Rokshan laughed. “If I were asking for myself, they’d tell me to whistle for it. But I still have military rank, and they can’t refuse an official request from an Army commander. Though if I’d had to ask Tekentriya directly, she’d have turned me down and the devil with the consequences. So I was circumspect.”
“I see. Did they know anything useful?”
“First, what we already knew, which is that tensions between Gonjiri and Fanishkor are high. Much of what the spies have been doing recently is countering the Fanishkorite spies embedded in our government, if they can find them. I have to admit Tekentriya is good, and they’ve probably rooted all the enemy spies out, but in times like these, Tekentriya’s people have to behave as if their secrets are compromised. Which means laying false trails, and cultivating inside contacts they can feed false information to, that sort of thing.”
Lamprophyre felt dizzy just thinking about it. “That’s a level of duplicity I can barely understand.”
“It’s complicated, but it’s to our benefit. The second thing I learned is that to the best of our knowledge, Fanishkor isn’t making active preparation for war with Gonjiri. That is, they aren’t building up troops or stockpiling weapons or any of the other things that have to happen before they can wage war.”
“But if their plan is to incite the dragons against Gonjiri, they wouldn’t need to, would they?”
“No, they would not,” Rokshan said. “That’s exactly what occurred to me. If that’s their strategy, we should be looking for other signs. Like, for example, if they bought or borrowed a printing press to produce those handbills.”
Lamprophyre didn’t know what a printing press was, but that seemed an irrelevant question. “Or if we could prove they paid those bandits to steal the egg.”
“That would be harder, but yes. It might be easier to find the person who made that wand and follow the trail back to the Fanishkorites.”
“That makes sense. And if it’s not the Fanishkorites, it would prove that too.” She sighed. Rokshan was a warm, comfortable weight against her left side, and she felt increasingly drowsy. “Which means we need to talk to an adept, right? But the ones we know are hiding something as well.”
Rokshan yawned. “Let’s think about that later. I’m falling asleep.”
“So am I,” Lamprophyre said.
She closed her eyes, but despite her fatigue, her thoughts kept her awake. How could they find the enemy adept? Well, the sapphire had been unusually large, and maybe someone remembered selling it. That was one possibility. Or if they could find an adept whose thoughts weren’t a blur, that might work. Lamprophyre remembered Rokshan’s suggestion, that Manishi and Sabarna had artifacts that made their thoughts incomprehensible. An artifact would be made of stone, and Lamprophyre knew more about stone than any adept, she was certain. So what had she smelled?
She cast her mind back to meeting Manishi. She remembered the citrine because it was the first polished stone she’d ever seen. What else? Sodalite, one of her favorite flavors and a rare treat. Aventurine, prettier than it was tasty—Coquina was the color of aventurine and was so proud of that, as if she’d chosen the color instead of it developing as she grew. Lamprophyre shook away thoughts of Coquina and cast her mind back. Sodalite, citrine, aventurine, and quartz, yes, with that chlorite inclusion. Lamprophyre hadn’t scented any other stones on Manishi.
So what had Sabarna worn? There was that bloodstone she said gave her immunity to diseases. If only the dragons had access to that kind of magic, Aegirine might still…but maybe it only worked on humans. She’d also had a string of jade spheres around her wrist and a couple of copper rings, one set with chlorite, one with quartz—oh.
Lamprophyre nearly sat up, but realized she’d wake Rokshan. If it was true that it was an artifact that blurred Manishi and Sabarna’s thoughts, she’d discovered something they had in common that might account for it. Quartz, or chlorite, or both.
Rokshan shifted, muttered something she couldn’t understand, and fell more deeply asleep. He needed rest as much as she did. So many possibilities to pursue, and this was one of many—one with a low priority compared to everything else. Maybe once they’d solved the mystery of the egg thieves, they could investigate this new one. Or maybe they’d figure it out as they went. As if making this decision had settled her tumultuous thoughts, she closed her eyes and soon drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lamprophyre spread the handbill out flat beneath the lens and peered at the tiny writing, which was small enough that even the lens couldn’t make it big enough for her comfort. Most of the words were still unintelligible to her, and sounding things out took forever. But she’d found in the three days since Dharan’s instruction began that it only took a few beats for her to memorize a word once she knew what it was. She was building quite the vocabulary, even if it was of ordinary words that were no use in reading this handbill.
She heard Rokshan’s quick footsteps, unique to him, and looked up. She was learning to interpret his expressions, and he didn’t look happy. “What’s wrong?” she asked as soon as he was close enough for conversation.
“Nothing.” He let out a deep breath. “That is, nothing we can do anything about.”
“Is it something to do with this handbill?” She plucked it from beneath the lens and handed it to him.
Rokshan scowled. “I hoped you wouldn’t see this. Yes, it’s this handbill. Did you read it?”
“I tried. I don’t know enough words yet. And most of them are the complicated words that don’t fit the basic rules for sounding out.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s a bunch of nonsense that was clearly written by Khadar. Nothing specifically targeting you, but reminding people not to have their faith shaken by the appearance of unbelievers in our midst.”
“That makes it sound like I’m going around the city telling everyone their religion is false.”
“Yes, and that’s what’s stupid about it.” Rokshan crushed the handbill in his grip. “Since you haven’t done anything like that aside from one time telling Khadar that Katayan isn’t real, and almost no one heard that, all this does is make people question their faith when they wouldn’t have before.”
“Oh. That is pretty stupid.”
“Well, it’s Khadar. He’s not long on brains.” Rokshan glanced at the crumpled paper and tossed it aside. “And, like I said, there’s nothing we can do about it. It’s just irritating.”
Lamprophyre shot a short, narrow blast of fire at the ball of paper, incinerating it instantly. “We have more important things to worry about. Did you find the person who sold the sapphire?”
“Sort of,” Rokshan said. He sat cross-legged near the lens. “I started by looking for merchants who deal in sapphires regularly. Most of them are lapidaries who sell cut stones, but I found two women who sell the uncut crystals to adepts whose work requires specialized cutting. One of their buyers is Manishi, actually. I described the stone, and neither of them had sold anything like it in the last six months. That’s half a year,” he said when Lamprophyre gave him a confused look.
“I suppose it’s possible whoever did this just happened to have a sapphire that size on hand, but that seems unlikely,” she said. “And they told you this without being suspicious?”
“I told them I was looking to buy one and asked how common they were. I also slipped them a few rupyas to loosen their tongues.” Rokshan grinned. “And I didn’t tell them who I was. Sometimes it’s good not to be so public a figure as Tekentriya or Khadar.”
“All right, so you know none of the sellers in the market have handled that stone,” Lamprophyre said. “What about other markets? Or other countries? If it’s Fanishkor behind the egg theft, wouldn’t the wand maker be a Fanishkorite?”
“Let’s not borrow trouble. We’re starting here because Tanajital has the biggest market in Gonjiri, and it’s bigger than anything Fanishkor has. It’s not unlikely for a Fanishkorite adept to buy stones here. But the important
thing is that it’s the closest source for stones we have. We’ll eliminate all the possibilities in Tanajital and move outward from there afterward.”
Lamprophyre nodded. She couldn’t help thinking of all the many, many humans there were in Gonjiri alone, not to mention in other countries like Fanishkor and Sachetan and more she wasn’t aware of. But Rokshan was right; they needed to start somewhere.
“Anyway,” Rokshan said, “those two sellers didn’t know about the stone, but they told me about the rock sniffer who supplies both of them. He specializes in precious stones and is apparently the only supplier of raw sapphire in Gonjiri. He’s mostly independent, but has been known to hire out his services on an exclusive basis. So if our mystery adept hired him, he could have found that sapphire and delivered it directly to the adept, and no one would know.”
“That sounds promising,” Lamprophyre said, sitting up tall. “How do we find him?”
“That’s where it gets tricky,” Rokshan said. “The rock sniffer, Mendesk, is a real loner, and he’s known to be fiercely independent and prickly about not sharing information with anyone. So he’s unlikely to give up the name of his buyer.”
“Oh,” Lamprophyre said, feeling deflated. “And I was so hopeful.”
“I should say, unlikely to give up the name to another human,” Rokshan said. “I’m counting on his being sufficiently intimidated by a dragon to be more forthcoming.”
Lamprophyre smiled. “So I get to talk to him? Where does he live?”
“He lives in Tanajital, but he’s in the field right now, so no worries about not fitting into his house.” Rokshan stood. “When would you like to go?”
Lamprophyre checked the sky. “That depends on how far away he is. It’s still early afternoon, so if he’s not that far, we could be there and back before sunset.”
“I don’t know exactly where he is. Somewhere in the Kresetni Hills, which is south of Tanajital a couple hundred miles. They’re about as far south as the Parama Mountains are north.”
Human distances still made no sense to Lamprophyre, but she knew how long the trip from Tanajital to her home took. “We can do that. I don’t suppose there are wild cows there? It will be suppertime before we return.”
Rokshan laughed. “No such thing as wild cows, unfortunately, but there are deer all over the hills. Father has a retreat near there—a smaller home he can go to for a rest—and I used to hunt them when I was younger.”
“Not any more?”
“I haven’t been to the retreat in years.” Rokshan followed Lamprophyre into the courtyard. “Not since it became increasingly obvious I was a disappointment to my father for not being interested in a life of politics.”
He sounded bitter enough that Lamprophyre decided to drop the subject. She poked her head around the dining pavilion to the kitchen, where Depik was working. “I won’t be here for supper, so don’t prepare anything,” she said.
Depik nodded. “Meat’s already here, but it will keep until morning.”
“Thank you.” The meat smelled good, and Lamprophyre took a long sniff before returning to the courtyard. She leaned down to let Rokshan climb up. “South—can you give me more direction than that?”
“I’ll point out the Kresetni Hills when we’re close. Then we’ll have to search for him. There are quite a few mines there, so it could take a while, but lots of mines means lots of miners who could point us in the right direction.”
“Makes sense.” She leaped skyward, and in a few dozen beats, she was high above Tanajital and headed south.
She hadn’t taken a long flight in a twelveday, not since gathering stone for Manishi, and it felt so good to properly stretch her wings. Gonjiri south of Tanajital was a mass of colors, every shade of yellow and brown and green imaginable. The colors lay below her in squares so regular they had to be human made, misty with distance but still lush and fertile. She watched them slide past until she left them behind for the mingled green-gray-tan of the plains, similar to the foothills south of her mountain home. Humans had spread much farther than she’d guessed.
She gradually rose higher until the air was crisp and cool and not as damp as at ground level. “You’re not too cold, are you?” she asked Rokshan.
“I’m comfortable, thanks. I like the wind rushing over me.” He leaned forward, pressing against the sensitive spot on the back of her head and making her twitch. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. There’s a spot just where you’re leaning that’s sensitive to pressure. It just feels odd, not painful.”
“I’ll be more careful. Sorry.” He shifted his weight. “We should probably discuss having another reception.”
Lamprophyre groaned. “Another one? Because the first wasn’t catastrophic enough?”
“This one will be a more typical diplomatic event. It’s to introduce you to the other ambassadors and political figures here in Tanajital. My father won’t come, but Tekentriya will, and maybe my mother—she’s not political, but I know she’s curious about you.”
Lamprophyre wanted to meet Rokshan’s mother, if only because she was starting to wonder if there really was anyone he was related to that he got along with. “Is it a good idea to have it at the embassy? Because I know now it’s not the best neighborhood. Not that I’m complaining, because I think I’d be uncomfortable among the wealthy. They have so many strange expectations.”
“I was thinking of having it in the parkland outside the palace. It’s nice and open with plenty of room for guests.”
“You’re sure the king won’t mind?”
“Just so long as I don’t expect him to attend, he wouldn’t care if we held it in the Great Hall. Though that would send the wrong message, that Gonjiri directly supports the dragons.”
“I thought we were friendly with each other. Not quite allies, but mutually supportive.” She caught an updraft and let it boost her a few dragonlengths.
“There’s supportive, and then there’s supportive,” Rokshan said. “Gonjiri is actually in an inferior position with regard to the dragons, because we had to petition you for the right to live in your territory. My father would prefer nobody know this, so he’s behaving as if Gonjiri is more of an equal partner. Pandering to dragons by hosting a reception for you would ruin that impression, because it would look like we’re begging for your approval.”
“I think I understand. Though doesn’t Gonjiri already benefit by having a diplomatic relationship with dragons when no other country does?”
“We would if my father took advantage of that, but he’s angry enough about our subordinate position that he’s not thinking clearly. Or so my mother tells me. I hope he comes to his senses soon. He has to know allying with dragons would keep Fanishkor from attacking.”
“You understand politics well for someone who wants no part of them,” Lamprophyre said.
Rokshan chuckled. “It was part of my instruction, growing up. It’s easier to stay out of politics if you understand the ways in which you might get sucked in. And I find it interesting in the abstract, all the ways people interact with each other.”
“I don’t know if I’m capable of that kind of thinking. It worries me, in terms of interacting with other ambassadors, I mean. You make it sound like everyone’s thinking on at least three different layers all the time.”
“They are, but that actually gives you an advantage. You’re straightforward and honest, and you aren’t easily sidetracked. So if an ambassador wants to trick you into giving something away, instead of trying to match them at their verbal game, you’re more likely to push through to the heart of what they want—especially since you have the advantage of hearing their thoughts. Diplomats aren’t used to that level of discourse.”
Lamprophyre thought about that for a few beats. “That’s interesting. It makes me feel more comfortable.”
“Besides,” Rokshan added, “most of those diplomats are going to be so overawed by you they won’t try to trick you or make you look foolish.”
�
��I’ll try to think of that as a good thing. I prefer humans not to look at me with their mouths hanging open like flycatchers.”
“You know what flycatchers are?”
Lamprophyre chuckled. “They’re predators, sort of—that’s interesting enough even to a dragon who doesn’t normally care about plants.”
They flew in silence for a while. Lamprophyre thought about the possibility of an actual alliance between dragons and humans and concluded it was extremely unlikely so long as Hyaloclast believed there was nothing humans could give them. Lamprophyre had to agree that was true as far as military might went. There were enough adult dragons in the flight to raze Tanajital to the ground in less than half a day, and humans had no weapons to stop them. The thought made Lamprophyre uncomfortable, as if in considering it, she’d made a plan she intended to execute.
But there were other ways in which humans had the advantage of dragons. Cooking, for one. Reading, for another. Lamprophyre could already see some benefits of reading over recitation; you couldn’t read in the dark, true, but suppose you wanted a story and no one felt like telling it? Books didn’t care what kind of mood you were in. And humans were so clever with their construction, they might be able to advise dragons on how to build more efficiently. With glass, even. It wasn’t so impossible to imagine a trade alliance, stones for human ingenuity.
Even so, that kind of alliance required dragons to see for themselves what humans could do, and that was the unlikely thing, that dragons might travel south to investigate these alien creatures. Feelings of despondency crept over Lamprophyre. She and Rokshan would find the egg thieves, she would report to Hyaloclast—
“You just tensed up. Is something wrong?” Rokshan said.
“I was thinking about what would happen when Hyaloclast learns who stole the egg. She’s not temperate in her responses. She might want to burn a city to the ground to avenge us on the thieves. That’s not fair.”
“You can’t convince her otherwise?”
“I can try. She’s rational and listens to logical arguments. The trouble is, she might think it’s logical to make an example so no one ever tries egg theft again. But whoever this is, it can’t be a whole city that’s behind it. Even if it’s the Fanishkorite king, his country shouldn’t suffer for his greed and foolishness.”
Spark the Fire Page 21