She must have fallen asleep at some point, because eventually she opened her eyes and it was day, and Anamika was standing beside her, saying, “Lamprophyre? Wake up. Didn’t you want to swim?”
Lamprophyre groaned and tried to sit, but she still ached too much for her muscles to respond. “I’m afraid I’m sick,” she said. “I’m sorry. We’ll have to swim another day.”
“I didn’t know dragons got sick. Should you have soup? Mam always makes soup for me and Varnak when we’re sick.”
The idea of food of any kind made Lamprophyre’s stomach revolt. “Not now. Maybe later. Now I need to sleep.”
“All right. I hope you feel better soon.”
The next time Lamprophyre opened her eyes, what felt like a thousand beats later, Anamika was gone. Lamprophyre focused on breathing, in and out through the mouth, filling her lungs with warm, damp air and wishing more than ever she was home in the mountains, where no one had ever tried to poison her.
She tried to sleep again, hoping her body would finish purging itself while she was unconscious, but sleep eluded her, and she lay staring at what was in her line of vision, which was a slate where she’d written a number of words beginning with G: gather, goose, grin, goad, garnet. Her handwriting was still sloppy, but it was intelligible.
She was so used to thinking of herself as indestructible, impervious to any human attack, she hadn’t thought of the ways in which she was vulnerable. Now that her body wasn’t tearing itself apart, she could think more rationally. It was possible that poison wouldn’t have killed her, given how small a portion she’d eaten, but she had to assume whoever had done it had intended her death. But she couldn’t make any assumptions about who that human was. It was tempting to think it was the egg thieves, but she and Rokshan hadn’t made enough progress for the egg thieves to know they were in danger—or was she wrong? In any case, it was possible this was a random human who hated and feared dragons and wanted her gone, and there was nothing she could do about that.
A shudder ran through her, tinged with pain, the last remnants of the poison. She could still taste it under the charcoal bitterness. She would have to hire guards now, and be more careful with her food; she didn’t think Depik was careless in choosing meat, but he needed to be extra cautious now. Too bad he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen the poisoner.
She heard Rokshan approaching and managed to lift her head to look at him. “I found—you look terrible. Are you ill?”
“I was poisoned,” she said. Rokshan’s cheerful expression faded to one of horror.
“Poisoned? How?” he demanded.
“In the meat. The offal. Depik left it all out in readiness for today, and someone poisoned it.”
Rokshan gripped her hand as well as his small one would allow. “But you didn’t die.”
“It wasn’t fast-acting enough, and I got most of it out of my system. But I ache all over and I feel I could never eat again.” Lamprophyre put her other hand atop their joined ones. “And I don’t know what to do. If I have to defend against this kind of attack…”
“We’ll post guards. Maybe they can alter the kitchen to be more secure. Didn’t any of your servants see or hear anything?”
“Depik only heard me making noise after it happened. I haven’t seen anyone else this morning.” It occurred to her that she should have seen Depik at breakfast time. “Wouldn’t it be nice if it was the egg thieves that did it?”
“Nice? Lamprophyre, you’re still lightheaded if you can call being nearly killed ‘nice.’”
“True, but at least then I’d only have one enemy to worry about instead of potentially all of Tanajital.” She tried and failed to sit up. Rokshan put his other hand on her shoulder.
“Lie here and rest. You should probably eat something if you want to keep your strength up.” He hesitated, then said, “You’re sure Depik wasn’t responsible?”
“Depik? Why the Stones would Depik want me dead?”
“If he was part of a deep-laid plan—”
“That’s absurd!”
“Lamprophyre, it’s starting to look like we have to consider absurdities, given that anyone might have done this. Depik’s sad story might have been calculated to appeal to you, putting him in a position to kill you.”
Lamprophyre blew out a fist-sized knot of smoke that made her second stomach ache as if it had been the one poisoned. “I heard his thoughts, Rokshan. It wasn’t Depik.”
“Oh. Well, that’s a relief. I’ll go see what he’s up to and have him make you some chicken broth or something—is that something dragons eat when they’re sick?”
“Meat broth? Sometimes, yes. But I’m not hungry.”
“Hungry or not, you need food. I’ll be right back.”
Lamprophyre closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps. The city sounded peaceful today, its rumbling higher pitched like birdsong, the muffled murmur of human speech like its quiet breath. It made her feel peaceful, too, despite everything that had happened.
Footsteps, quick and light, and the sound of the back door creaking shut. “Depik’s ill,” Rokshan said.
Lamprophyre tried to sit up and the world spun around her. “Not more poison?”
“No. It’s that illness he told you about, where he can’t get out of bed. He just groaned when I prodded him. You ought to fire him if he can’t do his job.”
“It’s not his fault if he’s ill. He’ll be back to work soon. Besides, I told you I wasn’t hungry.”
Rokshan scowled. “Looks like I’ll have to do it. It’s your own fault if the soup is awful. And I’m going to have to send someone for fresh chickens, because there’s no way I’m trusting anything that was in your kitchen last night.”
Lamprophyre managed to doze while Rokshan bustled around. Servants ran back and forth in front of the entrance, and once she heard a chicken squawk and be instantly silenced. Finally Rokshan was shaking her shoulder and saying, “You’ll have to drag yourself out here, because none of us can lift the cauldron.”
She groaned, but found she was able to walk on hands and knees to the dining pavilion, where Rokshan had built a fire in the middle of the floor and positioned a cauldron, enormous even by Lamprophyre’s standards, over it. It smelled deliciously of cooked bird, and when Lamprophyre’s stomachs rumbled, for once it didn’t hurt.
Rokshan handed her a hollow glass tube as long as her arm. “Use this to drink the broth,” he said, “and we’ll bring you the meat when you’ve regained some strength.”
Lamprophyre examined the tube closely, then put it in her mouth and blew through it. “Almost,” Rokshan said, and showed her how to put the tube in the cauldron and drink through it. The broth was warm, very comforting, and Lamprophyre discovered she was hungry after all. She slurped up broth until her stomach felt less painful, and then ate shredded, boiled chicken until she was full. Her muscles still ached, but the weakness was mostly gone, and she was able to walk back to the embassy and settle herself comfortably.
Rokshan sat beside her holding a bowl containing some of the chicken meat. “Not too bad,” he said, using the strange pronged stick he called a fork to convey meat to his mouth. “I’m good at cooking so long as it’s over an open fire. I got used to doing it on maneuvers. The Army,” he added when Lamprophyre gave him a confused look.
“I wouldn’t think a prince would do any cooking,” she said. “In all our stories, princes and princesses have adventures. They don’t do anything simple like cooking or…I can’t think of anything else.”
“Princes and princesses need occupation as much as anyone. Tekentriya is the most active person I know, and she insists everyone around her be active, too. Manishi is obsessed with magic. Even Anchala spends her whole day researching. I guess Khadar is the only one of us who’s indolent, and even he can’t get away with doing nothing, not as the Fifth Ecclesiast.” He took another bite. “Besides, those adventures never sounded like fun to me. Either the prince had some task that earned him a boring reward, or he had to fight monsters that were likely to kill him.”
“Well, thank you for cooking for me. I feel better.”
“It’s my pleasure. Besides, it’s selfishness. I need you well so we can catch Abhimot.”
Lamprophyre sat up. “You were going to look for him today, weren’t you?”
“Yes, and I’ve tracked him down. He lives in West District, and his neighbors don’t like him much, based on how quick they were to tell me about his many unpleasant habits.”
“Unpleasant, how?”
“He doesn’t keep his part of the street clean and has to be reminded to fuel his lantern—householders in West are legally obligated to maintain a light source along the street. He’s not friendly and he’s never willing to help when someone moves in or gets sick. A few people told me he has unsavory visitors, though they weren’t forthcoming about what ‘unsavory’ looked like. And two children went into some detail about his glass eye and how he sends it out by itself at night to peer in people’s windows.”
Lamprophyre gasped. “He can do that?”
Rokshan laughed. “I think that was just the kind of story children tell about anything strange. At any rate, I was going to go back this afternoon and confront him, but if you’re not well, I want to put that off until tomorrow.”
“Unless he lives in the coliseum, I don’t see how I’d be much help with that confrontation.”
“I was thinking of the possibility I’d apprehend him and drag him back here. But it can wait.” Rokshan put his empty bowl aside and stretched. “I think I’ll go back to the palace and arrange for guards for this place.”
“You mean, soldiers? I thought that would look too much like pandering, or favoritism, or something,” Lamprophyre said. “I can hire private guards.”
“It’s more important you not be hurt,” Rokshan countered. “And Gonjiri has an interest in making sure you aren’t. Besides, there aren’t any private fighting forces I’d trust with something like this.” He rose and picked up his bowl. “I’ll come back this evening to check on you. And if Depik isn’t up by then, I’ll kick him until he is.”
“Don’t—”
“I was kidding, Lamprophyre. I won’t harm him. Now, try to sleep.” He waved goodbye and walked out the back door.
Lamprophyre shifted her position until she felt more comfortable, then tucked her wings over herself and closed her eyes. It was fun to imagine frightening the maker of that wand, who couldn’t possibly expect a dragon to come after him, but the practicalities kept interfering. What would the rest of the city think if she pounced on a human that as far as everyone else was concerned was a helpless victim of the mad dragon? It would only make them fear her more. And yet she and Rokshan didn’t have much choice, if they wanted to learn the truth. She drifted off to sleep hoping Rokshan would find another solution.
Hard, heavy footsteps roused her some time later from dreams of flying backwards and upside down. Confused, she raised her head, blinked at the world not being reversed, and stood. She felt only a little wobbly, and her stomachs had settled.
Then she heard Depik shout, “My lady! Help!”
With a lurch, she propelled her still-awkward self out of the embassy into the courtyard, which was full of uniformed soldiers. Two of them had Depik by the arms and were dragging him toward the street as he kicked and thrashed. “What the Stones do you think you’re doing?” she roared, bringing every soldier in the courtyard to a halt. She shoved her way to Depik’s side and grabbed the arm of the nearest soldier, her fingers wrapping entirely around his arm and overlapping. “Take your hands off him!”
“My lady ambassador,” someone said from behind her. She released the soldier and turned. The male who addressed her wore the bright uniform General Sajan had. He tilted his head to look up at her where she towered over him, his thoughts showing only a hint of fear: can take care of herself, God’s breath, no idea who’d try such a thing.
“What are you doing with my cook?” she said, not quite as loudly.
“My lady ambassador,” the uniformed soldier said, “this man is accused of poisoning you. We’re taking him into custody.”
“What?” Lamprophyre turned to stare at Depik, who shook his head violently. “Depik didn’t poison me.”
“With all due respect, my lady, he had the most opportunity, and he’s a known vagrant,” the soldier said. “We’ll interrogate him and prove his innocence or guilt.”
“But he—” Lamprophyre closed her mouth. She didn’t want to reveal her secret ability, certainly not in the middle of the street, but she also couldn’t allow them to subject Depik to whatever interrogation they thought necessary. Particularly since the soldier’s thoughts about the word “vagrant” weren’t complimentary.
She turned on the soldier again. “He’s not guilty,” she said. “I’ve already interrogated him and I’m satisfied of his innocence. That should be enough for you.”
“My lady, you can’t possibly know—”
“I know, soldier,” Lamprophyre said, taking a few steps in his direction and forcing him to stand with his back arched to meet her gaze. “Depik has my confidence. If he wanted to poison me, he’d be much smarter about it—or do you think he doesn’t know he’s the first one suspicion would fall on?”
The soldier swallowed, the sharp lump in his throat bobbing up and down. “No, my lady.”
“I appreciate that you and your people want to keep me safe. Thank you. But wouldn’t it be better to ask around the neighborhood to find out if anyone saw someone skulking around here last night?” Lamprophyre not very gently peeled hands off Depik’s arms and prodded Depik in the direction of the kitchen. “And if you do find out who did it, I’d like to know.”
The soldier made a complicated gesture, stepped away from Lamprophyre, and shouted, “Form up!” As the soldiers tramped about getting into a regular, square formation, the male said, “I hope you’re right, my lady.”
“I am,” Lamprophyre said.
The soldier shouted again, and all of them marched away down the street.
Lamprophyre let out a long breath. “Well, that was an exciting way to wake up,” she said.
Depik was staring at her. “My lady,” he said, faintly as if he were out of breath, then more loudly, “You don’t know I didn’t do it! Why did you protect me?”
Lamprophyre regarded him. “Did you poison me?” she asked.
“Of course not!” His thoughts fiercely matched his words, with a fainter undercurrent of she shouldn’t believe me, I look so guilty, never in a million years would I…
“I believe you,” Lamprophyre said. “And it’s like I said: if you were going to poison me, I think you’d be smarter about it. But I gave you a chance when no one else would, and that matters to you.”
Depik’s mouth fell open. Then he let out a great, sobbing breath, and tears trickled down his face. “Why?” he said. “I’m nothing to you.”
His tears made Lamprophyre uncomfortable. “I suppose because you needed help,” she said. “And dragons don’t give help with an eye to how it might be repaid. I don’t know how humans do it.”
“Most wouldn’t,” Depik said. He wiped his eyes and said, “I’m feeling better now, my lady, and whatever you want for supper, I’ll do. But no more leaving food here overnight, not even if it’s more convenient.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Lamprophyre considered her stomach. “Something light, I think. And not complicated. I hope Rokshan didn’t leave you a huge mess when he made soup.”
“My fault he had to,” Depik said, but his thoughts weren’t nearly so grim and despairing as they usually were when he contemplated his illness. “Go on and rest, my lady. Leave it to me.”
“Thank you.”
Lamprophyre walked back into the embassy and settled in front of her slate. Practicing her handwriting would keep her from fretting too much about Abhimot and the wand. It occurred to her that someone capable of making such a weapon knew far too much about dragons’ weaknesses, more even than dragons did, and that he might have more weapons at hand. He might be more dangerous than they thought.
She’d written a dozen words starting with the letter G a dozen times each when she heard Rokshan’s quick footsteps approaching. “I feel better,” she began, but fell silent when she saw him, his expression furious. “Is something wrong?”
“It turns out one of Abhimot’s neighbors liked him better than I thought,” Rokshan said. “Abhimot’s fled.”