Lamprophyre peered at the paper in Rokshan’s hand. The clear light filling the embassy made the marks stand out against the creamy background. “I wish I could read,” she said. “What do the marks mean?”
“It’s an invitation,” Rokshan said. “The front side says Tanajital is invited to meet the dragon ambassador at her embassy tonight. It’s short notice for a diplomatic gathering, but this gives our enemy no time to plan a counterattack. And it’s not a typical diplomatic gathering, either. Those are for nobles and foreign dignitaries.”
“What is on the back side?”
“Things about you that are interesting. Who your mother is. Where you’re from. Anything I could think of that made you sound like an ordinary person with ordinary interests. Insofar as that’s possible.” Rokshan folded the paper and tucked it inside his shirt. “And I’ve spent the last two days having my own handbills spread throughout the city. One of them counters, point by point, the one our enemy produced. The other is a poem I found in the palace archives—”
“Humans compose poems?”
“Yes—I take it so do dragons?”
“I love poetry. I know hundreds of poems and I’m very good at recitation.”
Rokshan grimaced. “I wish I’d known that, it could have gone on the invitation. Also, I want—no, there’s no time now. At any rate, I found a poem about dragons written by a human some three hundred years ago. It’s not very accurate, because the woman lived in a time when we all thought dragons were dead and she’d never seen one, but it’s very complimentary. I hope it reminds people that we weren’t always afraid of you.”
“That’s interesting. Can I hear the poem?”
“I didn’t memorize it, but I’ll bring you a copy.”
Movement by the embassy door drew Lamprophyre’s attention. She sat up as a human male entered. His thoughts showed no fear of her, which surprised her; she hadn’t stayed hidden in the embassy for the last two days, had made herself as visible as she could by flying over the city, but she hadn’t approached any humans either. Being feared and shunned hurt her feelings.
Rokshan strode across the floor to greet the newcomer. “You got my message.”
“All three of them,” the male said. “Did you think I’d forgotten how to read, or were you just afraid your incentives weren’t enough?”
Rokshan laughed and clapped the male on his shoulder. The male was a little taller than Rokshan and broader in the shoulders, and his hair was a lighter brown than Lamprophyre had yet seen on a human. “Come and meet the dragon ambassador,” Rokshan said. “Lamprophyre, this is my friend Dharan. Dharan, this is Lamprophyre.”
Lamprophyre sat up straight and examined this male Rokshan had called the most brilliant mind of his generation. He looked like any other human male, though his clothes were more colorful than Rokshan’s. If he was intelligent, it didn’t show on the outside any more than a dragon’s intelligence did.
Dharan gazed at Lamprophyre curiously. “Already I can see how our stories are wrong,” he said. “The pictures show you as much, much bigger, with scales the size of a human hand. And no records indicate how brightly colored you are. Or are you unique among dragons?”
“I’m not full-sized—I’ll add another half dozen handspans to my length in the next fifteen years,” Lamprophyre said. “And all dragons have some bright color about them. Even Hyaloclast, our queen, isn’t pure black.”
“Astonishing,” Dharan said. “Rokshan said dragons don’t have a written language. Do you know why not?”
Lamprophyre shook her head. “It could be that we live long enough, and have memories good enough, that we don’t need to write things down to remember them. Though we have art—we draw on our cave walls, and in places in the heights, and we carve sculptures.”
Dharan let out a quiet groan and ran his fingers through his hair. “Dragon art. I have to see it.”
“We don’t want humans in our homes, sorry. I suppose I could draw for you, but I’m not an outstanding artist.”
“That would be nice. But I understand you want to learn to read and write?”
“And share stories,” Rokshan said.
“I would, yes,” Lamprophyre said. “It’s such an interesting concept, that lines and curves could mean something other than pictures.”
Dharan glared at Rokshan. “You waited three days before sending word. I have to question whether our friendship means anything to you.”
Lamprophyre drew in a breath to protest, but Rokshan laughed and slapped Dharan on the back. “It was a busy three days. Lamprophyre, would you mind letting Dharan fly with you?”
“I don’t mind.” That wasn’t entirely true. Dharan wasn’t her friend yet, and flying with Rokshan felt like an extension of their friendship in a very personal way. Still, she could be polite.
But Dharan was shaking his head. “Don’t be offended, Lamprophyre, but I’m terrible with heights,” he said. “I get dizzy at the top of stairs. Flying—that sounds like a nightmare.”
“It’s perfectly safe, but I understand,” Lamprophyre said.
“Your loss,” Rokshan said. “Do you want to take rooms at the palace?”
Dharan shook his head again. “Not if Anchala is living there,” he said. “I realize she’s your sister, but she’s convinced I’m her true love and no amount of reasoning can change her mind.”
“Yet another one of your many conquests. How many women has your mother dangled in front of you this year?”
“Too many.” Dharan glanced at Lamprophyre. “Is it true dragons mate for life?”
Lamprophyre had had trouble following their conversation, so she jumped on this uncomplicated question gratefully. “We are pair-bonded for life, yes.”
“Did you leave your mate behind when you came to Gonjiri?”
Lamprophyre laughed. “No, I’m young enough nobody expects me to choose a partner for a few more years. I hope by then I’ll be attracted to someone in the flight. They’re all friends, but I don’t feel interested in any of the available males.”
Dharan nodded. “I’m in exactly your position, except my mother thinks I’m past old enough to marry. I’m only twenty-six, for Jiwanyil’s sake!”
“So you could, um, marry, but you don’t want to?”
“Dharan is waiting for the perfect woman,” Rokshan said. “Intelligent, beautiful, well-spoken, and strong-willed enough to stand up to his mother. I keep telling him he’s expecting a miracle, but he’s stubborn.”
“As if your mother doesn’t despair of you ever settling down,” Dharan said. “Let’s go to the Hidden Ivy and get me a room, and then I’d love to talk more with you, Lamprophyre. It will give me a sense of how to teach you.”
“I’d like that,” Lamprophyre said. “Will there be enough time before the reception?”
“I have people coming to prepare food late this afternoon,” Rokshan said, “and more people to hang lights and do other things to make the embassy even more attractive. But you don’t have to worry about that.”
“People—that sounds like many servants. Do I have enough coin?”
“Don’t worry about that, either.”
Lamprophyre put her head low enough to stare Rokshan in the face. He returned her regard placidly. “That makes me worried. I know we already used some of Manishi’s coin to hire the humans who keep the embassy clean and cook my food, but it must take a lot of food if we plan to feed all of Tanajital. Where did I get more coin?”
“It’s all right, Lamprophyre. You borrowed money from me.” Rokshan gripped her hand briefly. “We’ll have to make another flight to the mountains, that’s all. I promise not to be an importunate lender.”
Lamprophyre felt skeptical of this. She knew enough about how humans felt about coin to be certain loaning it out to others was a sensitive subject. But she also knew Rokshan well enough to recognize when arguing with him was pointless. “Tomorrow night,” she said. “Maybe there will be garnet available.”
“Garnet?” Dharan said.
“I’ll explain as we go,” Rokshan said. “Try and rest, Lamprophyre. It’s going to be a long, busy night.”
When the two males were gone, Lamprophyre settled comfortably on the earth floor and rested her head on her arms. She wasn’t at all certain Rokshan’s plan would work. On the other hand, it wasn’t as if she had any other options. If she wanted humans to like her, she had to prove she was likeable. Even her servants were nervous around her, though none of them were outright afraid. She hoped with time that would change.
She also worried about the hidden enemy behind the stolen egg. Everything she and Rokshan had discussed made sense, but it was still all guesswork. She had no proof. Hyaloclast might accept guesswork, but Lamprophyre wanted to be sure, if dragons were going to attack someone, that it was the right someone. And she didn’t know how to turn guesswork into proof, short of listening to the thoughts of everyone who might have been involved and hoping one of them would incriminate herself.
Lamprophyre sighed, sending up a puff of smoke, and closed her eyes. Time enough to worry about that when she wasn’t at odds with everyone in Tanajital. She hoped Rokshan’s efforts would matter.