood in midair. Why?

First, I have to sleep. But then I shall be away.

For how long?

A few weeks. Perhaps a month at the most.

A month? What ever will I do without you? he asked. Is this because of something my mother said? If she’s bothering you, I can do something. I’ll send her away on holiday. I’ll send her to visit my sister in Brech City.

No, no. It’s nothing to do with your mother, said Zoey. It’s um… dragon business. You know…

Something you have to do for Senta?

One might suppose, yes.

I shall miss you terribly.

Good. See that you do. And see that you don’t take up with any other young females.

As long as you’re not gone longer than a month, he said. After all, you know, I am a very sought-after young bachelor. There are plenty of fetching young women who would like to be showered with expensive gifts.

As long as you make them aware of the potential risks for those rewards. She picked up her lobster, twisting it into two pieces, and then brought the top half to her lips, sucking out the green fatty paste from inside.

I like a woman with a good appetite, said her dinner companion.

Then you are in luck, Lord Dechantagne, she said. You have no idea.

Chapter Two: Yuah’s Morning

Yuah Dechantagne slowly opened her eyes, wondering how she got sandpaper on the inside of her eyelids. She stared up at the unfamiliar blue ceiling for several minutes before realizing she should look around to see where she was. As soon as her head moved, she was sorry. Somebody had hammered a big spike into her head, she decided, as she rubbed her temples. Climbing out of bed, she staggered over to the washstand and poured the pitcher of cool water into the basin. Setting the pitcher on the floor, she reached into the water with both hands and lifted it to her face. She did this several more times, the last time with her eyes open, trying for some relief of their itching. They hadn’t felt this bad since… well, since she had abused them. After drying her face, she looked down at her body. She wasn’t wearing nightclothes. She had on her foundations from the day before.

Looking around, Yuah saw a big, fluffy robe hanging from a hook on the inside of the door. Staggering across the room, she pulled it off the hanger and slipped it on. Then she opened the door and stepped out. Immediately, she was blinded by shaft of light beaming in through a window at the end of the hallway—her stepmother’s hallway, she realized. Her father had been married to Egeria Korlann née Lusk for some fifteen years now, but she still thought of it as Egeria’s house.

Good morning, sister, said a sweet voice from behind her.

She turned to see a thin girl, with alabaster skin and vibrant red hair, standing at the top of the staircase. She had on a pretty white play dress and carried a large emerald egg in the crook of her arm.

Good morning, Olivia. What time is it?

It’s quarter to the hour. Mother said that I was to come bring you to breakfast.

A quarter to what hour?

A quarter to nine. I’ve been up for hours.

And what is it you have there? wondered Yuah.

It’s my troodon egg, replied the girl.

Is that what’s for breakfast then?

No, silly. I’m hatching it. Mother said I could only have a troodon if I hatched it myself. That way it would know I’m it’s mum.

All right. Breakfast then. Lead the way.

The girl hopped down the stairs in a way that Yuah thought would ensure that the egg didn’t make it, but it did. She followed her half-sister down to the dining room.

Olivia had been born to Yuah’s father and his second wife almost seven years into their marriage. She had been a surprise to everyone, especially her mother who had been told by doctors and priests that she would never be able to conceive. It had bothered Yuah that her father had married a woman only two years her elder, but she found it surprisingly pleasant to have a sister who was only seven. It made her feel younger. She felt for Egeria. She wouldn’t have wanted to raise a child at forty-nine. It was hard enough being forty-seven, and her children were essentially grown. Terra would turn nineteen soon, and Augie twenty just a few days later.

Good morning, Yuah, said Egeria, as her stepdaughter plopped into a chair at the table. Would you care for a scone?

Oh, just tea please. What happened to me anyway?

You had quite a bit of wine last night, so I thought it better that you stay the night with us.

Yuah looked around, noticing that it was only Egeria, Olivia, and she in the room.

Where’s Papa?

He’s already gone into work. Egeria poured the tea and then stirred in several ingredients before handing it over. Here you go, dear. It has honey, lemon, and ginger. It will make you feel better.

Thank you, said Yuah. What do you mean, he’s gone in to work. He’s retired.

He has an office at Uni. He likes to go in and keep an eye on things.

Mm-hm. Did I hear Olivia say that you were going to allow her to have a troodon?

Yes, but she has to take care of it herself and keep up her studies.

You could have just had one of ours. Augie has at least a dozen of them. I can’t go in or out of the house without feeling like they’re going to leap on me and attack.

They aren’t aggressive, are they? asked Egeria. If one is aggressive towards a human, it should be put down.

Well, they don’t actually do anything, but I can see in their eyes that they want to. Yuah sipped her tea. I will have that scone now, thank you.

* * * * *

Still feeling out of sorts, not the least of reasons because she was wearing her gown from the evening before when all around her were women in day dresses and walking dresses, Yuah stood waiting at the trolley stop. Home was close enough that she could have walked. In fact she had walked the distance many times, back in the early days of the colony, before there were any steam carriages and when there was no trolley. She had been there only a minute when the trolley approached, pulled by a triceratops that was almost twice as big as the car. It came to a stop at the mark and the driver hurried around to feed the beast some leafy branches. Yuah was about to step aboard when a loud squelch heralded the arrival of a hundred pounds or more of dung dropping from the triceratops’s bottom.

Oh, bloody hell, she said, waving her hand in front of her face.

Sorry, ma’am, called the driver.

Standing next to the driver’s seat, she suddenly realized she had no money with her. For a moment, she wondered if she should get back off.

Allow me, said a thin, grey-haired man, stepping forward to drop a pfennig in the glass box.

Why thank you, Mr. Wissinger, she said.

Isaak Wissinger was a