Spark the Fire

by Melissa McShane

  Lamprophyre fit herself through the door and followed Rokshan. He’d entered another building, this one with a roof too low for Lamprophyre to pass under. She crouched to look inside. It was the oddest building she’d yet seen, with poles holding up the roof rather than walls, and it was round rather than oblong. Unlike the customs house, it had a floor of stone slabs fitted closely together that smelled like granite. “What is it?”

  “The counting floor,” Mekel said. “For larger trade items. We will elevate the roof to a proper height and build walls here—” He paced off one side— “and here, for a kitchen.”

  “It’s close to the abattoir,” Rokshan said.

  “Indeed, your highness, and that was part of my consideration,” Mekel said with a bow. “If my lady wishes, we can install a stone floor in the customs house, but it will extend the time of the reconstruction.”

  “No, I’d rather earth,” Lamprophyre said. She liked the softness of the earth in the coliseum and felt a little guilty about that preference, as if she were somehow rejecting her rocky home. “I think this will work. Rokshan, what do you think?”

  Rokshan returned to her side. “It’s not bad,” he said. “Properly altered, it will be ideal. Excellent work, Mekel.”

  Mekel bowed. “Thank you, your highness. I believe my lady ambassador will be able to move in five days from now.”

  Rokshan whistled. “Very fast work. I can’t imagine—that is, did my father order it?”

  Mekel smiled. “His majesty left everything entirely to me,” he said, bowing to Lamprophyre, “and I judged it important to show courtesy to our draconic guest.”

  Lamprophyre managed not to smile. Mekel’s thoughts were unexpectedly clear: any concern for her well-being came entirely from him and not because the king had ordered him to wait on her. It was just as clear he felt he was putting one over on Ekanath. Lamprophyre didn’t understand the subtleties of his emotion, because no dragon felt that strange mix of respect and disdain for Hyaloclast, but she guessed Mekel knew as well as Rokshan what the king was like.

  Rokshan extended his hand to Mekel, who clasped it briefly. Lamprophyre reminded herself to ask about the gesture, in case it was something she needed to learn. “Thank you, Mekel,” Rokshan said. “We won’t forget this.”

  “It’s my pleasure to serve,” Mekel said. Imagine what a dragon might do for me, he thought, surprising Lamprophyre. It didn’t feel like a completely selfish thought, but it lacked the pure altruism of Akarshan’s desires to serve her. It might be a good idea to watch Mekel carefully, in case his motivations became darker. On the other hand, someone motivated by self-interest was fairly easy to control, and Lamprophyre much preferred Mekel’s desire for an exchange of favors over Manishi’s greed.

  She crouched to let Rokshan up, waved at Mekel, and took to the skies. Thinking of Manishi reminded her that the princess would arrive that day to make an exchange. With luck, Lamprophyre would get more than coin out of her—would learn things that might lead her to the creator of that horrible wand.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Her successful encounter with the humans gave Lamprophyre confidence enough not to return to the coliseum immediately. Instead, she flew over Tanajital, keeping well above the highest buildings, just in case. Rokshan didn’t say anything, so she felt she’d chosen right.

  She glided past the tall buildings that formed the center of the eastern half of the city and was startled to see another winged shape pass between her and the white towers, one that disappeared when the buildings were past. “Another dragon!” she exclaimed, searching the sky for the telltale signs of concealment.

  Rokshan laughed. “No, that was your reflection,” he said. “The glass works like a mirror in some lights—you know what a mirror is?”

  “Yes, but our mirrors are obsidian, not bright like that glass.” Lamprophyre swung around and took another pass around the same tower, more slowly. This time, it was obvious the “other dragon” was herself, not just because she was the only bright blue dragon in the flight, but because Rokshan was reflected in the glass as well. “But that can’t be why you put glass in your buildings.”

  “No, it’s like I said, the glass lets us see out without the wind blowing dust inside.”

  The wind at this height wasn’t terribly strong, but in a storm, it would be unbearable. “That’s very clever,” Lamprophyre said. “It’s interesting how you build your caves to meet human needs.”

  “I think it’s a human trait to alter our environment,” Rokshan said. “Do dragons build their own caves, or do you use natural ones?”

  “We mostly use natural ones, but we hollow them out to suit our tastes. So I guess we are more like humans than I thought.” Lamprophyre dove, drawing a shout of excitement from Rokshan. She laughed in pleasure. “I think you love flying more than I do.”

  “It’s amazing. And—don’t take this the wrong way, but we really do fit well together. I know you said dragons aren’t human servants, but don’t you think it’s odd that this notch makes the perfect seat for me?”

  Lamprophyre was so used to Rokshan’s presence she barely felt his weight anymore. “I suppose it is odd. That notch—it doesn’t really serve a purpose other than to give our wings added flexibility. So the fact that it works perfectly as a seat for you is strange. But I don’t believe Mother Stone created us with that purpose in mind.”

  “There are scholars who think it’s possible to tell for what purpose things came into being based on their shape. Like, a plant with leaves like a foot is good for healing feet. But I don’t believe that applies to thinking creatures. Besides, I can’t imagine humans being capable of forcing dragons to let them ride them.”

  The idea should have made Lamprophyre laugh, but she remembered the sapphire wand and it didn’t seem so funny. “On the other hand,” she said, “maybe humans and dragons used to take advantage of the coincidence the way you and I do.”

  “I like that idea,” Rokshan said. “I asked Anchala what she knew about dragons and humans living together, and she said there are records describing the mountain heights beyond where any human could go. Meaning that the humans who wrote them either talked to dragons, or went with dragons to those places. So that’s some evidence.”

  “Our stories don’t say much about humans and practically nothing about humans and dragons together. They’re…”

  “They’re what?”

  “It’s odd, but I’ve just realized all the stories I can think of about humans are…I’m not sure I can explain it. They’re all sort of unreal. Like, if you heard them in isolation, you’d think they were about mythical creatures. Except dragons definitely knew humans were real before you showed up all over our lands.”

  Rokshan’s hand brushed the tender spot at the back of her head. “Does that mean something?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not. It’s just strange, don’t you think? That we have no memories of humans in relation to dragons even though you do?”

  “I’m still getting used to the idea that dragons don’t read and write. That, to me, is strange.”

  Lamprophyre banked to follow the line of the Green River. It looked so cool and comfortable. “I wonder if I could learn to read.”

  “I don’t see why not. I can find someone to teach you.”

  “Not you?” The thought made Lamprophyre feel hollow, a feeling she suppressed as irrational. Just because Rokshan was her friend didn’t mean they had to do everything together.

  Rokshan laughed. “I’m a terrible teacher. I’ve got no patience and even less tact. Dharan used to say it was a good thing our roles weren’t reversed, because if I’d been his tutor I’d have driven him crazy and he, as a prince, would have had me executed.”

  “It’s too bad Dharan doesn’t live in Tanajital. He sounds like the perfect teacher. And we’d be able to meet.”

  Rokshan said nothing for a moment. “I wonder,” he finally said. “Maybe it’s not a bad idea, bringing Dharan here.”

/>   “You could do that?”

  “Well, no. It would be up to Dharan. But I can ask. Like I said before, he would love to be able to discuss ancient legends with you. Just comparing our versions of the same stories would give him something to write about for years.”

  Lamprophyre flew lower until she was skimming the surface of the river. She lowered a toe to dip into the water, sending up a wave of spray that cooled her leg. “I would like that. If it’s not inconvenient.”

  “We’ll leave it to Dharan. Too bad we can’t fly to Kolmira right now, but we’d just start another riot.”

  Kolmira. Lamprophyre remembered Rokshan saying that was where the egg thieves had fled. “Yes, that’s too bad,” she said. A flash of guilt struck her, and she buried it deep. She’d promised Hyaloclast to keep her true intentions secret, and suppose she was wrong about Rokshan and he was involved? The idea felt wrong, deep inside, but she had her orders, and obeying her queen was as ingrained in her as her ability to fly. Even so, it didn’t feel right.

  She swung away from the river and headed back to Tanajital. “I’ll need a bath soon,” she said.

  “We could go for a night swim tonight, or during the day tomorrow,” Rokshan said.

  “You don’t think it would frighten the humans on the boats?”

  “I think they might be more frightened if they come upon us at night, actually. Humans don’t see in the dark as well as you do, and you’d seem more—forgive me—like a monster at night.”

  That made sense. “Tomorrow, then,” Lamprophyre said.

  “Let’s go back to the coliseum, and I’ll send a message to Dharan,” Rokshan said, “and then I’ll be back before Manishi comes. Though if she arrives before I do—”

  “I won’t make any trades with her, don’t worry,” Lamprophyre said. “She’d just try to cheat me.”

  “I’m sorry she’s so avaricious. But I’m sure she’ll honor her agreements.”

  Lamprophyre settled down on the coliseum floor and crouched to let Rokshan off. The stones lay in their piles, undisturbed. Lamprophyre squatted next to them and took a bite of quartz, smooth and savory. “I feel so decadent, eating in the middle of the day,” she murmured around her mouthful.

  Rokshan chuckled. “Many humans eat three times a day,” he said. “You can say you’re acclimatizing to the culture.”

  Lamprophyre took another bite. “If I turn too human, I’ll never hear the end of it from Hyaloclast.”

  “It can be our secret,” Rokshan said. He waved and trotted away out of the coliseum.

  Lamprophyre settled on the earthen floor, chewing peacefully. She needed to do something ambassadorial soon or she’d feel she’d come to Tanajital under false pretenses. Well. She had come under false pretenses, but she was really only trying to fool the egg thieves and the maker of that wand, and they were her enemies, so that was all right.

  Even so, it was time she worked out a plan to fulfil Hyaloclast’s instructions. She felt certain the dragons only had one enemy—or, rather, they might have several enemies, but the theft of Opal’s egg had been planned by one human or group of humans working together. So she had two ways to approach finding that enemy. One was to track down the bandits who’d stolen the egg. The other was to find the human who’d created the wand. It sounded so simple.

  Lamprophyre scowled. Sounded simple, but was actually difficult. Rokshan was sure the bandits had gone to Kolmira, which ought to be a definitive direction, but as he’d pointed out, if she went there, she’d just start a riot. That would make it nearly impossible for her to question humans about the bandits.

  And finding out who’d made the wand was even more complicated, given that she didn’t know who might be capable of creating such a weapon, or where that person might be, or even if the person had known what they were doing. Suppose they’d made it at the behest of someone else? She blew an impatient cloud of smoke from her nostrils and propped her chin in her hands. She needed more information, and she didn’t know how to get it.

  “It looks like you were successful,” someone said, startling Lamprophyre out of her reverie. Manishi came toward her, looking exactly as she had the day before, as if she’d slept in her clothes. Lamprophyre knew from observation that humans didn’t generally do this, but she couldn’t draw any conclusions about Manishi from this fact. “Can I see?”

  Lamprophyre got to her feet. “I brought back things I thought were interesting. You’ll have to tell me if you agree.”

  Manishi crouched beside the piles. “This is just granite,” she said with distaste.

  “That’s for me. The other piles are the ones you might like.”

  Manishi picked up the chunk of emerald and turned it over to examine all its sides. “Is there more where this came from?”

  “Of course. It’s not a large seam, though.”

  “Unfortunate.” She picked over the other stones, made a pleased noise when she found the turquoise, and actually licked a small nugget of quartz. It was an unsettling action for a human.

  Then she stilled so completely Lamprophyre wondered if she’d had a seizure—did humans have seizures? She reached out to Manishi, but the woman twitched away before Lamprophyre could touch her. Manishi gently touched the kyanite crystal with a trembling hand. “Where did you find this?”

  “It wouldn’t mean anything to you. High in the mountains.” Lamprophyre examined Manishi’s face, but her expression still meant nothing to a dragon, and the woman’s thoughts remained an incomprehensible blur.

  “I’ve never seen so much kyanite in one place.” Manishi stroked the crystal as if the sensation gave her pleasure. “What do you want for it?”

  “I—nothing. I mean, it’s for me to eat. I don’t want to exchange it for coin.”

  “Then half of it. You can always fetch more, right?” Manishi sniffed her fingers, then sucked on one of them as if she were a dragon enjoying a pinch of stone after a meal.

  “Um, I suppose—”

  Manishi stood and dug in the pouch at her waist. “Five vahas for the lot,” she said, showing Lamprophyre a handful of square gold coins. “It’s more than fair.”

  Lamprophyre drew back, resisting the urge to put her hands behind her. “I think we should wait for Rokshan. He will know the value of the stones.” If he could even put a price to the kyanite, which neither of them had thought to investigate.

  “Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

  Manishi sounded angry, and Lamprophyre nearly gave in. She made herself stand upright, which let her tower over Manishi. Manishi stood her ground, which would have impressed Lamprophyre if she’d liked the female at all.

  “I’m saying you’re awfully quick to make me an offer, and we agreed Rokshan would be the one to put a price on this exchange,” she said. “Or I could take this stone to the marketplace and see what I’m offered. Even dragons know humans like to bargain with each other, and I’m sure there are many people who want stone enough to pay more to keep it out of their rivals’ hands.”

  She wasn’t actually sure. All of what she’d said came from an old story about a human selling a stone called a pearl, and she’d always believed that one more fictional than most, given that there was no such stone, but with Rokshan not there, she needed to say something to keep Manishi occupied.

  Manishi continued to stand firm, her head tilted back so she could match gazes with Lamprophyre. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, and now her voice was smooth and lilting, almost musical. “You’re right, we had an agreement that you would sell only to me at a fair price determined by Rokshan. We should wait for him.”

  Lamprophyre didn’t remember agreeing to an exclusive bargain, but it didn’t matter, because there was Rokshan, running toward them. “I hope you didn’t try to cheat Lamprophyre,” he said, breathing heavily.

  “Of course not,” Manishi said. Her voice was full of perfect wounded sorrow. Lamprophyre laughed.

  “I think she did,” she told Rokshan, “but I don’t
hold it against her that she wanted a good bargain for her coin.”

  “I do. Manishi, don’t try that again or we’ll do business with someone else. Devara, maybe?”

  Manishi sucked in a sharp breath. “You wouldn’t.”

  Rokshan smiled. “So, which stones would you like to buy?”

  Manishi stared at him a moment longer, her eyebrows drawn together over her nose, the corners of her mouth turned down. Then she crouched and pointed at the different piles. “All of those,” she said, “and half the kyanite crystal.”

  Rokshan knelt to count, ticking off stones one at a time. “Fifteen vahas for everything except the crystal,” he said. “I don’t know how much to value it at.”

  “I’ll give you ten for it,” Manishi said.

  “Excuse me?” Rokshan stood swiftly and dusted off his hands. “You expect me to trust you to put a value on it?”

  “That’s twice the going rate,” Manishi said. “Market rate, not wholesale. The price is so you won’t go asking around the marketplace and reveal that I’m interested.”

  Rokshan glanced at Lamprophyre. She didn’t even hesitate to listen in on his thoughts: not sure we can trust her, but that’s the devil of a value for a chunk of crystal no longer than her open hand.

  “All right,” Lamprophyre said. “You’ve bought your privacy. But if I find out—”

  “You’d better not ask around,” Manishi said.

  “If I find out some other way that you’ve cheated us, I’ll never trade with you again,” Lamprophyre said. “And you can believe I know where to get more kyanite.”

  “I wouldn’t jeopardize that possibility,” Manishi said. She took more coin out of her pouch and handed it to Rokshan, who made a show of counting it. Then she removed an empty sack made of lumpy woven fabric from where it was tucked into her waistband and crouched to collect the stones. Lamprophyre snapped the kyanite in half and after some thought gave Manishi the slightly smaller piece.