Spark the Fire

by Melissa McShane

  The four males in front bore enormous swords sheathed at their hips, curved and wide at the tips, and they wore no clothing on their torsos, which shone as if oiled. Lamprophyre examined them in fascination. Their muscles were more defined than a dragon’s, giving them a bumpy look Lamprophyre secretly found amusing. There was nothing else amusing about them, though; they didn’t smile, and their gazes flicked in all directions, not just at Lamprophyre. She guessed they were the king’s personal guard and therefore concerned about all threats, not just the most obvious one.

  Her attention was drawn to the male who, unlike those grouped fore and behind, walked beside the wooden cage. Brown hair cropped close to his ears didn’t move at all in the light breeze that had come up, and he lurched with every step, swinging his left leg stiffly wide and setting his foot down heavily. He wore a brightly colored robe over white clothing, and his footwear exposed his toes, which were blunt with flat, close-trimmed claws. “Who’s that?” Lamprophyre whispered to Rokshan.

  “Who?”

  “The lurching one.”

  “Oh. My sister Tekentriya, my father’s heir. Don’t stare. She hates that.”

  “Was she born like that?”

  “No. There was an accident five years ago. We don’t discuss it.”

  “You said only males have short hair.”

  Rokshan shook his head. “I know, but Tekentriya is different in a lot of ways. Just—don’t stare.”

  Lamprophyre turned her attention to the male in the cage. He had to be the king, Ekanath, but why a king would be in a cage, she had no idea. Unless there was something wrong with his legs, too, and he needed to be carried by the four males, also unclad from the waist up, also with muscles bulging.

  She glanced down at Rokshan. His clothing obscured his body, so she couldn’t tell if his muscles were large and bulging, too. He’d probably be embarrassed if she asked to see. Humans were so odd.

  She couldn’t see the king clearly because the cage’s roof obscured her view, but he wore the same white clothing and colorful robe Tekentriya did and sat in the complicated legs-folded position Rokshan had used earlier. It made Lamprophyre’s hips ache just looking at it. Most of the king’s face was hidden by his facial hair, but he didn’t look like he was smiling. Lamprophyre’s discomfort grew. Another thing she hadn’t considered was that the humans might not want an ambassador from the dragons. If they rejected her embassy, she didn’t know what she’d do. Hyaloclast was unlikely to accept a human refusal as grounds for Lamprophyre failing to discover the egg thieves.

  The king’s guards came to within half a dragonlength of Lamprophyre and Rokshan, then with a couple of long strides they took up wary positions to either side of the cage. The males carrying the cage lowered their burden to rest on four tall wooden legs protruding from its base, but didn’t step away from it. Lamprophyre wondered if they, too, were part of the king’s guard. They were certainly muscled heavily enough that they could give another human a good fight.

  Lamprophyre cast her gaze over the humans bringing up the rear, all of whom wore robes the same style as Tekentriya and the king’s, but less colorful. A few of them had long hair hanging loose around their faces and down their backs, and Lamprophyre took a closer look at them, but couldn’t immediately see any other characteristics that distinguished them from their male companions. It was all she had time for before Rokshan took three long steps forward and dropped to one knee before the cage, bowing his head.

  “Your majesty,” he said, “may I present the Princess Lamprophyre, dragon ambassador to Gonjiri.”

  The king leaned forward to look past the roof of the cage. “Approach,” he said. His voice sounded so much like Rokshan’s it was eerie. Lamprophyre walked forward until she was even with Rokshan. Carefully, she bowed at her midsection, hoping she wouldn’t overbalance and fall on the king.

  When she rose, the king was still staring at her, his face unreadable. “Your mother is the dragon queen?” he asked.

  Lamprophyre resisted the urge to set him straight about dragon customs. She could pretend to be a princess if that would make humans more comfortable. “She is, your majesty,” she said. “She said, if you were willing to send Rok—someone of your own blood to approach the dragons, she could return the courtesy.”

  “Generous indeed,” the king said. “We were not expecting you.”

  Lamprophyre really wished she could read human facial expressions better. His tone of voice had been neutral, but his thoughts were angry in a complex tangle she had trouble deciphering: angry that dragons existed, angry at Rokshan for bringing Lamprophyre here with no warning, angry that she was here at all. One flash of coherent thought surfaced: need that weapon, Jiwanyil knows what the creature could do to me. She felt confused, and uncertain, and completely unprepared for this confrontation.

  She bowed again. “I apologize for coming on you unawares,” she said, filling her thoughts with polite emotions even though she knew the king could not hear them. The practice gave her balance and calmed her. “I’m afraid I was eager to meet you, and let that influence my approach.”

  The angry thoughts turned confused briefly, and she heard him think eager to meet me, why? “Dragons and humans have not interacted well to date,” he said. “I assume your arrival is intended to change that.”

  “We want to live in harmony with humans,” Lamprophyre said, hoping Rokshan wouldn’t do anything to indicate he knew she was exaggerating. Well, she wanted dragons to live in harmony with humans, and as far as the king was concerned, what Lamprophyre wanted matched the intent of all dragons, starting with their queen. “But we can’t allow humans to encroach on our territory unchecked any more than you would want dragons settling in your cities. Hyaloclast—the dragon queen—has sent me with her response to your request.”

  Once more, the king’s mind seethed with anger, and this time Lamprophyre had no trouble hearing his thoughts: letting animals dictate our movement, what are we, weak infants? and creature could crush me without a thought, must be polite. “And that response is?”

  Lamprophyre shifted her weight, and the guards flanking the cage came immediately more alert, setting their hands on the hilts of their swords. She chose not to take offense. “You will be allowed to settle in dragon lands according to the limits we will give you,” she said, trying to sound formal and official on Hyaloclast’s behalf. “But the territory will remain under dragon rule. It will not be part of the kingdom of Gonjiri.”

  The king recoiled. “Impossible,” he said, his voice sharp to match his tumultuous thoughts. “Dragons cannot rule humans anymore than humans would know how to govern dragons. What you demand is unthinkable.”

  “Your majesty,” said Rokshan, “I’m sure that’s not what the dragon queen intended. Right, Lamprophyre?”

  “This is none of your concern, Rokshan,” the king said, gesturing at him sharply.

  Lamprophyre heard Rokshan’s unspoken just as I thought, never good enough for him, doesn’t matter that I made this happen, and the humiliation touching that thought made her angry on his behalf. “I said the land would be under dragon rule, not the people,” she snapped, not pausing to think about her words, following her instincts. “I believe Hyaloclast’s intent was that humans do not have full rights over the land. You wouldn’t be able to send your army there, for example. And if humans behave badly, we will expel them.”

  “What about agriculture?” Tekentriya asked. Her voice was quieter than the king’s, but perfectly audible. “They’ll have to feed themselves.”

  “Agriculture—does that mean growing things?”

  Tekentriya nodded once. Her thoughts were almost as angry as the king’s, but her anger was all for Rokshan: stupid boy bringing a damn dragon into the city, how much damage did it do, rioting still not under control. Lamprophyre decided she disliked the strange female.

  “As long as the agriculture is kept within the bounds of the human territory within dragon lands, that will be acceptable,
” she said. “You should arrange for another embassy to speak to Hyaloclast so she can show you where you’ll be allowed to settle.” There. Put it back on Hyaloclast to handle the details.

  The king nodded. “That is acceptable,” he said, as if Lamprophyre had been the one to acquiesce. “But none of that requires a permanent ambassador. Did the queen have something else in mind?”

  Lamprophyre found herself hoping the king had had something to do with stealing Opal’s egg, so she could be justified in making him flee in terror. She’d been nothing but polite, and he treated her like a poor supplicant! “Now that humans know dragons exist, we can’t live completely separate anymore,” she said, once more drawing on formality to keep herself from spitting fire at the cage. It was soft wood and would likely burn easily. “Hyaloclast wants humans to understand dragons better, and for dragons to learn more about human culture. All we have are very old stories of humans and dragons, and old stories can be wrong. She asks that you accept me as ambassador with that end in mind.”

  The king said nothing, but the anger filling his thoughts ebbed slightly. Lamprophyre waited. Finally, the king said, “You honor us with your presence, ambassador. We look forward to learning more about our neighbors to the north.” Can’t get rid of it, might as well keep it where I can watch it.

  Lamprophyre opened her mouth to protest being thought of as “it” and remembered in time she meant to keep her ability secret. “Thank you, your majesty, I feel the same,” she said, bowing again.

  “The ambassador will need a place to stay,” Rokshan said. “She can use the coliseum for now, but that’s a very temporary solution.”

  The king barely nodded in Rokshan’s direction. “Mekel, see to it,” he said, raising his voice. One of the men in the group behind the cage came forward and bowed, first to the king, then to Lamprophyre. “Did you bring a retinue?” the king asked Lamprophyre.

  Lamprophyre had no idea what that was, and by the sound of the king’s thoughts, nasty and amused, he knew he’d confused her. “I—”

  “Your majesty,” Rokshan said, “if I may, I request to be assigned as diplomatic liaison to the ambassador. She will need humans to assist her, since she is built to a much larger scale than we are.”

  The king’s amused, mocking thoughts expanded to include Rokshan: let him have the thankless task. “An excellent notion,” he said. “A royal prince to attend a royal princess, yes?”

  He meant it as sarcasm, but Lamprophyre was too relieved at having a friend stay with her to care. “Thank you, Rokshan and I will suit very well,” she said. Maybe that’s what a retinue was.

  “I will arrange for hiring the ambassador’s household help once she has a permanent home,” Rokshan said, and now his thoughts were filled with cheerful satisfaction Lamprophyre thought might be unjustified, given that his father had assigned him to her out of spite. Rokshan might not be able to hear the king’s thoughts, but Lamprophyre had no doubt he knew his father well enough to know what the king intended.

  “Very well. I’m sure the ambassador’s household will be well provided for, dragons traditionally being very wealthy,” the king said.

  That struck Lamprophyre to the heart. She knew humans exchanged coin for goods, but it hadn’t occurred to her that they would expect a dragon to enter into similar transactions. “Um, I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” she stammered. She certainly had no coin and no idea what dragons did have that humans would find interesting. She needed to get Rokshan alone, and quickly.

  “And you will want to host a reception once you’re settled, to meet our city’s nobles and foreign dignitaries,” the king continued.

  How, how could he possibly know just what would discomfit her the most? She almost would have thought him capable of hearing her think. If not for the sound of his thoughts, she might have imagined the king was simply being friendly and helpful. Instead, she could hear his satisfaction at throwing her off-balance. Her dislike of him on Rokshan’s behalf hardened into a personal antipathy. What was a reception?

  “I look forward to it,” she said politely.

  The king snapped his fingers twice, and the muscular males at the corners of the cage picked up their poles and hoisted the king into the air. The humans surrounding the cage moved in a complicated pattern that ended with them all pointed in the direction they’d come from, which meant the males and females at the rear were suddenly much closer to Lamprophyre. All of them were unsettled by her proximity, though she didn’t hear any overly fearful thoughts, and one of them, a male with the top of his head showing through thinning brown hair, was more curious than afraid. Lamprophyre realized he was the one who’d bowed. He stayed behind as the king and his companions strode away toward the front of the palace.

  The male bowed to Lamprophyre again. “Your highness, I am Mekel, the king’s chamberlain. Allow me to serve you.”

  “Um, yes, thank you?” She hadn’t meant that to sound like a question, and cleared her throat. “Thank you. You will find me a better place to stay? That is, I’m sure the coliseum is very nice, but I like a roof over my head.”

  “Of course,” Mekel said, bowing again. “I’m afraid I must ask you to remain in the coliseum until I do, though. We will need time to spread word of your arrival, so you don’t…that is, the people of Tanajital are unfamiliar with dragons…”

  “We know, Mekel,” Rokshan said. “Are you hungry, Lamprophyre? What do you eat?”

  She’d been feeling moderately hungry ever since smelling the gold of the palace roofs, and realized in the tension surrounding Opal’s hatching, she’d forgotten to eat her morning meal. “I normally eat twice a day, morning and night,” she said, “but I feel hungry now. And I usually eat deer or wild boar. Elk, sometimes. Wild horse if there’s nothing else, but horse meat is so unsatisfying.”

  Mekel glanced at Rokshan. “I think a cow, perhaps?”

  She’d heard of cows. “That would be fine.” Hopefully they were less stringy than horses. “But I’ll cook it myself.”

  “Have the kitchens send a butchered cow to the coliseum, Mekel,” Rokshan said, “and something for me as well.” He climbed easily onto Lamprophyre’s shoulders and settled himself into the notch. “And keep me informed on your progress in finding an embassy for the ambassador.”

  “Of course, your highness.” Mekel bowed again, apparently respectful, but his thoughts were full of awe and dread: he just climbed right up, no fear, never thought I’d see a dragon in the flesh.

  Lamprophyre waited only briefly for Rokshan to feel secure, then leaped into the sky, beating the air for a rapid ascent. She couldn’t help remembering the terrified scattering of humans the last time she’d taken to the skies above Tanajital. She could conceal herself; that didn’t last long, but it would be long enough to reach the coliseum. But with Rokshan on her shoulders, that concealment wouldn’t be very convincing. Maybe rising high above them and making a quick, nearly vertical descent would minimize her exposure to the humans.

  Tanajital from the air was beautiful, she decided, primarily because it was so alien. And yet it made sense to her in a way humans themselves didn’t: it was obviously not transitory and would outlast the humans with their brief lives, which made it almost dragon-like in its permanence. She examined the palace’s golden roofs once more before diving for the coliseum and making Rokshan cry out with mingled excitement and pleased terror, an emotion she understood from flying blind through storms. Hyaloclast forbade it, which made it even more exciting.

  The coliseum, alone among all the buildings of Tanajital, had no roof, just that circular wall topped with red arches, like a tiny city within a city. She alit within the wall and sniffed the ground. It was packed earth like the plain behind the palace, stale and dead and almost rock-hard. She dug her small sixth claw into it and sniffed again. It didn’t smell like anything fertile.

  “Why earth, and not stone?” she asked Rokshan.

  Rokshan stood with his hands on his hips, surveying t
heir surroundings. “It would be expensive and difficult to bring stone all the way from the mountains. And I think the earth is easier on the runners’ feet.”

  “Oh.” She patted the dirt back into the groove she’d made. The walls of the coliseum rose taller than she, then ascended in a series of steep stairs to a second, even taller wall that was the one she’d seen upon descending. “Why are there two walls?”

  Rokshan pointed. “The space between the walls is the stands, where people come to watch the races. Over there is the royal box, where my family sits so we aren’t pressed by others.”

  With the sloping sides between the two walls, the coliseum felt like a bowl, though human-made instead of natural. Lamprophyre pushed off and flapped slowly to get just enough height to examine the space. The deep tiers had shallower stairs dividing them into neat sections. She flew around the coliseum, pausing at one end to look at the royal box. It didn’t look much different from anywhere else in the building, except for having wooden seats. It was open on three sides and fully illuminated by the sun, though its flat roof sheltered it from the worst of the rays. Lamprophyre was starting to feel over-warm herself.

  She settled into the narrow strip of shadow on the western side of the coliseum—very narrow, at just after midday, but it was better than nothing—and rested her chin on her folded arms. “I didn’t know I would need coin,” she said. “There are so many things I didn’t anticipate.”

  “Neither did I. I was so excited—damn him anyway for being a blind fool,” Rokshan said. “Dragons in our midst, and all he can think about is his pride.”

  “He was angry about my arrival.”

  Rokshan sat beside her head and folded his legs beneath him. “He doesn’t like being out of control, and he hates having to be a supplicant. So yes, he was angry. Were you reading his thoughts?”

  “I don’t know what you mean by reading. Dragons hear thoughts and sometimes emotions, if they’re strong. Only it’s not like hearing with your ears. I’ve never had to explain it before and I’m probably doing a poor job of it.”