“I wish I knew what Manishi could do with it.”
“You mean, what if she does something terrible? Manishi is off-putting, abrasive, and rude, but she’s not evil.” Rokshan set the emerald down and picked up a piece of turquoise, roughly pyramidal in shape. “What’s this?”
“It’s turquoise. Haven’t you seen it before?”
“No. Manishi might have. I mentioned she buys stones from all over the world.” He rubbed rock dust off its rough surface. “I bet this would look amazing if it were polished.”
“All I know from the stories is that humans cut stones into shapes they find pleasing. I’d never seen a polished stone until I met Manishi and saw the citrine ring she wears.” Lamprophyre ran a claw along the kyanite crystal and licked the scrapings gingerly, careful not to cut herself on the sharp edge and tip of the claw. “And the sapphire attached to that wand was rough-cut, so at least some magic doesn’t require shaped stone.”
“I asked Manishi to join us this afternoon.” Rokshan tossed the turquoise in the air and caught it. “This morning we’re going to see about a permanent home for you.”
“Mekel found something?” Lamprophyre felt a twinge of embarrassment at having thought poorly of Mekel, even in such a sideways manner. “That was fast.”
“I know.” Rokshan tossed the turquoise again. “I hope it’s not a warehouse. You deserve better than that.”
“What’s a warehouse?”
“A big building for storing things. Food, or lumber, or fabric, anything humans need only part of the time, or intend to sell. They’re usually rough and in less savory neighborhoods.”
Rokshan’s explanation made less sense the longer he talked. She didn’t know half the words he’d just used. “I don’t need a fancy place,” she said. “I’m used to my cave, and that’s not decorated with colors and metals the way the palace is.”
“Yes, but you’ll meet with other ambassadors and nobles in your home, and they will judge you based on what it looks like.”
“They will? That’s ridiculous!”
“It’s the way humans are. Don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure wherever you end up is suited to your dignity.”
Lamprophyre snorted laughter. “You make me sound as old as Scoria, sleeping in the sun all day and being brought food instead of hunting. I’m not sure how much dignity a dragon my age has.”
“Ambassadors always have dignity no matter their age.” Rokshan tossed the turquoise chunk to lie in a pile with the others. “How old is Scoria?”
“Three hundred and seventy-three.”
Rokshan’s mouth fell open. “God’s breath,” he said. “I didn’t realize dragons lived as long as that.”
“She’ll probably live to be more than four hundred. The oldest dragon I ever knew was Pyrite, and he rejoined Mother Stone when he was four hundred and forty-seven.” Pyrite’s stubbornness in refusing to make that final journey until his last tooth fell out was as legendary as his age. Lamprophyre had been afraid of him when she was a dragonet, his milky eyes and his tendency to drool acid if he wasn’t careful making him seem not quite a true dragon.
“That’s almost older than Tanajital,” Rokshan said. “It’s hard to imagine.”
Lamprophyre remembered Rokshan was only twenty-five and felt a pang at thinking he would be old in only a handful of years while she would still be young. “Does it bother you?” she said. “That you don’t live very long?”
Rokshan’s shoulders moved up and down in that peculiar gesture Manishi had used. “My dog Surana only lived twelve years,” he said. “I know people who don’t want a pet because of that. Because of seeing them grow old and die. But I think being with them even for that short time is joyful enough to make it worth the eventual pain. We don’t know how long our lives will be, so we make the most of what God gives us.”
“That’s very wise.” Lamprophyre thought of Aegirine, her father, who had rejoined Mother Stone before the age of two hundred. “Are you sure you’re only twenty-five?” she teased, feeling a need to lighten the conversation.
“My mother says I’m wise beyond my years. I’m not sure how true that is, but it’s a nice compliment.” He smiled. “Are you ready? I’ll show you where to go.”
“Flying? Are you sure? I can conceal myself for a few hundred beats, but that’s not much.”
“Conceal yourself?” Rokshan said curiously.
“Blend in with my surroundings. It’s how I surprised your company when I snatched you.”
Rokshan took a step back. “I remember. You seemed to come out of nowhere. I thought it was just confusion, but—you make yourself invisible?”
Lamprophyre shook her head. “No, it’s—let me show you.” She examined her surroundings, the dull red wood of the inner wall, the darker rust of the packed earth, and let her awareness shiver over her, making her body tingle pleasantly. The bright blue of her scales and the copper of her wing membranes shimmered once, and then a rusty hue bled across them, dulling their shine. Lamprophyre blinked at Rokshan, then closed her eyes to hide their copper brightness—not something concealment could disguise.
She heard Rokshan take in a quick breath. “That’s astonishing,” he said. “Can you do it anywhere?”
“It’s easier against a solid background. And it doesn’t last long. Mostly we use it while hunting animals that don’t have a good sense of smell.” Lamprophyre shook her body as if that would make the color bleed away faster and watched her hands return to their normal blue color. “But I wouldn’t be able to conceal you, if you were flying with me.”
“No, I can see that.” Rokshan still stared at her as if expecting her to vanish again. “It’s all right, though. The news of your presence here has spread throughout the city, and while I’m sure people are still afraid, they aren’t terrified, and you won’t surprise them. They have to get used to you sometime, Lamprophyre. Unless you want to be stuck in the coliseum forever?”
Lamprophyre shuddered. “I just don’t want to start another riot. I felt terrible about the first.”
“You won’t.” Rokshan nudged the emerald with his toe. “Should I post guards? Or I suppose we could take the stones with us to protect them.”
“There are all those guards surrounding the coliseum,” Lamprophyre pointed out. “Besides, it’s not as if I can’t get more.”
“True, but you shouldn’t have to,” Rokshan said. “And we don’t want people thinking you’re vulnerable to theft.”
Lamprophyre crouched to give Rokshan an assist up. “I think they’re more likely to be too terrified of what I might do to a thief. Really, it will be all right.”
Rokshan settled himself into the notch. “You make a good point. Up, and to the north. Mekel said to look for the big blue roof.”
Lamprophyre nodded and pushed off from the rusty earth, smiling at Rokshan’s shout of excitement. Flying was so much better with a rider who appreciated it.
Chapter Twelve
Lamprophyre rose higher, flapping leisurely and scanning the ground below. An empty space wide enough for her to stretch out in circled the coliseum, with smaller streets leaving it at random intervals to connect with other streets in a drunken web covering the city. “Nobody’s screaming,” she said, relieved.
“They’re also not coming close to the coliseum,” Rokshan said. “I can’t tell if anyone’s noticed you.”
Lamprophyre swooped northward, surveying the streets. “A few,” she said, her keen eye picking out movement as humans pointed upward and nudged their neighbors.
“You must have very good eyesight,” Rokshan said. He leaned out and added, “I see the blue roof. The one not as bright as you? Ahead, and to the right a little.”
Lamprophyre tore her gaze from the humans. The blue roof was much bigger than those next to it, and was dull as if the weather had worn at it for years. She wished she knew more about human buildings to be able to guess what this one was for, if it could be repurposed for a dragon.
T
he narrow streets converged into one larger one that pointed at the blue roof as if guiding Lamprophyre there. She dropped lower as she approached, looking for a place to land. Now the humans were pointing and staring, and the city’s voice grew louder, rumbling like oncoming thunder. But no one fled, no one screamed, and Lamprophyre swept past them to alight at the center of a round, empty space next to the blue roof. She hoped it didn’t belong to someone who might object.
From the ground, the blue roof’s shape looked strange, angled sharply down on both sides from a broad ridge Lamprophyre might be able to perch on. By comparison to the other, more shallowly inclined roofs, it looked like a dragon’s wings half-folded after a long flight. A narrow opening, arched at the top, gave access to the building beneath the odd roof. The opening was taller than Lamprophyre and wide enough for her to enter if she kept her wings tightly furled. It would barely be big enough to fit Hyaloclast. For all its odd shape, the building was certainly big enough to hold her, assuming it opened up past the entrance, and her curiosity increased.
She turned away from the building, keeping her tail well off the ground so she didn’t run into Rokshan, and faced the wide street that ended where the circle of bare ground began. Humans filled the street, motionless except for a few very small ones she guessed were children, struggling in their parents’ arms. Children and dragonets seemed the same when it came to anything new; they were so small and inexperienced, everything was equally fascinating to them. Lamprophyre thought of Opal and the rest of the newest clutch and wondered what they might think of this crowd of strange creatures.
“Good morning,” she said, pitching her voice to carry past the first rank of humans. “Rank” was a good word for more than one reason; the humans smelled strongly of sweat and meat and a sweetish odor she didn’t recognize. She hadn’t smelled anything unusual on Rokshan and guessed it was having so many of them together in one place that did it.
Several humans stepped backward when she spoke and ran up against others who hadn’t moved, and a few people gasped, but no one fled or screamed. Their thoughts were a mad tangle of fear and curiosity at war with one another, and Lamprophyre, feeling a little overwhelmed, blocked them out. She bowed awkwardly and added, “My name is Lamprophyre, and I thank you for your welcome. Your city is very nice.” It hadn’t actually been much of a welcome, but politeness was the sort of thing expected of an ambassador.
No one spoke. Rokshan walked forward and said, “Lamprophyre is the daughter of the dragon queen and an ambassador of her people to humans. You don’t need to fear her. I hope Tanajital will make her feel welcome.”
A scream rang out, causing the crowd to turn and sway as an unseen something moved toward Rokshan and Lamprophyre. A very small human burst through the crowd, laughing as it ran. A larger human with long hair pushed after it, crying out, “Stop!”
Rokshan took a few rapid steps forward and snatched up the child, who struggled in his grip and stretched out its arms toward Lamprophyre. The female chasing the child stumbled to a halt beside Rokshan, staring up at Lamprophyre with her mouth hanging open. Lamprophyre squatted so she didn’t overtop the humans and said, “Is this your child? I’ve never seen a human child before. They aren’t much smaller than a hatchling dragonet.”
The female reached for the child, her eyes never leaving Lamprophyre’s. Lamprophyre considered asking to touch the child, but decided that was too much to expect. After all, she wouldn’t touch a dragonet she wasn’t related to. But she examined it closely. It had thick, short dark hair and wore only a cloth wrapped around its midsection, and its brown skin was lighter than Rokshan’s. It laughed again and waved at Lamprophyre. Lamprophyre waved back, causing its mouth to fall open to match its mother’s.
Rokshan handed the child off to the female. “As I said, you have nothing to fear from Lamprophyre,” he said, loudly enough that his voice echoed faintly off the surrounding buildings. “And if any of you would like to speak with her, that can be arranged.”
The crowd shifted again, but this time Lamprophyre heard someone saying, “Excuse me…please step aside…if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to pass.” The crowd parted for Mekel, who looked slightly disheveled, his thinning hair in disarray. Lamprophyre was surprised, if Mekel was the king’s representative, that the humans didn’t show him as much respect as they would have the king. One more curiosity she didn’t understand.
Mekel bowed to her. “My lady ambassador, thank you for meeting me here,” he said. “I have investigated a number of royal holdings here in Tanajital, and I’m sorry to say none of them are immediately satisfactory as a dragon embassy. But I believe this place may be remodeled to your satisfaction, if it proves large enough.” He gestured at the arched opening.
Lamprophyre half-turned, then faced the crowd again. “It was nice meeting you,” she said, “and I hope to be a good ambassador to your people.” She bowed, shallowly because she was off-balance, and turned to follow Rokshan into the blue-roofed building.
She’d been right about the size of the opening; she passed through easily so long as she furled her wings tightly along her sides. There were caves with mouths as narrow back home. Within, the space opened up wide enough to allow her to stretch her wings to their full extension, which she did.
The only light came from the opening, but Mekel handed a strange metal contraption about the size of Lamprophyre’s fist to Rokshan, saying, “If you wouldn’t mind, your highness?” Rokshan crossed to Lamprophyre’s left side and did something with the contraption that made a spark, and then a tiny flame grew to a bright light inside a metal and crystal box attached to the wall. Lamprophyre examined it closely. The box was half the size of Lamprophyre’s head and had sides of crystal clearer than any Lamprophyre had seen before. It smelled of burning oil and gave off a nice warm glow. She tapped the crystal with her sixth claw, expecting to hear a clear ting. Instead, there was a dull click, and a crack spread across the crystal.
“Careful,” Rokshan called out from the far end of the room when she exclaimed. “The glass isn’t very thick.”
“Glass?”
Rokshan came back toward her. “Glass is something humans make. It lets light pass through—we use it in lanterns like these, to keep them from burning too high from the wind, or in window openings so we can see out without, well, the wind blowing through our houses.”
“I know what glass is. Female dragons make it out of sand when we’re young. Like a game. But I’ve never seen glass like this. It looks like crystal, but finer.” Lamprophyre started to tap the glass again, but thought better of it. It was the first human thing she’d seen that she could call an improvement on what dragons had. Imagine a sheet of this glass blocking the western winds that always brought cold rain with them!
“I should take you to visit the glassblowers. They’d be fascinated to compare experiences.”
Rokshan turned away to join Mekel at the center of the hall. Mekel had lit many more lanterns all up and down the right-hand wall, and Lamprophyre examined her surroundings more closely. The floor was packed earth like the coliseum, but less red, and her toe claws made the barest of scratches on its surface. The roof rose to a sharply angled crease that matched what she’d seen of the blue roof, but it was more than twice as tall as Lamprophyre and didn’t make her feel claustrophobic.
Down low, between the lanterns, were slabs of wood set into the wall, about as tall as Lamprophyre’s leg and placed at regular intervals. Small sheets of metal the size of her palm were attached to the walls above each slab, and the curved and straight lines Rokshan had called writing were carved into each one. Curious.
There was something strange about the walls where they met the ceiling. Patches of pale brown tinged here and there with light blue made a dark contrast to the walls, as if someone had smeared dirt over those places. She wanted to investigate, but as broad as the room was, it wasn’t big enough for flying, and the high ceiling was out of reach.
Lamprophyre decided to igno
re it for now and walked to the far end of the room, where another archway matching the entrance stood. This one had wood filling it. Lamprophyre inhaled the dusty, warm scent of damp wood and was transported to the cherry orchards south of her mountain home.
“What is this place?” she asked Mekel.
“It was a customs house twenty years ago, before the new one was built at the landing,” Mekel said. “From when more trade came through the overland route.”
Very little of that made sense to Lamprophyre. She grasped the one thing that did make sense and said, “So your trade routes changed, and this place wasn’t needed anymore?”
“Exactly, my lady,” Mekel said. “This is the main house, and there are outbuildings we can convert into lodgings for your staff. The people who serve you,” he added.
“It’s not much better than a warehouse,” Rokshan said.
“We will clean and refurbish it, paint the outside and inside, and enlarge the left-hand offices into a kitchen and dining hall,” Mekel said.
Rokshan turned in a slow circle with his head tilted back, looking at the ceiling. “I think those windows should be removed. This place will be stuffy come full summer.”
“As you command, your highness.”
Lamprophyre couldn’t tell what Rokshan was looking at, but he was right about the stuffiness. It was comfortably warm now, which meant it could become unbearably hot. “What is this?” she asked, tapping the archway covered with wood.
“The back door, my lady,” Mekel said. He pushed on the wood and it split down the middle, one half swinging outward to reveal more packed earth and two lines of smaller buildings facing one another. “Those used to be storage for trade goods. It will take very little to turn them into housing.”
Rokshan pushed the other sheet of wood, making it swing open, and disappeared around the corner to the left. “Come look at this, Lamprophyre,” he said, his voice muffled.
Spark the Fire Page 11