Spark the Fire

by Melissa McShane

  Fear surged, and the watching humans backed away. “You don’t have anything to fear from me,” she added, smiling for reassurance. She hoped. But the noise of their tangled thoughts built until she stopped, swaying with confusion, and blocked them all. A murmur, this one audible to her ears and not her mind, rose above the normal background sound of the city. And the crowd broke and ran, cries of panic threading through the murmur.

  “Stop!” Lamprophyre exclaimed, taking a few steps after the fleeing humans before coming to her senses. It made no sense. She hadn’t done anything but say hello, and they’d clearly been terrified of her. Her chest ached with sorrow and embarrassment and a little anger. Stupid humans being afraid of someone just because she was big and indestructible and could breathe fire. It wasn’t as if she’d done the last within the city. All right, a few times, but just to cook meat, and no one had seen that.

  She entered the embassy—how easily she’d come to think of it that way—and flopped down in the center, curling up with her wings spread over herself for comfort. If humans couldn’t learn not to fear her, there was no point in remaining in Tanajital. Except there was, because she’d promised Hyaloclast she’d find the egg thieves. How could she do that if every human she met ran screaming?

  She went over the humans she’d met who hadn’t fled from her. The king, Ekanath. Rokshan’s sisters Tekentriya and Manishi. Akarshan—she probably wouldn’t see him again, since the palace kitchens would no longer provide her food. Some of Akarshan’s associates. Mekel. General Sajan. And Sabarna. It was a tiny handful of people, all of whom had reason to understand she wasn’t dangerous. She couldn’t exactly introduce herself personally to every human in Tanajital.

  Someone outside called her name, and she lifted her head to see Rokshan run through the entrance. “Are you all right?” he said. “The streets have gone mad. It’s not a riot, but I sent word to Sajan to be prepared to keep the peace.”

  “It’s all my fault,” Lamprophyre muttered. “I didn’t even do anything, but they were afraid anyway.”

  “It’s not your fault, it’s this.” Rokshan waved a thin sheet of something pale cream that fluttered like a giant leaf. “I can’t believe it. It’s pure stupidity—criminal stupidity, if it starts a riot and gets people killed.”

  “I don’t understand. How can a leaf do that?”

  “This is paper, Lamprophyre. We write on it, or print on it.” He held it still so she could see the curving and straight lines of writing on both sides. “This is a handbill—that just means a short piece of writing to be handed out in the street. It’s full of…I shouldn’t tell you, it will make you angry.”

  Lamprophyre sat up. “Now you have to tell me.”

  Rokshan sighed. “Leaving out the details, it’s a bunch of lies about dragons and you in particular. How you’re here to investigate the city so the rest of the dragons can attack it and kill all the people. How dragons only pretend to be friendly so they can lull humans into complacency and make them easier to kill.”

  Infuriated, Lamprophyre rose to her full height and snapped her wings open. “That’s ridiculous! Why would anyone believe that?”

  “Because humans are afraid of things they don’t understand. So much in this world is dangerous to us, it’s safer to assume anything new is a threat.” Rokshan crumpled the handbill and dropped it on the floor. “What matters more is that someone went to the trouble of spreading these rumors, and I would like to know who. And why they did it.”

  Lamprophyre realized she was towering over Rokshan and settled back down, furling her wings. “So would I. Why would anyone care about making humans afraid of dragons?”

  “Someone who doesn’t want Gonjiri to make common cause with them,” Rokshan said. “Like those disaffected Gonjirians we thought might exist. Or Fanishkor.”

  “You said tensions were high between your country and theirs.”

  “Yes, and Fanishkor might be afraid of Gonjiri negotiating an agreement with the dragons that would have dragons attacking Fanishkor on Gonjiri’s behalf.”

  “We wouldn’t do that. We aren’t interested in getting involved in human wars.”

  “Fanishkor wouldn’t believe that. King Damen is paranoid and suspicious and believes everyone thinks the way he does. I’ll wager he’s kicking himself right now that he didn’t think to approach dragons first.”

  “Wait. Just—wait.” Lamprophyre lowered her head until it was even with Rokshan’s. “If Fanishkor is worried about Gonjiri having dragons on their side, wouldn’t they want to make us angry with Gonjiri so we wouldn’t join you?”

  “You mean they could be the egg thieves? But those were definitely Gonjirian bandits.” Rokshan closed his eyes and said that unfamiliar curt word. “Who might have been disguised to look that way, to fool us. And you.”

  “We don’t know the difference between human kingdoms, so that ruse wouldn’t have mattered,” Lamprophyre said, “except that we would have assumed the egg thieves and the humans moving into our territory came from the same place. So it would have worked if not for you insisting on helping me.”

  “And if you hadn’t been willing to stand up to Hyaloclast so she’d listen to my proposal,” Rokshan said.

  Lamprophyre shivered despite the heat. “I don’t think your father realizes how close he came to having Tanajital razed by dragon fire.”

  “It’s even more frightening to think it’s still a possibility,” Rokshan said. “What would Hyaloclast do if you were attacked by humans?”

  “They can’t hurt me.”

  “I know, but attacking you is aggression against dragons. How would Hyaloclast respond?”

  “I suppose I would go home and tell her, and she would probably evict the humans from dragon territory and forbid dragons to go anywhere near human lands.” The thought of never seeing Rokshan again sent a pang of sorrow through her chest.

  “Well, if the people of Tanajital attacked the Fanishkorite embassy, it would be an excuse for Fanishkor to go to war against us. Whoever spread these rumors probably thinks dragons would behave the same. That humans attacking you would bring dragons down on the city.”

  Lamprophyre shook her head. “I’m not that important. If they attacked Hyaloclast, maybe, but not me. But what matters is what those humans believe.”

  “Right.” Rokshan started pacing in front of the door. “We can’t let them succeed. There has to be some way to show people the truth so they don’t believe the lies.”

  “What can I do to prove I’m not violent? Since the fact that I haven’t attacked anyone in the half-dozen days I’ve been here isn’t enough.”

  Rokshan stopped to look her up and down, then resumed pacing. “You’ve been isolated for all that time, which in hindsight was a bad idea. It let people build up a monster in their minds because they never saw the real thing. I think you need to show yourself, and I think you need allies. People to interact with you to show you’re not dangerous.”

  “I don’t know how to get that. I know practically no one in the city, and half the people I know are members of the royal family and have better things to do with their time than talk to strange commoners.”

  “You leave that to me,” Rokshan said. “For now, let’s fly.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lamprophyre peered at the paper in Rokshan’s hand. The clear light filling the embassy made the marks stand out against the creamy background. “I wish I could read,” she said. “What do the marks mean?”

  “It’s an invitation,” Rokshan said. “The front side says Tanajital is invited to meet the dragon ambassador at her embassy tonight. It’s short notice for a diplomatic gathering, but this gives our enemy no time to plan a counterattack. And it’s not a typical diplomatic gathering, either. Those are for nobles and foreign dignitaries.”

  “What is on the back side?”

  “Things about you that are interesting. Who your mother is. Where you’re from. Anything I could think of that made you sound like an ordin
ary person with ordinary interests. Insofar as that’s possible.” Rokshan folded the paper and tucked it inside his shirt. “And I’ve spent the last two days having my own handbills spread throughout the city. One of them counters, point by point, the one our enemy produced. The other is a poem I found in the palace archives—”

  “Humans compose poems?”

  “Yes—I take it so do dragons?”

  “I love poetry. I know hundreds of poems and I’m very good at recitation.”

  Rokshan grimaced. “I wish I’d known that, it could have gone on the invitation. Also, I want—no, there’s no time now. At any rate, I found a poem about dragons written by a human some three hundred years ago. It’s not very accurate, because the woman lived in a time when we all thought dragons were dead and she’d never seen one, but it’s very complimentary. I hope it reminds people that we weren’t always afraid of you.”

  “That’s interesting. Can I hear the poem?”

  “I didn’t memorize it, but I’ll bring you a copy.”

  Movement by the embassy door drew Lamprophyre’s attention. She sat up as a human male entered. His thoughts showed no fear of her, which surprised her; she hadn’t stayed hidden in the embassy for the last two days, had made herself as visible as she could by flying over the city, but she hadn’t approached any humans either. Being feared and shunned hurt her feelings.

  Rokshan strode across the floor to greet the newcomer. “You got my message.”

  “All three of them,” the male said. “Did you think I’d forgotten how to read, or were you just afraid your incentives weren’t enough?”

  Rokshan laughed and clapped the male on his shoulder. The male was a little taller than Rokshan and broader in the shoulders, and his hair was a lighter brown than Lamprophyre had yet seen on a human. “Come and meet the dragon ambassador,” Rokshan said. “Lamprophyre, this is my friend Dharan. Dharan, this is Lamprophyre.”

  Lamprophyre sat up straight and examined this male Rokshan had called the most brilliant mind of his generation. He looked like any other human male, though his clothes were more colorful than Rokshan’s. If he was intelligent, it didn’t show on the outside any more than a dragon’s intelligence did.

  Dharan gazed at Lamprophyre curiously. “Already I can see how our stories are wrong,” he said. “The pictures show you as much, much bigger, with scales the size of a human hand. And no records indicate how brightly colored you are. Or are you unique among dragons?”

  “I’m not full-sized—I’ll add another half dozen handspans to my length in the next fifteen years,” Lamprophyre said. “And all dragons have some bright color about them. Even Hyaloclast, our queen, isn’t pure black.”

  “Astonishing,” Dharan said. “Rokshan said dragons don’t have a written language. Do you know why not?”

  Lamprophyre shook her head. “It could be that we live long enough, and have memories good enough, that we don’t need to write things down to remember them. Though we have art—we draw on our cave walls, and in places in the heights, and we carve sculptures.”

  Dharan let out a quiet groan and ran his fingers through his hair. “Dragon art. I have to see it.”

  “We don’t want humans in our homes, sorry. I suppose I could draw for you, but I’m not an outstanding artist.”

  “That would be nice. But I understand you want to learn to read and write?”

  “And share stories,” Rokshan said.

  “I would, yes,” Lamprophyre said. “It’s such an interesting concept, that lines and curves could mean something other than pictures.”

  Dharan glared at Rokshan. “You waited three days before sending word. I have to question whether our friendship means anything to you.”

  Lamprophyre drew in a breath to protest, but Rokshan laughed and slapped Dharan on the back. “It was a busy three days. Lamprophyre, would you mind letting Dharan fly with you?”

  “I don’t mind.” That wasn’t entirely true. Dharan wasn’t her friend yet, and flying with Rokshan felt like an extension of their friendship in a very personal way. Still, she could be polite.

  But Dharan was shaking his head. “Don’t be offended, Lamprophyre, but I’m terrible with heights,” he said. “I get dizzy at the top of stairs. Flying—that sounds like a nightmare.”

  “It’s perfectly safe, but I understand,” Lamprophyre said.

  “Your loss,” Rokshan said. “Do you want to take rooms at the palace?”

  Dharan shook his head again. “Not if Anchala is living there,” he said. “I realize she’s your sister, but she’s convinced I’m her true love and no amount of reasoning can change her mind.”

  “Yet another one of your many conquests. How many women has your mother dangled in front of you this year?”

  “Too many.” Dharan glanced at Lamprophyre. “Is it true dragons mate for life?”

  Lamprophyre had had trouble following their conversation, so she jumped on this uncomplicated question gratefully. “We are pair-bonded for life, yes.”

  “Did you leave your mate behind when you came to Gonjiri?”

  Lamprophyre laughed. “No, I’m young enough nobody expects me to choose a partner for a few more years. I hope by then I’ll be attracted to someone in the flight. They’re all friends, but I don’t feel interested in any of the available males.”

  Dharan nodded. “I’m in exactly your position, except my mother thinks I’m past old enough to marry. I’m only twenty-six, for Jiwanyil’s sake!”

  “So you could, um, marry, but you don’t want to?”

  “Dharan is waiting for the perfect woman,” Rokshan said. “Intelligent, beautiful, well-spoken, and strong-willed enough to stand up to his mother. I keep telling him he’s expecting a miracle, but he’s stubborn.”

  “As if your mother doesn’t despair of you ever settling down,” Dharan said. “Let’s go to the Hidden Ivy and get me a room, and then I’d love to talk more with you, Lamprophyre. It will give me a sense of how to teach you.”

  “I’d like that,” Lamprophyre said. “Will there be enough time before the reception?”

  “I have people coming to prepare food late this afternoon,” Rokshan said, “and more people to hang lights and do other things to make the embassy even more attractive. But you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “People—that sounds like many servants. Do I have enough coin?”

  “Don’t worry about that, either.”

  Lamprophyre put her head low enough to stare Rokshan in the face. He returned her regard placidly. “That makes me worried. I know we already used some of Manishi’s coin to hire the humans who keep the embassy clean and cook my food, but it must take a lot of food if we plan to feed all of Tanajital. Where did I get more coin?”

  “It’s all right, Lamprophyre. You borrowed money from me.” Rokshan gripped her hand briefly. “We’ll have to make another flight to the mountains, that’s all. I promise not to be an importunate lender.”

  Lamprophyre felt skeptical of this. She knew enough about how humans felt about coin to be certain loaning it out to others was a sensitive subject. But she also knew Rokshan well enough to recognize when arguing with him was pointless. “Tomorrow night,” she said. “Maybe there will be garnet available.”

  “Garnet?” Dharan said.

  “I’ll explain as we go,” Rokshan said. “Try and rest, Lamprophyre. It’s going to be a long, busy night.”

  When the two males were gone, Lamprophyre settled comfortably on the earth floor and rested her head on her arms. She wasn’t at all certain Rokshan’s plan would work. On the other hand, it wasn’t as if she had any other options. If she wanted humans to like her, she had to prove she was likeable. Even her servants were nervous around her, though none of them were outright afraid. She hoped with time that would change.

  She also worried about the hidden enemy behind the stolen egg. Everything she and Rokshan had discussed made sense, but it was still all guesswork. She had no proof. Hyaloclast might accept gu
esswork, but Lamprophyre wanted to be sure, if dragons were going to attack someone, that it was the right someone. And she didn’t know how to turn guesswork into proof, short of listening to the thoughts of everyone who might have been involved and hoping one of them would incriminate herself.

  Lamprophyre sighed, sending up a puff of smoke, and closed her eyes. Time enough to worry about that when she wasn’t at odds with everyone in Tanajital. She hoped Rokshan’s efforts would matter.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lamprophyre sat on her haunches in the circle outside the embassy, what Rokshan had called a courtyard, and stared in amazement. Thousands of tiny lights like stars fallen to earth winked at her, outlining the steep blue roof and the walls. More lights sparkled around the dining pavilion, winding around the pillars and dangling from the roof. When it was full dark, the effect would be even more amazing.

  Servants were putting up lanterns as well, flanking the entrance and attached to the pavilion to shed a warm, bright glow over the colorful walls. In the lantern light, the walls were more yellow than white, and the blue paint took on a greenish tinge, but the embassy was still beautiful in that alien, human way. The smells of roasted meat and fresh green things emanated from the pavilion, which was now full of tables—those were the odd horizontal surfaces she’d seen in her kitchen. Flat stones contained piles of food, all of it human food, hopefully appetizing. More servants bustled back and forth from the kitchen carrying those flat, thin stones or large sheets of metal, all of which smelled of food.

  She stepped closer to the pavilion and gingerly touched one of the twinkling lights. It didn’t fall down or go out. Looking closer, she realized it was tied to a thin string that was invisible in the twilight. Staring at the light gave her a headache, even as small as the thing was, so she turned her back on it and surveyed the street. It was empty. Lamprophyre had grown accustomed to humans filling the street, their thoughts angry or afraid, and she didn’t know what to make of this new development, whether it was good or bad. Though if it was time for the event to begin and no one was here, that suggested bad.