“Oh, of course. I should hate to lose your services. Perhaps Anaea, it’s sunny there and there’s only two busy times, at planting and harvest.”
“I was thinking Hypatia, my Tyr. I understand the climate in the capital city is very mild.”
Hypatia! The Copper wondered just how tired old NoSohoth was. He’d been skimming a percentage of much of the trade that came into the Lavadome for ages. His hoard must be fabulous, wherever it lay.
“Hypatia. That’s not exactly a Protectorate to while away one’s time in the sun, you know. You’ll be at the heart of the Grand Alliance.”
“And it is in the keeping of your friend NoFhyriticus. A dragon has a rare sense and even temper, I will admit.”
“You have both those qualities as well, old friend.”
“My Tyr flatters me.”
The Copper could see the reason behind NoSohoth’s desire. A Protectorate as rich as Hypatia—he could fill his resort’s bathing pools with silver if he wished.
“Don’t speak of flattery. You deserve it.”
“I’ll train a replacement, of course. I was thinking, perhaps, of devoting myself to selecting and training one to take my place after the hearing of this accusation of murder.”
“You doubt their evidence?”
“I’ve only heard rumors, my Tyr, but it strains credulity.”
“You deserve a reward for all your services past.”
“And future, my Tyr.”
“Yes, and future. When we’ve put this ugly matter behind us you may begin your preparations for becoming a Protector.”
“Of Hypatia, my Tyr?”
“If that is what you want, that is what you shall have,” the Copper said.
He wondered if he’d just outbid Ibidio in this contest for justice.
It was impossible to sleep, impossible to think—the Copper wanted to fly to Nilrasha and tell her about the predicament, but the questioning would be over by the time he could return. He lurked in his chambers and bath, like SiMevolant of old, brooding. No wonder he was so dour and sought refuge in the aroma of sweat emanating from plump human females.
Could he send a swift messenger to Nilrasha, seeking her advice? No, she’d tell him to sacrifice her to preserve his status as Tyr.
It seemed unfair that she couldn’t answer the charges with her own voice.
The arrangement with NoSohoth was cold comfort. Too much could go wrong. It may all depend on the digestion of the audience when the witnesses were heard. He’d have to see about sending some bullocks from the Tyr’s herd around to the principal hills.
A thrall announced that his Queen-Consort wished to see him.
“Very well, show her in.”
He had no interest in listening to Wistala’s latest complaint about one of the Protectors taking too many cattle or making a meal out of a bronze statue.
His sister entered, followed by Rayg. What was she doing with him?
“My brother,” Wistala greeted him. “DharSii has returned. He’s trying to learn more about the crystal statue taken from the Red Queen.”
His bats had told him that DharSii was in the Lavadome, mostly visiting with Wistala. As for that crystal…Rayg had been experimenting with the crystal for years. For all its size, it didn’t seem to do much. He’d done much better with the smaller jewel AuRon had brought into the Lavadome when he delivered the Queen’s ultimatum.
DharSii wanted permission from him to descend with Rayg into the depths of the Lavadome, Wistala explained.
“Unless he’s interested in a show of lights, I don’t understand what he thinks he can learn.”
“I’ve been studying what happens to the lights when we try to interact with the crystal,” Rayg said.
Interact? What, could a piece of stone live?
He needed to get his mind off of the upcoming questioning. “I’ll come. I’d like to see what DharSii is up to with my own eyes. I hope the great dandy doesn’t mind getting his sii dirty.”
“The Ankelenes are slowly coming around to my opinion,” Rayg said.
“What’s that?”
“It’s easier if I show you.”
They met DharSii outside, and the Copper waved off the usual formalities, though he did offer the visitor a mouthful of coin. DharSii declined.
“I’d rather keep my thoughts clear.”
They descended through Imperial Rock, down into the livestock pens and storage rooms, and finally to slippery chutes coated with waste from dragon, thrall, and livestock. The Copper hadn’t been this low in the Lavadome since learning the few passageways into the depths during his time in the Drakwatch. The only things that thrived in this noisome mess were worms and brightly glowing cave-moss. Thick masses of dwarfsbeard hung from the ceiling like hedges.
Rayg led them through a series of dripping passages. Unpleasant waste pooled and reeked.
They passed along a natural watercourse that churned the muck out of the Lavadome and down. Here they picked up a cleaner trail again.
Then they came to sort of a twisting passage that dropped like a root, with a root’s branching divisions. Rayg, hanging on to a rope thrown around the Copper’s neck, stayed on his feet.
The party began to see pieces of crystal running through the stones. Cavern increasingly gave way to crystal.
“We’re on Anklemere’s old road,” Rayg said. “After he was killed, dragons took out his stairs to make room for us to pass.”
They came to sort of an overlook. The Copper thought the cavern looked like an unusually angry sea, the whitecaps frozen forever into blue-white still life.
Lights like tiny drifting jellyfish ran inside the crystal caps. The lights waxed, sparked, waned, and flickered out like fireflies dying in the time it took to draw a long breath.
“What is this?” the Copper asked.
“It looks like fairy fire,” DharSii said. “But brighter. We get it in the sky in the far north.”
“It reminds me of stars,” Wistala said. “What is it?”
“Not even the Ankelenes know,” Rayg said. “Some believe that this is where the heat from the Lavadome is channeled and dispersed, the way wet drips off a mammal’s fur.
“I can tell you one more thing. These lights—they’ve become more active. They start and burn out faster, and there are more of them. According to the Ankelenes, the only variation before was when the lava was more active. They would burn brighter, longer.”
“Magic?” the Copper asked.
“Magic is a cheap explanation for the inexplicable,” Rayg said. “A dragon’s fire may seem magical to many humans, but it’s just an oil fire with a little sulfur mixed in. With a few more chemicals it’s difficult to identify, because they react so strongly to air.”
“Rayg’s practical,” the Copper said.
“Let me see him create dragonfire in his workshop,” DharSii said.
Rayg pulled up a chain from his overshirt. The crystal AuRon had worn, an unfortunate “gift” from the Red Queen for his emissary duties to the Lavadome. It glowed behind a metal lattice, like a tiny owl in a miniature cage.
“Why the bars?” DharSii asked.
“If I let it touch my skin, I become—overexcited. I can’t sleep. Or even sit down. For a few minutes it’s exhilarating, especially when I’m working on a problem. An hour is exhausting. A day would drive me mad.”
“What’s the longest you ever had it on?” the Copper asked.
“Three days. I think. It could have been less. One of your bats found me on the floor of my workroom with my nose bleeding. After that, I quit touching the crystal except for a few minutes at a time, by putting a finger or two through these bars.”
“They’re obviously connected,” Rayg said.
“Similar material, similar structure. Similar origins?” Wistala asked.
“I believe you’re right, Wistala,” DharSii said. “You have an Ankelene’s mind in a Skotl body with a Wyrr temperament.”
Wistala’s scale rippled at the praise. The Copper remembered their mother’s scale rising and falling that way when Father spoke to her.
He wondered. DharSii was a well-enough-formed dragon with a good mind, but he struck him as one interested only in his own affairs. He wasn’t likely to make much of a mate, nor would he, the Copper suspected, mate unless it were somehow to his advantage. Perhaps he did wish to return to a position of importance in the Lavadome. If that was all, the Copper couldn’t help but think less of him.
“There are records of the Lavadome dating back to Ankle-mere. It may be older, we just have no proof. The crystal NooMoahk had in his library that the Red Queen seized goes back to the days of blighter dominance, if not before.”
“I would suggest it’s an engine of some kind, but beyond anything we could possibly comprehend.”
“Ever since the Red Queen sent NiVom, Imfamnia, and myself to retrieve the object the blighters call the ‘sun-shard’ I’ve been curious about what she thought it would do. NooMoahk’s library yielded some pieces of information.
