Marci nodded. She’d known that much for a while, but Amelia’s explanation reminded her of a question she’d been meaning to ask. “If that’s true, then why were there no dragons flying around during the thousand years when magic was gone?”
“Because being in our true forms is very difficult when there’s no other magic helping to hold us up,” Svena explained. “It’s like being a fish with no water. We could still transform, but doing so caused us to instantly start suffocating, magically speaking. To avoid this, really powerful dragons like my mothers were forced into hibernation, but most of us were able to make do simply by remaining in human form. A shape that, being so small and crude, was far more sustainable.”
“And safer,” Amelia agreed. “No one shoots a ballista at a pretty lady.”
“You only say that because you’ve never experienced the true joy of raiding,” Svena said with a nostalgic smile. “Nothing makes you feel your own power better than seeing mortals fleeing in terror before you.”
“Spoken like a true monster,” Amelia said. “But back to the subject at hand.” She pointed at the fire that was still burning merrily on her palm. “A dragon’s fire is the source of everything. Kindling it the first time takes an enormous amount of power, which is why laying eggs is so brutal, but once you’ve got a spark, you’re set. So long as the dragon eats, avoids over-extending their magic, and otherwise takes care of themselves, their fire will get bigger and brighter every year forever. We might not beimmortalimmortal like spirits, who’ll just rise again over and over no matter how many times you punch them down, but we’re pretty close. As you saw with Estella last night, if our fire ever does go out entirely, we turn to ash and die. But so long as even one ember remains, we can live through just about anything, and that’s where you come in.”
“How does that work?” Marci asked, because so far, all this fire stuff sounded like dragon internal medicine. Definitely not the sort of thing she could help with.
“It’s simple,” Svena said, tilting her head toward Amelia. “She wants you to hold some of her life’s fire for her.”
Marci’s eyes shot wide. “Can I do that?”
“You should be able to,” Amelia said. “Given humanity’s unique ability to move and hold vast amounts of magic, I theorize—”
Svena scoffed. “Youtheorize?”
“Fine,” Amelia said with a long-suffering sigh. “Svenahas theorized that, despite originating in a completely different plane of existence, when it comes to human manipulation, our fire is no different from any other type of magic. Something you’ve actually proved repeatedly by tapping dragons to fuel your spells.”
Marci nodded. She’d pulled magic out of both Julius and Chelsie, and while doing so had always felt like plugging straight into the sun, it was still just magic at the end of the day.
“We’ve known this for a while,” Svena picked up. “But I’ve taken it one step further. Human magic is all about moving power around, but dragon magic is entirely based on self-control. It’s all about how well we manipulate and use the power produced by our own fire, or even how we control the flames itself. Any dragon can breathe fire, but a truly skilled dragon mage candivideher life’s fire into multiple tongues. Perhaps even move those flames around without letting any of them go out.”
Marci bit her lip. “That sounds kind of risky.”
“Of course it’s risky,” Amelia said. “It’s dragon magic! We’re always playing with fire. But the bigger the danger, the greater the payout, and when it comes to dividing life fire, the potential reward is huge. Usually, if your fire goes out, it’s game over. But if you’ve divided that fire intotwoflames, and one goes kaput, there’s a good chance you could reignite yourself from the other.”
“You mean bring yourself back from the dead?” Marci asked.
“That’s not entirely accurate,” Svena cut in. “For all the allegories, dragon fire isn’tactuallyfire. If I divide my flame in two, I don’t suddenly have two of me. It’s still only half a fire, which means only half the magic, and with no body to act as fuel, there’s no guarantee the split fire wouldn’t just sputter out and die.”
“Unless you’ve put it somewhere safe,” Amelia said, beaming at Marci. “With someone responsible who’s going to take care of it. That way, even if you did tragically die, you’d still have a backup. Part of you would still be alive, and like I said, so long as one ember survives, a tenacious dragon will always find a way to cling to life.”
Svena still didn’t look convinced, but Marci was finally starting to understand. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You want me to hold half of your life’s fire so you can reignite yourself if you die?”
“Pretty much,” Amelia said, turning to grin at Svena. “I told you she was a smart cookie!”
“Too bad the same can’t be said for you,” Svena growled, rising from her chair. “This is madness, Amelia. Everything I’ve told you about this is still just theory. We don’t yet know for certain if a life’s fire even can be safely split, because no one’s been willing to take the risk to actually test it. Even if it did work, and the mortalcoulduse your fire to bring you back to life, you’d still be left with only half a fire as translated through a human.”
“Better than losing it all,” Amelia pointed out. “We’re talking about potentially bringing me back from the dead, here. I’m willing to take a hit for that.”
“Whoa, wait a second,” Marci said, putting up her hands. “Are you planning on dying?”
“Of course I’m notplanningon dying,” Amelia said. “But only an idiot doesn’t have a worst-case contingency lined up.”
That made sense to Marci, but there was one thing she still didn’t understand. “Why me?” she asked, looking at Amelia. “I get what you’re trying to do here, but I’m hardly an expert in dragon magic. I’m not even your human.”
“Actually, given what you’ve been through over the last few weeks, I’d say you have more experience with dragon magic than most human mages could ever hope to acquire,” Amelia said. “But that’s just bonus. I picked you for this job for the same reason I tried to recruit you on the beach: I like you. Other dragons look down on humans because you’re short lived and have no power of your own. They see your ability to pull and move magic around as mooching at best, parasitic at worst, but what they don’t get is howstrongthat makes you. Dragons might look scary, but our power is limited by age and upbringing and even how much magic our mothers deigned to invest in us at birth. But your magic,humanmagic, is limited only by how much power you can handle. For some mages, that’s not much, but you?” She smirked. “I’ve fed you magic, Marci. I know how big a pot you can handle, and that’s what I want for my fire. I also like that you’ve already demonstrated your ability to keep Ghost healthy and in line. If you can hold a spirit like him, keeping my fire should be a cake-walk. That’s my bet, anyway, but I’ve gambled on you before and won. I have no problem putting my magic where my mouth is again.”
“I do,” Svena said, glowering. “This isn’t funny anymore, Amelia. You’re seriously talking about trusting part of your immortal life to amortal. The plan is doomed by definition.”
“I was never trying to be funny,” Amelia argued. “It’s not like she’s going to die tomorrow! And I already said this was a temporary thing. The moment I’m certain I don’t need the insurance anymore, I’ll take it back.”
“How long is temporary?” Marci asked. “And what would happen to me during all of this? You just compared me keeping your fire to my bond with Ghost. That’s a pretty big commitment.”
“It is,” Amelia admitted. “But you’ll actually be getting the sweet end of this deal. You see, even after I put part of my life’s fire in you, it’s still going to be generating magic, which means you’ll basically be walking around with a magical generator inside your chest. It’ll be like have your very own mini-dragon on tap whenever you need.”
