The Merchant Emperor (49 page)

The light grew almost painful in its radiance; the sounds of the river increased until it filled the cavern with thick liquid music. Finally the Nain princess came to a halt.

“The Molten River is beyond this bend in the tunnel,” she said quietly to Rhapsody. “I believe it is wise for all of us save you to remain here. We can see if we stand at the bend, but still have cover.”

Rhapsody nodded. She turned and smiled encouragingly at the women who had put their lives in abeyance, and at risk, to travel to this place with her, her eyes full of gratitude. Then she rounded the bend and disappeared from their sight, though she was still within their earshot.

The sight of the Molten River caused her to take in a deep breath; it was not too much wider than a meadow stream, but flowed with a strength that belied its width. The fire lore within her sang with joy in its presence; there was a purity to it that rang in Rhapsody’s soul. Its movement caused the roaring light to dance in glorious patterns around the high archways carved into the caverns on the other bank, the lands that were the beginning of the dragon’s realm. Fire burned sporadically on its surface.

“Witheragh!” she called over the rushing roar of the Molten River, speaking haltingly in her best approximation of the draconic tongue. “Hail, in the name of Elynsynos.”

For a long moment, all the women could hear was the echoing sound of the river and the noise of dripping high above in the cavern. Then Rhapsody was certain she heard a chuckle from the other side of the river of fire.

“Well, that’s a brave greeting, in more ways than one,” came a voice, sounding in the familiar tones of soprano, alto, tenor, and bass, much as every other dragon Rhapsody had heard manipulate the wind to speak sounded. “First, your draconic grammar is remarkable, but your pronunciation is appalling. I expect that’s because you do not have the physiology to do it correctly; unless you have the appropriate wyrm aperture in your throat, you cannot
possibly
make the hisses and clicks that would be necessary to make your attempt anything but embarrassing.”

“Sorry,” Rhapsody muttered.

“Second, if you are going to pretend to know a dragon personally to impress me, it would be wise to choose one that is not of such epic status as to be impossible for you to be taken seriously. It might have been a little less amusing if you had chosen Sidus, or Mikanic, either of whom it is technically possible, though, of course, highly unlikely, that a Lirin woman might have met. You are Lirin, are you not? Though you have chosen to shield your features, I can smell you—Lirin have a sweet smell, and
taste
. But really,
Elynsynos
? One of the Five Daughters? For goodness’ sake, why didn’t you just come in the name of the Creator himself?”

“Because—”

The tone of the multilevel voice turned darker.

“And, finally, I’m not certain which is more foolhardy, standing at the border of my domain and
shouting
for me, as if I am a footman waiting to take your baggage, or standing, Lirin that you are, on the threshold of the Nain lands, apparently uninvited. That might actually rank up there as the stupidest thing I’ve heard of in several centuries.”

“I apologize for my appalling pronunciation,” Rhapsody said. “You are right about my physiology, but I can’t help that.”

“True. But the other reasons are indeed something you can ‘help.’ My treaty of nonaggression is with the Nain, not the Lirin. I feel pained to inform you that you are under no protection of law at the moment, and therefore in what those brighter than yourself would sense to be considerable danger.”

“I understand that as well. I do beg your indulgence; if you will hear me out, I believe you might reconsider my status.”

For a moment there was no sound but the hollow echo of dripping in the massive cave and the roaring of the river of fiery lava. Then, from the shadowy region beyond the painfully bright moving light, an immense form emerged, moving slowly and deliberately toward her in the darkness.

Rhapsody kept her eyes trained on the approaching dragon, but behind her she could feel the other women, who had stepped up to the bend, move farther back. She could sense their panic, especially that of Melisande, whom she had sent to a dragon’s cave herself. She waved her arm encouragingly behind her.

The light splashing up from the Molten River illuminated the enormous head of the beast, a much less delicate creature than Elynsynos had been, with heavy earthen features. The dragon’s hide was brown like the walls of his cave, but that hide was almost impossible to see through the carpet of thousands of sparkling jewels, carefully cut and polished, that the Nain had given him over the centuries as tribute, which the beast had set into his scales to adorn himself. The combination of the gems and the light from the river caused a visual effect much like the exploding of a dark skyful of rainbows with each movement of the giant serpentine body.

Witheragh came to a halt on the other side of the river, his red eyes twinkling menacingly.

“I’ll offer you a bargain,” the great beast said in a painfully polite tone, the undertone of threat unmistakable. “I will hear you out, as you have requested, and if I am not impressed enough to reconsider your status, I will give you to the Nain to flay, dress, and smoke for me, whereupon I shall enjoy the sweet taste of you for dessert tonight. I think I will have you stuffed with cheese and topped with chocolate.”

Rhapsody inhaled deeply. When she spoke, her Naming lore was in her tones, along with a good deal of displeasure.

“Oh,
please
. Witheragh, from the second clutch of Mylinmacr, son of Ylsgraith, you are
wasting my time
. I have a boon to ask of you that will serve your most important purposes as well as my own, and you are playing childish games with me. Again, in the name of Elynsynos, I greet you with respect and seek your attention.” She exhaled what was left of her breath. “And apologize again for my woeful pronunciation.”

The vertical slits in the fiery red eyes contracted, and the enormous head stretched across the river and swung down in front of her. The giant nostrils, ringed in colorful gems and glinting brightly in the light reflecting off the Molten River, released a puff of steam that wafted over her.

“Who are you?” the wyrm demanded. “And how did a Lirin Namer come to know my lineage?”

“Well, since you have correctly guessed that I am a Namer, you know that I only speak the truth. So I will tell you again, I come in the name of Elynsynos, because she was my beloved friend and teacher—as well as being the great-great-grandmother of my child. She taught me the entirety of the lineage of the Wyrmril on one of the occasions that I went to study with her. And since I answered your second question first, I will now tell you that my name is Rhapsody.” She took hold of her hood and pulled it down.

The great beast’s eyes opened wide, sending a meteor shower of flashes of gem-colored light spinning around the opening of the cave. Rhapsody winced, hearing Analise and Melisande behind her cry out in pain.

“Well, well,” the dragon said. “Little as I care for the affairs of man, I have actually heard your name before, in the conversations of the Nain that creep through the sounds of the river and into my lair. How unusual. Are you not some sort of queen or something?”

“That hardly matters in terms of what I have come to you for. But yes, I am.”

The dragon brought its head down even lower and looked into her eyes.

“Oh, but you are mistaken, Your Majesty,” the beast said, the painfully polite tone returning to the multitoned voice he was creating from manipulated air. “It matters a great deal. Because if you are a queen, you should be able to offer something of great monetary value to me in exchange for the boon you are seeking.”

Rhapsody, long accustomed to dragons attempting to enchant her with their gaze, averted her eyes while remaining focused forward.

“That’s a badly informed assumption. Surely you can assess the contents of our pockets and our packs, down to the last copper piece. You know that we only have traveling money and a few low-quality gems of tender.”

The dragon chuckled.

“True enough, though you have quite a lovely little emerald ring on your left hand. I assume that’s the symbol of a marriage vow, rather than a signet of state? At least I hope it is; otherwise, your initial description of your queendom hardly mattering was truthful after all.”

The thudding silence that followed echoed in the cavern.

Rhapsody exhaled and counted to ten.

“It is, in fact, my wedding ring,” she said.

The dragon tilted its head, regarding her with interest.

“Hmmm. That, and an extremely cheap locket of low quality gold around your neck, containing—” He seemed to concentrate for a moment, then shook his titanic head. “A copper piece, which at the height of its value was worth three pennies, and is not even regular in its striking; thirteen-sided, how strange.” His head righted itself again. “You truly are a strange queen, Rhapsody, Friend of Elynsynos, whatever else you are. Really, Your Majesty, haven’t you at least a
crown
of some sort? I like crowns.”

“Not with me. It resides in my realm. And it does not belong to me, but to my people.”

“What a shame. So did you plan to offer me your wedding ring in payment for this boon?”

“I did not,” Rhapsody said sharply. “But if that’s your price, you may have it. The vow it represents does not reside within the ring, but within my heart and that of my husband. The ring is only a symbol.” She inhaled slowly.

“And, while it is of fine quality, with some very pretty sparkly diamond dust surrounding the stone, and very old, it is, as I said, very small, most likely to fit your similarly small hand,” said Witheragh. “It would be insignificant among my collection. So you may keep it. What else do you have to offer in payment?”

“Do you not even wish to hear my request first?”

“No, actually,” said the dragon, and the amusement in his voice dimmed somewhat. “I care nothing for the races of man, as I believe I’ve already stated. You are the gateway of the Unspoken into this world, an unnecessary evil and a complication in keeping the Earth safe from what lies below. That is all I care for, Your Majesty, the guardianship of what really matters. So while this negotiation has been both amusing and pathetic, you are, as you said to me, wasting
my
time.”

“The boon I am requesting fits precisely into what matters to you,” Rhapsody said coolly. “It may be what prevents a shattering of the Shield. And it is easy enough for you to do, if you accept my request.”

“Speak it quickly then,” said the beast. “And be prepared to leave quickly thereafter.”

“I am asking your aid in guarding my child,” Rhapsody said. “In spite of your belief that I am uninvited at the doorstep of the kingdom of the Nain, I do, in fact, have an invitation.” She thought she could feel Gyllian smile behind her. “It is my intention to ask Faedryth for refuge for my child, whose lineage I have already told you of. That child is sought by one who is in league with at least one F’dor, housed in a body of Living Stone; I need not tell you what their ultimate goal is, I assume.”

Again the cave was filled with devouring silence.

“All I ask is that you increase your vigilance at the doorway of the Deep Kingdom,” Rhapsody continued. “If you guard this front entrance, and make it your second-highest priority to do so, I have been assured none can enter the Nain realm from any other doorway—do you agree with that assessment?”

The dragon’s eyes narrowed, making the vertical pupils expand sideways. It seemed he was thinking for a moment.

“I do,” he said finally.

“Let none pass that you do not know for certain belong here,” Rhapsody said. “
None whatsoever.
Are you willing to do that for me?”

The draconic head raised up slightly, looking down at her at an angle.

“I suppose, as I have already said, it would depend upon the price you are willing to pay.”

“I have already told you I would give you my wedding ring.”

“And I have already told you that I do not want it.”

“Well, what
do
you want, then?” Rhapsody demanded impatiently.

A cruel smile spread over the dragon’s face.

“Nothing much,” he said casually. “It’s a simple request you are making, so I will be fair. All I want in payment is, hmmm, let me think,
let me think
—all right, I have it. Just to show you what a fair and reasonable beast I can be, I will ask only a lock of your hair in payment.”

“Rhapsody,” said Gyllian quietly from behind her, “no.”

Once more the cave fell to silence.

“Why do you want such a thing?” Rhapsody asked.

The dragon rocked his head from side to side, and shrugged, a motion that she had seen Elynsynos make.

“It’s pretty,” he said nonchalantly. “And it’s gold; I like gold.”

Rhapsody exhaled evenly. She was well aware of the threat of such a seemingly mild offer. A lock of hair was the story of a person’s life, and elements of that story could be retrieved and manipulated by Namers; the possibility of what other beings might be able to do with such a rich resource of personal information was staggering.

And terrifying.

Rhapsody did not care.

“When Elynsynos was teaching me the canon of the Wyrmril, she told me a little about you, as she did each of the living dragons of the world,” she said quietly.

“Oh?”

“Yes. She said that you were materialistic, a hoarder of treasure, but not greedy; that you were curmudgeonly and occasionally petty, but not utterly unreasonable, as she described some others. She also said that you were a wyrm of your word and trustworthy; that the Nain had not made a foolish alliance with you, even if they pay dearly for it. So I am ready to believe, based on the word of my dear friend and a dragon of epic status, that you will not make a bargain with me that I need to fear the breaking of. Would you say that was reasonable?”

“I would,” said Witheragh. “But if you doubt my word, what does any assurance from me matter?”