Maker of Fire

Emily, Gangkego, Cold Season, 6th rot., 3rd to 4th days

Gangkego was unlike any city I had ever seen on Erdos. Everything but the rooftops was white marble. Even the roads were paved with marble flagstones. The main streets were wide and lined with rows of ancient pine trees.

All the color in the city was on the pitched roofs. These were covered with diamond-shaped tiles in bright patterns, reminding me of the patterned rooftops of Medieval Austrian churches. The difference in Gangkego was that almost every roof was patterned in bright colors. The effect was stunning. I couldn't stop gawking.

The Parpeld Mountains came down almost to the ocean's edge, so there was very little coastal plain. The harbor of Gangkego was at the mouth of a river that came out of the mountains. The river's sediments formed a great delta of sloping ground between the beach and the toe of the nearest mountains. The anchorage around the river mouth was protected by two great breakwaters whose ends hosted a pair of massive lighthouses.

The city stretched from the beach up that slope to the first ridges of the mountains. On the top of the ridge nearest to the ocean sat the Temple of Vassu, with gleaming white walls and a steep-pitched roof. The pattern on the roof evoked waves in scalloped white, cyan, and deep blue.

"From the look on your faces, I can tell you are impressed with Gankego," Danasma chuckled.

I looked at Tom. He was gawking as much as I was.

"This is a beautiful place," I remarked. "How old is the city?"

"It was founded eighteen hundred years ago," Dalmatti replied from her perch in the driver's box, "though it was just a fishing village back then. Our history says we came here from the other side of the ocean, from the islands east of Mattamesscontess."

Dalmatti drove the wagon up the slope of the delta but turned south after passing six corners. The street we entered was lined with shops of all kinds. I got excited by all the goods for sale, leaning over the side of the wagon to get a better look. In the back of the shops were buildings that looked like combined warehouses and residences. I wondered if the living spaces were apartments.

Dalmatti turned down a side street and drove the wagon through a square arch into the interior of one of those warehouse structures. On the other side of the arch was a large courtyard which was half garden and half loading and stabling area. Several men and women ran out to hold the horses still and unload the wagon while Dalmatti jumped down and walked to the tailgate to see her daughter down.

"How does this chair thing work?" Dalmatti asked, looking at the folding wheelchair.

"I can show you," Tom offered, jumping down. He set up the chair and then helped Danasma down. Only then did he look to help me down, but I was already on the ground with Twee.

"Can you tell me which travel chest belongs to each of you?" Dalmatti asked, "and what sort of instruments are in those three bags?"

"The bags contain divines. The worn-out bag is mine. The black bag is Tom's and the new bag is Danasma's. The chest with the Mugash sigil is mine," I said. "The one with the Galt sigil is Tom's, and the one with the Vassu sigil is Twee's. The one with no sigil is for Danasma. The four-strong boxes and the two chests with the Giltak sigil are mine. You'll want to store the Giltak chests by themselves, where they will be safe if one catches on fire spontaneously. I doubt it will happen in this cool weather, but it's better to be cautious."

Dalmatti gave me a sharp look, "What is in them?"

"Weapons, instant fire, and the ingredients to make more," I replied.

"Instant fire? I know you showed that to my daughter. How does it work?" Dalmatti's look of interest was intense.

"Instant fire is just a trick with non-magical potions. One potion is soaked into a rough surface, and the other is dried onto the end of an aged wood twig without bark. Rubbing the two together causes the stuff on the twig to catch fire. The hard part is making the two potions unless you have magic, and even then, it is difficult."

"Can you make some fire now? I would like to see, Great One," Dalmatti asked.

"Call me Emily." I had a chance to stop the "Great One" nonsense before it spread throughout Inkalem.

"I can't do that," Dalmatti frowned. "You're a real prophet. You've spoken to our Lady of the Seas."

"Blarg," I shook my head and sighed. "'Great One' is a Foskan title. This is not Foskos."

Danasma gave me a sympathetic look, "It's either 'Great One' or 'Prophet Emily.' Anything else is disrespectful. We have no problems using Foskan honorifics."

"Looks like you can't escape it, Em," Tom shrugged and gave me his lopsided smile.

"Dammit," I was not happy. "Can I at least negotiate no titles or honorifics in private?"

"We can do that," Danasma said after trading a look with her mother. I found the silent communication between mother and daughter fascinating. It was apparent they were close.

"Now, Danasma has already seen this once before." I held up the match I had taken out and the red phosphorus-soaked sandstone rock. I struck the match, held it until the flame got too close to my fingers, and blew it out. Dalmatti was gaping. She didn't have time to say anything because we were interrupted right at that moment.

"Nummkims!" A balding man with grey hair wearing just one of those embroidered Inkalemi shirts came running out of the nearest door into the cold courtyard.

"Daddy!" Danasma was out of the chair. The two hugged, "I missed you so much."

"Where's Dora?" Danasma asked.

"The Council sent her to Tuleen to run things there," Dalmatti replied.

"What about the mines?" Danasma frowned.

"All of Ulamis' family were killed at Uldlip. We needed someone to take charge in Tuleen."

"Ah, well, I'll see her soon enough," Danasma sighed. "Father, let's all get inside first. Our Chem guest needs warmth. Then we can do introductions."

Settling in took a while. These people had no concept of zoning. The House Urssi building was part warehouse, offices, apartments, and mansion. It was common for the powerful merchant families to live in the same building as their businesses. After I warned the Urssi family about the chest of potassium perchlorate, antimony sulfide, and red phosphorus, Dalmatti left it on the wagon in the middle of the courtyard with a rotating guard of the city watch.

Making a warm wet place for Twee took most of the day. The council had circular tanks with hypocaust floors just for visiting Chem. After receiving the message that Imstay had sent via Tuleen, Dalmatti had one set up already. It took all afternoon to get the boiler going and the water heated up. The tank hadn't been used for several decades, so it took the House Urssi staff a while to figure out how to maintain a comfortable temperature for Twee.

In the meantime, Danasma and her father, Kerl, took Tom and me shopping. It was wonderful. If I had not been traveling to Sussbesschem, I would have bought out the entire spice market. There were so many interesting spices. Tom and I also bought three lovely embroidered Sea Coyn shirts, some baggy pants, and knee-high leather boots. Kerl did the haggling after Tom warned him that we didn't know what fair prices were and that I was terrible at bargaining.

Dinner was a delight. It was fresh fish and pickled veggies, served at a table that was a normal height, in chairs I didn't need to be lifted into. The best part was the sweet course, sugar-sweetened cocoa butter, better known as white chocolate. It was rare and precious. They served it because of me. I refrained from complaining about being a prophet for the rest of the evening.

The following day was difficult for me. The ruling council of Inkalem wanted to meet with me. The council met in the Temple of Vassu, which doubled as the city's largest meeting place. The Temple had a similar shape to one of those Scandinavian stave churches but on a massive scale. Gables on the roof let in some light, but most of the interior was lit by lamps fueled by fish oil. It took a while to get used to the smell.

The floor was pitched higher near the front doors, which faced west. The floor descended on broad steps, each accommodating five rows of chairs. There were twenty-five step platforms until reaching the bottom. What would be a sanctuary in a Christian church on Earth was called the Well of Vassu. It was a large space you could fit a symphony orchestra into. It held an altar in the very back. In front of that was an area that could be used for many different functions. The morning I met with the Ruling Council, it held a large table.

The council had five members: three from the great merchant houses that were the backstop of the Inkalemi economy, one elected member voted in for five years by the lesser land owners, and the head of the clergy, known as the Chief Hand of Vassu.

The Chief Hand ran all the council meetings and only voted on matters to break a tie. The current Chief Hand was a tall, stout middle-aged woman named Dali Erilskin. She wore the same bright blue robe as the rest of the Hands of Vassu. She was only set apart by a gold collar of estate, where each plaque in the collar was a fish biting its tail. Hanging from the collar was a large piece of lapis carved in the silhouette of a shark.

The Chief Hand asked that only I attend the meeting with the council, not Tom or Twee. I didn't find out until I sat down that she wanted to be convinced that I really was a prophet. I found the whole proceeding rather annoying. I wasn't thrilled to have to defend my status as a prophet when I didn't want to be one.

What followed was later recorded by Kamagishi as the eighth miracle of the Prophet Emily, damn her and her pesky record keeping.

The meeting got off on an adversarial start the moment I sat down. No one bothered to introduce themselves. I didn't even get any tea despite every council member being served with their own steaming beaker. The second my butt hit the seat of my chair, Erilskin lit into me.

"I am the Chief Hand of Vassu," Erilskin started. She didn't bother initially to give me her name. "I am told your name is Emily, and you claim to be a prophet." Her tone was neutral, but her face was hostile. It was good that I had had my morning repast, or I would have been grumpy. As it was, I was just annoyed.

"My first name is Emily," I said in a level voice. "I have several choices of surname and title. The deity Mugash gave me the name of Courage. By marriage, I would be Emily hat Martinez. The Inkalemi traders at Uldlip called me Miner of the North. The Cosm of Foskos call me the Maker of Fire and have given me the title of Revelator, which I'm sure you already know since the Shrines send you all the revelations as they happen. The Eagles have named me Friend. I do not claim to be a prophet. I am a prophet, despite my wishes not to be one. The gods dumped prophethood on me over my many objections. There is no claim here. I simply am one."

"How old are you?"

"In this life, I believe I am around sixteen. I'm not really sure. I do not know when I was born."

"Where were you born, and who raised you?"

"I don't know where I was born, but it might have been somewhere in the Island Swamp north of Blockit. My childhood was spent in an illegal breeding farm, which I escaped."

"How was that possible? Didn't you have a control gem?"

"I did. I bit it off my hand the night I escaped."

"That's impossible. That should have killed you."

"It should have, but it did not. I can not explain why I did not die."

"There is no scar on your left hand."

"The Queen of Foskos removed the scar on the night we met. You can ask her about it. The Blessed Lisaykos, High Priestess of Mugash, removed the breeding farm brand from my backside and the scars from the times I was whipped. I will not answer any more questions about the breeding farm or my escape. I still have nightmares and flashbacks from that time. No more." My last two words were loud enough to echo in the Temple's interior.

There was a long moment of silence as I glared at the Chief Hand. She glared back but caved first. I never lose a staring contest.

"I am told you have invented many things in Foskos over the last two years. How is that possible for a girl your age with no education?"

"I have all my memories of a previous life in a place that was not Erdos. I was a miner, artificer, and teacher in that life. I am not inventing things. I am introducing things that I remember from before."

"Danasma of House Urssi and Ulamis Tuleen reported that you can make fire instantly without magic and know how to make sky metal from rocks. Furthermore, they said you taught the Foskans how to make sky metal."

"It's not sky metal. Sky metal is a mixture of iron and nickel. What I can make and what I have taught is how to make iron and steel, which is iron doped with carbon. The gods commanded that I teach iron and steel making. I have taught the Foskans, and now, with the help of the Blessed Twee, I will teach the Chem."

"And will you teach us?"

"I have no choice in the matter. The gods want me to teach this to everyone. That's because Erdos is beginning to run out of tin for making bronze."

"Is that why you are here?"

"I am here because Vassu asked me to bring Danasma of Urssi home to Gangkago, buy fire bricks for building furnaces and kilns, and hire ships to take those bricks to Sussbesschem. We need to be on our way to Sussbesschem as soon as possible. I would have preferred to travel directly to Sussbesschem on a flying mount."

"Only mages can command flying mounts."

"Incorrect. Even before either of us became a revelator, the griffin Asgotl and I traveled together without the intercession of any mage. If you really read the reports of Danasma and Ulamis, then you already know this. Why do you insist on having me defend knowledge that I know you already know?" I was beginning to get really pissed off.

There was another long moment of silence as some of the Temple staff appeared to light more lamps as the morning was growing dark with clouds moving in and the wind picking up. That struck me a little odd since it was sunny when we walked to the Temple after the morning repast.

"I can not dispute that you really are a revelator, but nothing you have said has convinced me that you are a prophet."

"I don't care what you call me or if you believe I'm a prophet," I snarled. "What matters to me is following the commands that Vassu gave me regarding the aid I'm to give to the Chem. So long as you don't get in the way of what Vassu wants, you can call me a horse's ass for all I care."

Dalmatti covered their mouth to muffle her laugh. The only man on the council leaned back in his chair and smiled. The unusual sound of Cold Season thunder rolled outside the Temple, and the wind rattled the window frames.

"I am the Chief Hand of Vassu, and if I declare you a charlatan, the penalty for gross impiety is death."

"I would like to see you try. When I am on the gods' business, the gods protect me. Ask the survivors of Salicet. They will tell you that Asgolt and I flew through the fireballs that Impotuan mages threw at us without harm. I am on Vassu's business. Vassu will protect me."

"Impudence!"

"How did a fool like you become the head of Vassu's clergy here in Gangkego?" I sat back, wondering how to end this nonsensical exchange.

"It is my business to expose any fraud that might dupe the citizens of my country. You could be outfitted with magic tools by the Foskans to fool us into believing you are something you are not. Historically, Foskos is not our friend. We won a terrible and bloody war to keep them from conquering us. We must be sure of you."

*These people can't see or feel godmarks, Vassu,* I said in my head, wondering if I would be heard. *I could use some help here.*

*Granted, dear one,* Vassu replied. I twitched from surprise.

The wind howled outside. Flashes of lightning and immediate thunder made the Temple shake. The council members all leaped out of their chairs and backed away from the table in a rush, looking upward with expressions of fear. I leaned back and looked up to see Vassu in her aspect as the Terror of the Deep.

One of Vassu's red tentacles floated down and caressed the top of my head, *This is Emily, our beloved prophet. Heed her.*

The wind vanished along with Vassu. The storm disappeared. It was suddenly sunny outside as if the clouds had never moved over Gangkego this morning.

The Chief Hand picked herself up off the ground, brushed off her sleeves, and sat back down. She raised an eyebrow at me, "Well, that was convincing. You are indeed a prophet. This Temple will do everything possible to help you on your mission to Sussbesschem. Please forgive my doubts."

I found the about-face unbelievable. "You know, whatever your name is, you may have doubted the motives of the Foskans that brought us here, but Ud also brought us here. I can believe that you have reservations about the Foskans. Their history of oppression of our kind speaks for itself. But Ud? Ud was there on the pier with Danasma and Dalmatti when I was introduced as prophet. How can you doubt the acknowledgment of the greatest mortal power on the planet?"

The look on the Chief Hand's face was one of complete surprise, "I confess, that never even occurred to me."

The morning meeting was a difficult session with the Ruling Council. After Vassu's cameo appearance, the council swallowed the pill of a Foskan hegemony in the afternoon with sour looks but resignation. The situation of Inkalem was similar to the Coyn-only settlements I wanted to establish along the headwaters of the Copper and Claw Rivers. The trick would be to retain as much autonomy as possible for Coyn settlements while bringing in the benefits the Shrines could provide.

If a new treaty was made well, the Sea Coyn would gain the benefits of magic like firefighting and healing without too much loss of autonomy. The Foskan Coyn would gain access to the Sea Coyn, who had been free for centuries, which would help a population suddenly emancipated from servitude. It was the Cosm who didn't really gain much from the deal. They were the ones who had to provide services and oversight for the Coyn, and all they got were taxes for their efforts.

Emily, in the dreamscape

I was in my hot spring, the remodeled version by Ud, soaking in the small pool with Erhonsay. She was just as beautiful out of her chiton as she was in it. I was just a smidge on the envious side of it.

"Oh, please, Emily," she smiled knowingly, "I am a god, after all, and one of the three beauties judged by Paris."

"The stories of Troy were just a myth," I stated.

"Were they?" She winked at me.

"They weren't?"

"Well, parts of them, but behind every myth is a kernel of truth, even if it is a metaphorical truth," she conceded.

"This is the dreamscape, isn't it? I'm really sleeping in a bed in Gangkego with Tom, aren't I?"

"Yes, on both questions." She sighed and sunk a little deeper into the hot water. "This is a lovely thing, this hot spring. Ud did a good job here. She does love building things."

"So what do I owe the honor of your company?" I asked.

"It's time to introduce you to your greatest task," Erhonsay stated lightly. "It's a work that will last until the end of time for Erdos. Tom will help by overseeing many of your proposed projects so you can have the time to work on them."

I sat up in concern, "Yes, I wasn't happy when Vassu warned me I wasn't off the hook after the revelation of Landa."

"I noticed," Erhnsay sighed. "As far as managing prophets go, you are a handful. At least you're not as bad as Chow Su or Cassandra. She was prone to depression, to begin with, and Apollo was such a jerk with how he treated her. I will not work with him ever again because of that. Did you know that every mortal who got involved with him on Earth came to a miserable end? Yes, Emily, gods can be asses, like Apollo and Mugash. Tiki, too, at times. Oh, that's a great look, Emily. Surprised I'm talking about my working colleagues like this?"

"I guess, though, I shouldn't be that surprised, considering Galt's fit of temper at Mugash and Tiki. So tell me, what's on my plate after the revelation of Landa?"

"We want you to write a book that will become scripture. It will be your greatest contribution as a prophet. You are the only person who can do this for us because it must be written by a Coyn with no magic who remembers life on Earth."

"Say what?!?"

"No Cosm will ever convince the clever and creative Coyn that they must be ruled by the Cosm we have placed over them," Erhonsay replied in a calm, reasoning voice. "It must be a Coyn voice to convince your fellow Coyn."