Spark the Fire

by Melissa McShane

“My friend and I are searching for sailors who came here about a…a month ago,” Lamprophyre said, reaching for the word Rokshan had used. “They had a boat with a big burn mark on its right side. I don’t suppose you saw it?”

  That boat, the female thought, and said, “Can’t say as I recall.”

  Lamprophyre remembered what Rokshan had said about paying the sapphire merchants to be more forthcoming and wished he hadn’t left with the coin pouch. Though he might need it to convince whoever he was talking to, so maybe it was just as well. Now, how should she push? “It was full of sailors,” she said, “and one of them had black hair on his face, very thick and long.”

  The image of the bandit captain rose up within the female’s thoughts. “Lots of men grow beards,” she said. “Could be anyone.”

  “I suppose, but this was a specific person. He had a head injury.”

  The female’s thoughts were coming more quickly now, mostly images of the charred boat and the bandit captain and a building Lamprophyre had never seen before. It looked like a Kolmiran building, with dark roof and walls, but there was nothing to say where in Kolmira it was. “Doesn’t sound familiar,” the female said.

  “I see,” Lamprophyre said. “Well, that’s all right. We’ll ask someone else. Thank you for your time.”

  The female stared at her, her head cocked to look Lamprophyre in the eye. “You’re polite,” she said. “Thought you’d burn the city.”

  “Really? Why would I do that?” Polite, she could hang on to polite.

  “’S what dragons do, yes? Burn things?”

  “Not really,” Lamprophyre said. “Just because we can doesn’t mean we will. You could…” Her eye fell on the blade sheathed at the female’s left hip. “You could kill everyone you meet with that weapon, but you don’t, do you? You use it to defend yourself.”

  The female’s eyes widened. “I—” she said, then fell silent.

  “I don’t know why you humans assume dragons are interested in hurting you and destroying your cities,” Lamprophyre said, pitching her voice so the humans watching this interchange could hear. “My friend Dharan won’t let me read the stories you tell because he says they will just upset me. But if those stories say dragons are evil monsters, they’re not true. And I think you should want to know the truth rather than believing lies.”

  She saw Rokshan emerge from the building, followed by a short, plump male with no hair on his head and black hair covering his face as if compensating. “This is my friend Rokshan. I let him ride on my shoulders when I fly. You can ask him if he feels at all frightened by me.”

  Rokshan watched her curiously as he approached. “Should I be worried about this crowd?” he murmured.

  “No,” Lamprophyre said, listening to their thoughts. They were still afraid, but more of them were curious, and a few actually felt ashamed.

  “Well, this is Alok, and he asked to meet you.” Rokshan’s eyes widened in the signal Lamprophyre was now used to. She listened, and heard Rokshan think He doesn’t know anything, but good will is good will. Alok’s thoughts were more jumbled, but she clearly heard dragon, dragon, dragon and like the legends but God’s breath she’s blue.

  “Hello, Alok,” she said. Alok’s thoughts grew even less coherent with excitement, making her smile. “Are you the dock master?”

  “His assistant,” Alok said. “Never thought I’d meet a real dragon. And he’s allowed to ride?” He nodded at Rokshan.

  “He is.” She could hear Alok working up to ask if he could ride as well, and cut off that embarrassing line of conversation with, “He’s the only human I will allow to ride on my shoulders. Otherwise it’s uncomfortable.”

  Alok’s disappointment didn’t make it into his speech. “That must be magnificent. Always thought those were the glory days, humans and dragons together.”

  “What glory days?” the female said. Lamprophyre hadn’t noticed her still standing there.

  “Don’t know your history?” Alok scoffed. “Back before the catastrophe, humans and dragons lived together. Humans riding dragons, dragons teaching humans. My nan told me the old stories, but I never thought I’d see those days come again.”

  The female eyed him closely, her lips pursed as if in thought. “Never heard of that,” she said, but her thoughts were more curious than dismissive.

  “We have to be on our way, but thank you, Alok,” Rokshan said, extending a hand. Alok took it, his eyes never leaving Lamprophyre. “We’ll ask at the southern docks.”

  “Good luck finding those bastards,” Alok said.

  The female’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Wonder why they want Harshod’s stooge? she thought.

  Lamprophyre’s heart leaped.

  She contained her impatience long enough for Rokshan to climb up and for the two of them to rise high above Kolmira. “That female,” she said.

  “Which one?”

  “The one standing next to me. She knew the bandits, and she recognized their leader. And she knows he’s got something to do with Harshod! Though I don’t know what a stooge is.”

  “It’s someone who works for someone else, usually doing unpleasant or thankless work. You got more than I did. Though I got the feeling from talking to Alok and his superior that they don’t know about bandit activity because they don’t want to. So they deliberately avoid noticing the less than legal business that passes through here. Did she know where the bandit’s leader lives?”

  “I don’t know. She kept thinking about a particular building in connection with him, but it might just be a place he goes to often. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell where the building was, except that I think it was Kolmiran. I guess we could sweep the city. I’d know it when I saw it.”

  “Or we could take a more direct route,” Rokshan said. “But you might want to conceal yourself.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ll wager anything you like that that woman is going straight to that man, or to Harshod himself, to tell him strangers are asking after him.”

  Lamprophyre craned her neck. “That’s really clever.”

  “We’d better hurry, though, if we don’t want to lose her.” Rokshan leaned out. “We’re too high for me to see her.”

  “I’m not. But I can’t conceal you.”

  “I doubt anyone will look up and notice me, but you stand out.”

  Lamprophyre nodded. She scanned the streets below, looking for the woman, but despite her words to Rokshan, the streets were nothing but rivers of people, flowing in all directions. She cast an eye on the stormy sky, concentrated, and smoky gray spread across her scales, mottled to match the clouds. “Stay well behind my neck, if you can,” she told Rokshan, and dropped.

  She started from the dock master’s house and followed the main streets, looking for her prey. It took a few beats to find her, swimming upstream against the current of bodies filling one of the narrower streets. Her hair, lighter than most of those around her and waving in the breeze the storm had kicked up, drew Lamprophyre like a beacon. Having identified her, Lamprophyre rose higher and made several spirals so as not to outpace her. “I think I see where she’s going,” she said. “At least, I recognize the building. Should we get there ahead of her?”

  “Which one is it?”

  “The one with the round, short tower on one side.”

  “I see it.” Rokshan leaned out again, then pulled back as if he’d just remembered she was concealed. “I don’t dare go in there alone, and you won’t fit. I think we need to wait for her to give her warning so our prey will flee, and then we can grab him.”

  “All right. But I can’t keep up this concealment for much longer.”

  Rokshan leaned forward and pointed. “Why don’t you land on that building there? The tall one? It’s near enough to our target we’ll see if anyone bolts.”

  Lamprophyre nodded and descended. The building Rokshan had chosen had a steeply sloped roof like the embassy, but with a wider ridge beam. She settled lightly onto it, digging i
n her toe claws for stability, and let her concealment fall. No one looked up, no one screamed, and she relaxed.

  Shortly afterward, the female walked up to the door of the building Lamprophyre had seen and let herself in. “Interesting,” Rokshan said. “So either it’s a public place, or she’s closer to the bandits than we thought.”

  They waited. Rokshan’s shoes dug uncomfortably into Lamprophyre’s side, but she was afraid to ask him to shift for fear he’d fall off. Neither of them spoke; Lamprophyre didn’t have anything to say, and she was preoccupied with listening to the thoughts of the humans in the building. They were close enough, but there were many humans and their thoughts faded into a mingled hum from which random fragments emerged, none distinguishable as belonging to a particular person.

  After about three hundred beats, the door opened, and the female emerged. Lamprophyre opened her mind to its fullest, and heard her think should’ve gotten paid for that news, not sure where he went.

  She spread her wings and took off, startling Rokshan, who grabbed hold of her ruff for security. “Where are we going? He’s still in there.”

  “I don’t think he is. I need to stay close enough to hear that female’s thoughts.” She concealed herself again and glided along, hovering barely a dragonlength above the female’s head. More thoughts drifted to her mind: why a dragon and dare attack such a creature, balls of solid brass and maybe better he’s gone but God’s breath do I need the money.

  “We’re going to talk to her again,” Lamprophyre said, dropping her concealment and swooping low. It took only a few beats for the humans filling the street to notice her and panic. Lamprophyre kept her attention on the female, who alone hadn’t tried to flee, but had drawn her blade and stood holding it defensively in front of her. She landed in front of the female and spread her wings. This time, looking big could help.

  “I know you know who Harshod is,” she said, speaking loudly, though the din of the panicked humans had grown distant as they fled. “We want to speak with him.”

  The female shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Rokshan jumped down. “You went to warn him, or his flunky, but he was gone,” he said. “Where?”

  The female didn’t move. Lamprophyre said, “We can make it worth your while.”

  She heard the female think more money, could use a few rupyas. “Rokshan, a few rupyas?” she said, hoping he’d go along with the half-formed plan she’d come up with.

  Rokshan dug in his pouch and came up with some silver coins he handed to the female, who took them with one hand while the other kept the blade raised high. He glanced at Lamprophyre with that wide-eyed look, and she heard go ahead, hope you know what you’re doing. So did she.

  “You wanted to sell the information that we were asking around after Harshod, but he wasn’t there,” Lamprophyre said. “So now you’re going to sell information to us.”

  The woman’s thoughts became fearful, and Lamprophyre quickly said, “We won’t let anyone know about this conversation. We just want to know about Harshod. He did have a boat full of bandits that came here about a month ago, right?”

  The woman glanced at the rupyas in her hand. “He did,” she said. “The boat was scorched all down one side—was that you?”

  “Does he live in Kolmira?” Lamprophyre chose not to answer the female’s question.

  “Never saw him before three months ago. We all thought he came from Tanajital or Suwedhi to take over Kolmira’s crime. I don’t know what he did to piss you off, dragon, but it’s not like him. Or not like we thought he was, anyway.”

  Lamprophyre didn’t know what it meant to take over a city’s crime, but she said, “So you thought he was a criminal leader? He didn’t do anything else related to dragons?”

  “Not a thing. He’d leave for a few days, but he always came back. Guess he’s gone again now.”

  “And you have no idea where he went?” Rokshan said.

  The female shrugged. “His henchmen wouldn’t tell me. But you watch that building, and you’ll find him. He always comes back.”

  Rokshan nodded. He handed her a few more rupyas, making her eyes go wide. “That’s for you to forget we had this conversation.”

  “Sure. But I don’t think it will matter,” the female said. “Everyone saw the dragon land. If Harshod has something going about dragons, that will tip him off for sure.”

  “We’ll take that chance,” Lamprophyre said. “Thank you.”

  Rokshan hauled himself up, and Lamprophyre beat her wings until she was once more high above Kolmira. “Was that a stupid thing to do?” she asked. “Letting Harshod know we were there?”

  “I’ll have soldiers watching that house by tomorrow,” Rokshan said. “They’ll pick up Harshod before he’s warned.”

  “So we have to hope he doesn’t come back tonight.”

  “Try not to be so optimistic,” Rokshan said, but he sounded amused.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  They flew back to Tanajital in silence and landed on the training grounds outside the palace. Rokshan jumped down and said, “I’m going to change for the reception. I’ll see you here at sunset, yes?”

  “I don’t know if I can stand still for a reception when I’m worried about Harshod escaping,” Lamprophyre said.

  “I’ll send a detachment of soldiers immediately. We’ll catch him, Lamprophyre. Now try to enjoy the evening.” Rokshan waved and trotted away toward the low, dirt-colored buildings where the soldiers lived.

  When he was out of sight within the buildings, she took to the air and flew a couple of passes around the city. Flying calmed her, as did the lack of frightened thoughts, and she dared go downstream a ways to bathe before returning to the embassy. The air was muggy and still as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for the storm. Lamprophyre understood the weather well enough to know the storm wouldn’t reach Tanajital until nearly midnight, but she couldn’t help watching the skies and hoping she hadn’t made a mistake. An early storm would definitely ruin the reception.

  She took a short nap, waking when the last rays of the sun slanted through the embassy doorway. Sleeping and her bath had relaxed her further, and she felt she could face whatever the humans might bring to bear on her.

  Servants were lighting lanterns when she arrived at the park. The nearest ones glanced at her warily, but she heard nothing more fearful from them than one female thinking hope the dragon doesn’t wreck anything, big as a house, can’t possibly be graceful. It irritated Lamprophyre more because she was conscious of not being very agile on land, and she shared the servant’s worry.

  Keeping her wings furled close to her side, she made her way between the canopies, which Rokshan had instructed the servants to set out well spaced apart. The smell of human food, which included green things and the biting scent of cheese, tantalized her even though a dragon couldn’t digest most of it. She stuck her head beneath a canopy and was relieved to find Akarshan there, supervising the arrangement of tiny bits of food that were surely too small a bite even for humans. “Akarshan,” she said. “It smells wonderful.”

  “Thank you, my lady,” Akarshan said. “I admit this is the most unusual reception I have ever served.”

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  Akarshan gestured at the round metal sheets. “We do not normally display all the food at once,” he said, “but bringing it from the kitchens, it’s quite a distance. So the initial serving has been set up here, to save time.”

  Lamprophyre examined the metal sheets again. “You make it look so pretty, like flowers,” she said.

  “Thank you.” Akarshan twitched one of the tiny morsels into a more regular arrangement. “Do dragons drink wine? Spirits?”

  “I’ve heard of those things, but no. That is, we might, but we don’t make them ourselves.”

  Akarshan removed a bottle from a wooden stand and removed its top. He offered it to Lamprophyre. “Sniff this, my lady.”

  Lamprophyre sn
iffed. She’d smelled grapes before, and this smelled slightly of grapes, but even more of woody, resinous aromas that weren’t very pleasant. She refrained from making a face, though she didn’t think Akarshan would understand the expression, and said, “It’s not very nice, is it? Is that wine?”

  “It is, my lady. Alcohol is an acquired taste, and not one you should try to acquire at a public gathering. Though I imagine it would take a barrel of wine or more to get you drunk.” Akarshan poured dark red wine from the bottle into finely shaped glass cups. Lamprophyre looked at them in fascination. She was capable of making glass herself, but humans found the most intriguing shapes for it.

  She heard Rokshan approaching and withdrew from beneath the canopy. Rokshan wore a white shirt that made his brown skin look darker and white trousers that came to just below his knee. Over all that, he wore a robe of some dark blue fabric that shimmered when it caught the light and was stitched all over with designs in silver thread. It reminded her once more of Flint. She’d thought of him frequently in the last few days, hadn’t she? Maybe that meant something.

  “I should have a robe made that matches your colors,” Rokshan said. “It would look so dramatic.”

  “I agree. Are you nervous? I’m getting nervous again.”

  “Of course not. They’re just people, Lamprophyre, and they can’t hurt you.”

  “Not physically. But Khadar, for example, spread all those lies about me, and that’s a kind of hurt.”

  “True, but I promise you no one who comes tonight will try anything like that.” Rokshan gripped her hand briefly. “Just be straightforward and honest, and everything will be fine.”

  “Her Excellency the Lady Tanura, ambassador from Sachetan,” someone shouted. Lamprophyre tensed.

  “Perfect. Lady Tanura is nicer than most of the ambassadors. You’ll like her,” Rokshan said. “But let’s meet her away from the canopies, all right? Give yourself room to move.” He walked away in the direction of the unseen voice.

  Lamprophyre came out from between the brightly colored canopies to a spot where the trees grew sparsely. Rokshan joined her after a few beats, bringing with him an unusually dark human wearing clothes similar to his. If Lamprophyre had still been depending on hair length to tell male from female, she would have been confused, because this female wore her black hair cut very close to her scalp. But recent observation had taught Lamprophyre that human females’ chests bulged symmetrically in two places, and though those bulges varied in size, they were always distinct from males’ flat chests. It was a more reliable indicator of sex than hair length.