Spark the Fire

by Melissa McShane

  Rokshan was silent. “Maybe we’re doing the wrong thing,” he finally said. “I don’t want to see innocents suffer either. And yet…”

  “We can’t let people believe dragons are vulnerable in that way,” Lamprophyre said. “I think we have to see this through, and figure out a solution that doesn’t end in a city burning to the ground later.”

  “How long until the next clutch is laid?”

  “Five or six years. You’re thinking at least we have some time?”

  “Yes. Maybe Hyaloclast’s anger will subside.”

  Lamprophyre considered what she knew of her mother. “I think,” she said, “that’s not something we can count on.”

  It was late afternoon before Lamprophyre spotted the smudge of hills stretching across the horizon. “Is that it?”

  “Yes. They look so small from up here. You’ll want to land on the western slopes. You’ll see the town as you get closer, Southslope. We don’t want to land there, but the largest mine is just east and south of the town, so you can use it as a guide.”

  Lamprophyre followed his directions. The hills were a ruddy streak across the greenish-brown, though as she descended, more green was visible as splotches here and there on the lower slopes. From the air, the hills were foreshortened, but that amount of exposed stone suggested they were higher than they seemed.

  The town of Southslope was nothing like Tanajital with its white walls and golden roofs. It looked like dull clumps of mud, its short buildings huddling together as if intimidated by the hills overlooking it. The hills were more like short mountains, Lamprophyre decided as she swept lower, nothing a dragon would find comfortable, but high enough to be a challenge for human miners.

  She turned east and south and soon saw a gash in the rock that was clearly the opening of a sizable mine. Humans moved in and out of it and around the flat area surrounding it. “Set down over there,” Rokshan said, “far enough away not to scare them, and I’ll see what I can learn.”

  Very few humans noticed her arrival, but the ones who did alerted others. Lamprophyre landed where Rokshan had suggested and furled her wings to make herself seem smaller. They were afraid, but not panicked, which was good even as it was frustrating. She reminded herself that they’d never seen a living dragon and their fear was natural. Dharan had refused to provide her with human stories of dragons, saying only, “You don’t need to be hurt by human stupidity and ignorance, and most of these stories exist specifically to frighten humans in a safe way.”

  “You mean tales of horror,” Lamprophyre had said. “We have those too, but none of them feature real creatures. Why would anyone want to confuse people by lying about real creatures?”

  “We thought you were imaginary,” Dharan had said, “but that doesn’t change how maligned your people are in our writing. Hearing about it will only make you sad and angry.”

  Now Lamprophyre wondered if Dharan had been correct. Not in his assertion; he was smart enough to know what he was talking about. But maybe Lamprophyre should endure a little pain and anger if it meant understanding exactly what humans feared dragons might do to them, so she could counter those misunderstandings directly.

  She watched Rokshan run toward a couple of tiny buildings and talk to a human who emerged from one of them. They were at the limits of her mental perception, and she didn’t want to eavesdrop on Rokshan anyway, so she sat and waited impatiently until Rokshan ran back toward her and pulled himself up. “That’s going to give them stories to tell their grandchildren, the dragon who carries a human,” he said. “We’re going east.”

  “Did that human know where our rock sniffer is?”

  Rokshan laughed. “Mendesk is famous in these parts. Some people respect him because he’s successful. Others hate him because he’s abrasive and arrogant. All of them wish they had his luck. His claim is east of here, and I hope it’s easy to find from the air because the mine foreman’s directions were hazy. I gathered Mendesk would like its location to be a secret, but of course the government knows where it is.”

  “Why is that?”

  Rokshan stretched out along her neck. “Stay close to the ground if you can. All of this is Gonjirian territory, which means the king owns it. But the government can only exploit so much—it doesn’t have the resources to mine the whole hills. So private citizens are allowed to stake a claim, to take charge of a certain area, and pay the treasury for the right to do so.”

  “I see. So the king’s government still makes money and doesn’t have to put in the work.”

  “Precisely. Plus, the miners have to pay a small fee for anything they find, in case someone strikes it rich. The government wants to benefit from that, too.”

  “I’m a little disturbed that this all makes sense to me, given that dragons don’t do it that way at all.”

  “You’re starting to understand the human mind. Turn left. Just a little.”

  Lamprophyre turned left. She saw no signs of human presence on the hills, though she did see furtive movement that might indicate small prey animals. She cast her gaze southward— “There,” she said, pointing. “I don’t know if that’s Mendesk, but it’s a mine.” A hole big enough to fit a dragon was carved into the nearly vertical face of the hills, almost perfectly round.

  “It’s in the right area, and the mine foreman told me Mendesk’s claim isn’t near anyone else’s. Or, more accurately, he claimed the land surrounding the part he’s actually working so no one could get close enough to poach. He’s got to be successful if he can afford that.” Rokshan leaned out far enough Lamprophyre worried he might slip. “I don’t see any movement.”

  “Then I guess we have to wait for him,” Lamprophyre said. She checked the position of the sun. “I hope he doesn’t take long.”

  “I can go in after him.”

  “If he’s as paranoid as we’re told, isn’t it likely he’d attack you for trespassing?” She set down a dozen dragonlengths from the mine entrance and crouched to let Rokshan off.

  “Good point,” Rokshan said. “Let’s find a place to wait.”

  Now that they were on the ground, Lamprophyre could make out human made structures: a couple of low, sloping buildings made of canopy canvas, but dull green that looked like a blotch against the red ground, and a taller structure also covered in tan canvas that was open on three sides. Beneath that structure lay wooden tables covered with items she didn’t recognize and a wooden bucket that even from this distance smelled sweetly of water.

  “We probably shouldn’t invade his camp,” Rokshan said. He lagged behind Lamprophyre as if putting his words into action.

  “We’re not invading, we’re visitors,” Lamprophyre said. “And it’s not like we’re going to touch anything. I’m just curious about how humans extract stone. It’s so different from the dragon way.”

  “How would you mine sapphire?”

  Lamprophyre sniffed the water bucket. It roused her thirst after the long flight. “Dig a couple of tunnels. One main tunnel, and one or two more to provide air. Generally it takes ten or twelve dragons to dig a new seam, because it’s boring work and we like to keep each other company. Then we sniff out the location of the stone. Usually it’s rubies as well as sapphires.”

  Rokshan walked past her in the direction of the mine entrance. “Interesting. Is that—”

  A brilliant flash of golden light erupted from the entrance, followed by a thunderclap that made Lamprophyre’s ears ring. The ground shook, knocking her off balance so she dropped to one knee. And Rokshan flew backward as if punched by an invisible fist.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Rokshan!” Lamprophyre screamed. She pushed herself to her feet and loped across the ground to where he lay. His eyes were open, and he gasped for air. Lamprophyre got her arm around his shoulders and helped him sit. “Are you hurt?”

  Rokshan waved his hands at her and shook his head. “Got…the wind…knocked out…of me,” he gasped. Then his eyes widened, and he grabbed Lamprophyre’s arm. “Wa
tch out!”

  Lamprophyre turned to face the mine entrance just as another explosion rocked her backward with its force. Her nictitating membranes closed, not quite fast enough, and spots of light pulsed in front of her eyes, obscuring the figure that ran toward her. She snarled and let go of Rokshan. Shoving off the ground with her powerful legs, she shot toward the figure, gliding low and fast along the ground.

  The human raised a glittering chunk of pyrite to the level of her throat, a bizarre gesture that struck Lamprophyre as ominous. She hit the human’s midsection, bowling her over and making her lose her grip on the pyrite, which bounced away. With another snarl, she pressed the dull edge of her claw against the human’s throat. “Don’t move,” she said. “How dare you attack us?”

  “You invaded my camp,” the human replied, her—no, now that the bright flashes were fading, Lamprophyre could see the human had scruffy dark hair growing over his chin and cheeks—his voice surprisingly strong for someone with death poised to tear out his throat.

  “Even so…” Lamprophyre realized the male had a point. “Are you Mendesk? We just want to talk.”

  “I got no reason to talk with you trespassers.”

  It struck Lamprophyre that Mendesk wasn’t at all afraid of her; his thoughts were furious at having his privacy invaded by strangers, but being held captive by a dragon didn’t disturb him in the least. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” she asked, removing her claw from his throat.

  “Death comes as it does,” Mendesk said, pushing himself to a sitting position. “No sense fearing it, whatever form it wears.”

  “Yes, but most humans are afraid of me when I don’t threaten them. You don’t even seem surprised.”

  Mendesk stood and brushed red dust from his already filthy trousers. “I get a prophecy every time I leave for the field,” he said. “Last one said dragons were in my future. The ecclesiast thought it was symbolic of something, but I knew better.”

  “So you knew something was coming,” Rokshan said. He, too, was covered with rock dust, and Lamprophyre gently brushed off the back of his head. “We’re sorry we, um, invaded you.”

  Lamprophyre picked up the lump of pyrite, which felt unnaturally warm and smelled like an orange. “This is magic,” she said.

  “Give it back,” Mendesk said, his voice going hard and cold.

  Lamprophyre didn’t move. “Not if you’re going to use it on us again.”

  Mendesk held out his hand. “You want to talk? I don’t talk without you give that back. I don’t know but that you intend to kill me and take my claim.”

  “We wouldn’t do that.”

  Mendesk glared at her, his hand unwavering. Lamprophyre hesitated only a beat longer, then put the pyrite into the male’s hand. He tucked it away into a pouch hanging from his belt. “Say what you want, then get out of here.”

  Lamprophyre glanced at Rokshan. Rokshan stepped forward and spread his hands wide, indicating he wasn’t a threat. “We’re interested in a sapphire you mined a few months back. Specifically, we want to speak to the buyer. We were told by gem buyers in Tanajital that you’re the only supplier of sapphire in Gonjiri, and that the stone we’re interested in had to have come from you.”

  Mendesk’s posture became aggressive once more. “You think I’m the sort who sells his customers’ secrets? Think again, plusher.”

  Lamprophyre listened to the male’s thoughts and heard only I’m going to die here, see if I don’t. She’d hoped to take the knowledge of the buyer from Mendesk’s mind. “We know you are very private,” she said, “and guessed that might extend to keeping your customers’ information private too. But this is a very serious matter. Something more important than concealing that buyer’s name.”

  Mendesk’s lip curled. “Important to you. Not important to me. I’d never do business again if it got out I blabbed.”

  “We’re not interested in telling people about your involvement, and we won’t let the buyer know you told us,” Rokshan said. “But that person used the sapphire to make a weapon, and we intend to bring him or her to justice. We will find that buyer, sirrah, with or without your help. It would just be easier and faster if we had your assistance.”

  “None of my business what my buyers do with my stones,” Mendesk said. His voice was strong and certain, but Lamprophyre heard him think should have known not to trust that man, had weasel written all over him, no surprise he wanted a weapon.

  “Of course not,” Rokshan said. “But we were hoping you would care enough about your profession not to want your wares used for evil.”

  Mendesk chewed on his lower lip briefly. “What weapon?”

  Rokshan glanced at Lamprophyre, his eyes wide, and she took the hint. He was thinking dare we tell him?

  “It drives people mad,” she said. There was no way to completely conceal the existence of the weapon, and this man was unlikely to reveal to his clients that such an effect was possible. She could hear his thoughts becoming more uncertain, and hoped being honest with him—a little honest, anyway—might push him over the edge.

  “Impossible,” Mendesk said. “You’re lying.”

  “You know I’m not,” Lamprophyre said. “It’s a terrible weapon, and we want its creator stopped before he makes any more of them.”

  Terrible indecision gripped Mendesk. “Of course, there is the other possibility,” Lamprophyre continued. “Everyone knows you’re the only local supplier of sapphires, so if knowledge of this weapon becomes public, everyone will also know you were the source of the stone. And I imagine there are people who will want to hold you responsible.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Mendesk said.

  “Humans aren’t always rational. I know that from personal experience.” Lamprophyre took half a step forward. “If we find this person, we’ll stop him before his crimes become public knowledge, and you won’t have to be involved at all.”

  Mendesk drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “His name is Abhimot,” he said. “Lives in Tanajital. Tall fellow with one glass eye. I don’t know more than that.”

  “Thank you,” Lamprophyre said.

  “That’s more than enough. We appreciate your help,” Rokshan said. “And we won’t let anyone know you were involved in any way.”

  Mendesk nodded. “Now get out of here. I got work to do.”

  Rokshan nodded and climbed up Lamprophyre’s shoulder to the notch.

  “Wait,” Mendesk said. “Do you know what ‘the skies will burn’ means?”

  “Why do you ask?” Rokshan said.

  Mendesk shrugged. “It was part of the prophecy that said I’d see a dragon.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything to me. Lamprophyre?”

  “Not to me either,” Lamprophyre said. She hoped it didn’t mean what she feared, that the dragons would go to war against Gonjiri. But that was just a fear, nothing she felt confident about telling this male. She waved at Mendesk, whose mouth fell open, and leaped into the sky.

  They flew in silence for a while, until Lamprophyre said, “So our wand maker is Gonjirian.”

  “Seems like it. Though I’m not jumping to conclusions just yet. He may be innocent of anything but coincidence. Even so, it does look like we’re looking for a Gonjirian plot.”

  “Can you find this Abhimot with just a name and a description?”

  “Of course,” Rokshan said. “Though I’m reluctant to face him on my own. What if he has an artifact like that chunk of gold?”

  “That was pyrite, not gold.”

  “I’m not sure my body cares about the difference, except that I’m guessing gold does something different than knock me on my ass. I wonder if it’s what powers the Army’s new weapon?”

  “You said you weren’t hurt!”

  “I’m not, just sore.” Rokshan shifted as if he were rubbing his thigh. “I suppose I could take a squad of guards, but we’re trying to keep this secret and I’m not sure what I’d tell them about why we have to apprehend this man.”

&nbs
p; “If you can get him out in the open—”

  “That would be ideal, but we shouldn’t count on it.” Rokshan sighed. “Are you hungry?”

  “I’m not. It’s earlier than I anticipated, so I think I’ll just eat at the embassy. I can roast that cow myself.”

  “I’d rather eat at the palace than find a place where you won’t terrify everyone. Sorry.”

  “It’s all right. I’m used to it.” She still didn’t like knowing how afraid humans were of her, but she no longer took it personally. To them, she was like a terrifying storm, or a flood, or some other natural disaster that was dangerous simply by its existence, and while that was annoying, at least very few of them believed she was evil.

  They didn’t talk much the rest of the way to Tanajital. Lamprophyre felt the weariness that accompanied not having made many long flights recently; her wings ached, and the long muscles of her flanks felt tight. She would sleep well that night.

  It was sunset when they arrived back at the embassy. Someone had lit the lanterns flanking the entrance and on the pillars of the dining pavilion. It warmed Lamprophyre’s heart that someone had given consideration to her needs, even if it was likely a servant who was paid to do so. She let Rokshan off and said, “Dharan says tomorrow is a rest day, so there’s no reading lesson. Should we wait until the following day to track down Abhimot?”

  “No, I can at least find out where he lives,” Rokshan said, “and we can make a plan from there. I’ll see you tomorrow sometime.” He waved and disappeared down the street.

  Lamprophyre watched until he was gone, then entered the dining pavilion. It was empty and dark despite the lanterns burning outside, but the cow was still there, half hanging from a hook attached to the ceiling, half lying in the shallow trough she’d learned was intended for that purpose. It didn’t smell quite as fresh as it had earlier, but she wasn’t picky.