Spark the Fire

by Melissa McShane

  It didn’t matter to her. He was still her dearest friend, and he was alive, and they would stop this war.

  Rokshan ran his hand through his hair, vainly trying to smooth it. “So what happened?” he said. “The last thing I remember is you picking me up and wrapping me in your wing, and the worst pain of my life. Anchala told me the Army was marching on dragon territory because they believed you were the one who burned me. Harshod did it, didn’t he? He started a war with us as proxies.”

  “He did. It was a Fanishkorite plot all along, Rokshan, Harshod confessed. You have to tell your father the truth so he’ll stop the Army before the dragons attack it.”

  “If he’ll listen to me.”

  Lamprophyre grabbed Rokshan’s shoulder and shook him, then released him when he winced. “This is no time to feel insecure! You have to convince him. Dragons and humans will die if you don’t.”

  Rokshan nodded. “You’re right. Can you—”

  With an earsplitting crack, the doors flew open, followed by a handful of soldiers carrying the bole of a giant, limbless tree banded with iron. They stumbled as if they hadn’t expected the door to give way so abruptly. More soldiers poured through the gap and converged on Lamprophyre, swords drawn, faces set with terror. They thrust and swung at Lamprophyre’s flanks and tail with great blows that rebounded back at them.

  “Stop it!” Lamprophyre said. “You can’t hurt me with—hey! You’re wasting your time! Stop!”

  “Stand down,” Rokshan shouted. “I said stand down!” He raced down the rest of the stairs to where the soldiers could see him clearly. “God’s breath, stand down immediately or you’ll all face trial!”

  The nearest soldiers stepped back, lowering their weapons. Another voice, one Lamprophyre didn’t recognize, joined Rokshan’s, shouting more orders for the soldiers to stop attacking. That male, who was dressed in a uniform similar to General Sajan’s but without all the markings, pushed forward through the soldiers and saluted Rokshan. “You’re alive, sir,” he said. “What happened?”

  “Lamprophyre and I were attacked by a Fanishkorite spy intent on starting a war between Gonjiri and the dragons,” Rokshan said, pitching his voice to go past the broken doors. “He made it look as if Lamprophyre had burned me, but it was a hoax. She’s our ally. Captain Garim, take your men to the garrison and prepare to defend Tanajital.”

  “Defend from what, sir?” Captain Garim said.

  “If the worst comes, from dragons,” Rokshan said.

  Captain Garim eyed Lamprophyre, turned his attention briefly on his soldiers, whose swords showed signs of being battered, and said, “Are you sure, sir?”

  “It’s a precaution only. I’m confident it won’t come to that. But imagine if I’m wrong and we’re not prepared.” Rokshan saluted Captain Garim, who after a slight hesitation returned the salute. He called out orders, and the soldiers picked up their iron-bound tree and retreated from the palace.

  “You know they can’t defend against dragons, especially if the border troops have all the giant pyrite artifacts,” Lamprophyre said in a low voice.

  “Giant what?”

  “Anchala told me. The Army has pyrite artifacts that might be big enough to hurt or kill a dragon.”

  Rokshan swore under his breath. “That might make it impossible to convince the dragons we don’t mean them harm,” he said. “Wait here. I’ll—”

  “Rokshan!”

  Lamprophyre’s heart sank. Ekanath. He was angry and afraid and relieved all at once, which puzzled Lamprophyre—why relieved?

  Rokshan turned to face his father, who stood at the top of the right-hand stairs with both Anchala and Manishi standing behind him. Lamprophyre listened to Rokshan’s thoughts; he has to listen and never good enough for him were at the top of his awareness, and Lamprophyre’s heart felt even lower. If there were ever a time for Rokshan to stand up to his father, it was now.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Ekanath’s attention went from Rokshan to Lamprophyre. “What is that beast doing here?” he roared. “Come to finish the rest of us off?”

  “I am not,” Lamprophyre began indignantly, but Rokshan waved her to silence.

  “She’s not a beast, Father,” he said. “She saved my life. We were attacked by a Fanishkorite spy intent on starting a war that will weaken Gonjiri so Fanishkor can attack.”

  Lamprophyre was impressed. She’d thought explaining the situation would be much more complex. Ekanath, his mouth open for another roar, jerked backward and closed his mouth. “Impossible,” he finally said. “The attack on you proves what we’ve seen—that dragons want the human threat to their lands eliminated.”

  “They don’t. Why would you believe that?”

  “They only allow us in their territory on sufferance. They keep us isolated in tiny settlements. They’re afraid we’ll encroach on their mountains and take their gems and silver. Attacking you sent the strong message that the rest of us are next.”

  Rokshan shook his head. “Father, none of that is true. I would wager anything you like that most of that information was spread by Fanishkorite agents. Lamprophyre, tell Father why you were sent to Tanajital. The truth.”

  Lamprophyre eyed him warily. She didn’t think the truth was very reassuring. But she trusted Rokshan to know what he was doing. “Some humans stole a dragon egg,” she said. “Hyaloclast sent me to find out who, so we can retaliate and prevent anyone from trying that again. We aren’t afraid of humans at all. We just want to decide where humans can go in our lands, the same as you would do if dragons wanted to settle in Gonjiri. I don’t believe we’re confining humans in settlements, because you’re people and that would mean treating you like animals. And if you want our stone, I’m sure we can make arrangements. I’ve already done that for myself.”

  She took a deep breath. “Your majesty, humans and dragons used to live together in harmony,” she said. “There’s no reason we can’t do that again. We have so much to offer each other, and I wish you’d see that. I wish Hyaloclast would see it, too.”

  Ekanath stared at her in silence. Then he transferred his gaze to Rokshan. “You were burned by dragon fire,” he finally said.

  “No, your majesty, it was an artifact,” Lamprophyre said. “A red stone called erythronite. It makes fire, very powerful fire—or maybe it’s just that the crystal was large that the fire is so powerful. I don’t know. But that’s what burned Rokshan, not me, and it’s probably what destroyed that village.”

  “I see no red stone,” Ekanath said.

  Now Lamprophyre felt stupid for not tracking down Harshod’s companions. “The attackers took it with them—”

  “You let them escape?”

  “No—I was injured, and I was worried about Rokshan—”

  “Stop badgering her,” Rokshan said. “Father, she’s telling the truth. Harshod—the Fanishkorite—set me on fire, and Lamprophyre extinguished it.”

  “Not soon enough,” Ekanath said, in a voice that cut Lamprophyre to the heart.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” she said. “Harshod attacked me, too.” She decided not to give any more details about that attack. Ekanath wasn’t her friend, and she had no intention of revealing her weakness to a potential enemy.

  “Lamprophyre and I have been trying to find this enemy ever since Lamprophyre came to Tanajital,” Rokshan continued. “Harshod started by trying to anger the dragons so they’d attack us, and when that failed, he made you believe dragons are our enemy so you’d send the Army after them. Which you did.”

  “You dare criticize my decision?” Ekanath said. “No one attacks the royal family with impunity.”

  “Which is what he was counting on,” Rokshan said. “Father, all of this has been a plot, playing on our fear of dragons. Fanishkor will attack us when we’re weakened from fighting the dragons, and Tanajital really will burn. You have to send word to the Army to retreat. It might not be too late.”

  “We can’t retreat,” Ekanath said. “Th
at will make us look vulnerable. The dragons will attack.”

  “Lamprophyre and I can stop them,” Rokshan said. “But only if the Army doesn’t attack first. Please, Father. I know you don’t think much of me, but I swear this is the only way to keep our country safe.”

  Ekanath’s eyes narrowed in the expression Lamprophyre was coming to understand meant deep thought, as it was always accompanied by a narrowing of mental focus. “You disappointed me,” he said. “You had a responsibility to this family, a responsibility to serve Gonjiri the way a prince should serve, and you turned your back on it. Sending you to the Army meant making the best of a bad situation. No one was more surprised than I when it turned out you had a gift for command.”

  The scars on Rokshan’s face stood out more sharply for a moment. “Meaning even your useless son was able to make good?”

  “God’s breath, Rokshan, stop putting words in my mouth!” Ekanath shouted. “You were never useless, and that’s why it broke my heart to see you wasting your life, mocking the duties I wanted you to take on. Ruling Gonjiri means responsibility, not reward, and if you could only learn that by joining the Army, well, at least you learned it. Sajan tells me he’s never had a better commander, and you’re only twenty-five. And then you want to throw it all away to fly around with this creature who isn’t even human? Tell me why I should be proud of you for that!”

  Lamprophyre stifled the urge to shout at the king. Rokshan was immobile, his face set with anger. “I made an alliance with creatures of legend,” he said. “I discovered a plot against this country. Against you. I’ve learned things no human has known for centuries. How dare you dismiss that as ‘flying around’?” He turned his head away briefly, controlling a louder outburst. “We have an opportunity to make this kingdom stronger. You were the one who asked for a prophecy about what we should do about Fanishkor, and the ecclesiasts told you to settle northward. That prophecy wanted us to meet the dragons. Can’t you see that they are the solution? Dragon allies would make even an enemy stronger than Fanishkor hesitate before attacking us.”

  Lamprophyre had almost forgotten why humans were all over dragon territory. Put that way, if you believed in human religion, Rokshan’s words made obvious sense. It was just as obvious from Ekanath’s thoughts that he’d never considered the situation in those terms before. It was tempting to think him stupid, but Lamprophyre knew how easy it was to be so focused on a problem you missed the right solution. Hadn’t she thought of herself as inferior to Coquina before Rokshan had pointed out everything she’d done to beat her?

  Ekanath came down the steps and crossed the floor to Rokshan. “They don’t care about us,” he said. “What do we have to offer them?”

  “Friendship,” Rokshan said. “Knowledge. Magical artifacts—they don’t use stone for that. Let me and Lamprophyre work that out. But you—call off the Army. Please.”

  Ekanath nodded slowly. “I’m taking a tremendous chance,” he said. “If the Army is attacked, it will be helpless.”

  “We won’t let that happen.”

  Ekanath’s eyes narrowed again. “You know,” he said. “I believe you won’t.” He gripped Rokshan’s shoulder. “Let’s stop this war. And then I think you and I should talk.”

  “I look forward to it,” Rokshan said. Lamprophyre, eavesdropping again because she couldn’t help herself, discovered he was telling the truth.

  Ekanath withdrew a blue chalcedony pendant a little smaller than Harshod’s from within his shirt. He held it to his lips and let out a puff of breath that misted its smooth surface as if it were obsidian. “General Jossit,” he said, “new orders. The Army is to return across the border. Cancel the attack.”

  There was a pause in which Lamprophyre held her breath, afraid of even that small disturbance ruining the communication. Then an unfamiliar male, his voice as clear as if he were standing next to them, said, “Your majesty? Please confirm those orders.”

  “Confirmed. The Army is to stand down. Prince Rokshan’s attacker was not a dragon, but a Fanishkorite agent intent on starting a war. Return before the dragons take issue with our invasion.”

  “Understood. I will communicate with you when we’ve crossed the border.” The mist disappeared.

  Lamprophyre wished she had some way to hear that male, General Jossit’s, thoughts just then. He’d sounded perfectly calm, as if these new orders weren’t extraordinary, but she was sure he had all manner of questions he wanted to ask. She should ask Rokshan if not asking questions when you desperately wanted to was part of being a soldier, or a general, or was just General Jossit himself.

  “We have to go,” Rokshan told her, and Lamprophyre broke out of her reverie and stretched her wings out. “Thank you, Father.”

  “Thank you, son,” Ekanath said. “Good fortune to you.”

  “Wait,” Manishi said, hurrying down the stairs. “Give me that pendant—no, both of them.” She took Harshod’s chalcedony pendant from Lamprophyre and swiftly removed the king’s from around his neck, making him protest. Manishi ignored him. She held both stones together in her left hand and raised that closed fist high. Light flared around her fingers like dancing blue fire, tiny little flickering flames that outlined her fingers. The bitter smell intensified for a beat, then faded. Manishi opened her hand. Now Harshod’s larger stone, which had been a light gray, was the same blue as the king’s.

  “They’re attuned to each other,” Manishi said. “You saw how Father activated it, Rokshan. Breathe on it, and your words will carry through the stone to this one.” She handed back each stone.

  Rokshan settled his around his neck. “I’ll let you know what happens,” he said. “Hurry, Lamprophyre.”

  Lamprophyre turned carefully, not wanting to end their fragile accord by trampling the king, and squeezed past the doors, one of which hung awkwardly by its upper hinge. Once outside, she crouched to let Rokshan climb up. He moved smoothly, with no sign that his scars pained him. “You know what we have to do,” she said.

  “The dragons may already know the Army is there,” Rokshan said. “We have to convince Hyaloclast not to attack.”

  “And hope it’s not too late,” Lamprophyre said.

  Chapter Forty

  The late afternoon sun slanted across Lamprophyre’s left side as she winged northward. Another storm was coming, one that blackened the northeastern skies and made the hot, wet air smell of lightning. That storm could be good news for them, since Hyaloclast wouldn’t let the dragons fly through it. Or, if it came on too quickly, it could be bad news, forcing Lamprophyre to land and wait it out while the dragons came ever nearer to attacking the Army. She chose to see it as an ally.

  As she flew, she told Rokshan what had happened between Harshod’s attack and the events in the palace. She wanted to tell the story quickly, but Rokshan kept interrupting her for details she’d left out.

  “You threw away the sapphire?” he said. “Was that smart?”

  “If it was a weapon against dragons, especially if it was what nearly killed me, it’s too dangerous to let anyone have it,” she said. “I don’t know that I trust any adept to not use it against us dragons.”

  Rokshan brushed his fingers across the sensitive spot, sending a tingle through her. “This is quite a weakness,” he said. “I’m surprised no one’s ever discovered it before.”

  “It’s in a relatively protected spot on my body, and it’s not as if dragons go around deliberately hitting each other trying to find weaknesses. Maybe people used to know about it, back when dragons and humans lived closer together. But I think it’s mostly a weakness in combination with whatever that sapphire did. Harshod thought the stone had killed me.”

  “I’m glad it didn’t kill you. Though it does raise the question of how Harshod knew about this weak spot. How he knew we were looking for him, for that matter.”

  “And how he knew what to ask Abhimot to make. He knew far too much about exactly what he needed to start a war. I’m glad he died.” Lamprophyre banked
right and craned her neck. “Though I wish his companions hadn’t escaped with the rest of his artifacts.”

  “Lamprophyre.” Rokshan’s voice was quiet. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She swallowed to moisten her suddenly dry throat. “I did what Hyaloclast wanted.”

  “And killed a human. That can’t leave you untouched.”

  “No. But when I start to feel awful at the memory of taking a life, I remind myself of how many people he hurt, directly or indirectly. I should never have agreed to let him go, and I’m glad I didn’t have to. Especially since he hurt you so badly. It would have felt like a betrayal of you.”

  “I feel fine. The scarring is an odd sensation. Like my skin is made of thin leather.”

  Lamprophyre risked a peek at his thoughts and felt as if her heart would break. “You don’t have to be stoic with me,” she said. “This is a major change, isn’t it?”

  Rokshan sighed. “I’m afraid to look at myself. I can feel the burns are everywhere, though mostly on my chest and shoulders. I never realized how vain I was—Lamprophyre, I don’t know if I can bear this.”

  “You’re still you,” Lamprophyre said. “No one who cares about you will mind your scars. Or are you afraid you won’t be able to attract a mate?”

  A short, curt laugh burst out of him. “Yes, that had occurred to me. Though I suppose a prince is still a good catch, even a damaged one. As if I didn’t already have worries enough on that score.”

  “I thought, from what you and Dharan said, you weren’t ready to be pair-bonded. Married.”