Traveling to the Elemental Plane of Fire is never easy for a human. Not only are the physical protections for traveling there even less effective than those for Earth, Air, and Water, but the plane itself seems to be partly aligned with the Outer Plane of Hell, so evil seeps readily into it.
Friends among the Djinn have told me that the common ancestors of the Djinni and Ifrits came from “elsewhere” to the Realm of Planes, our realm. Well, ours in the sense that all humans are influenced by it to some extent, and that a few of us can travel among the planes—again, to some extent.
When those ancestors came, some settled the Plane of Air and others the Plane of Fire. At first the difference meant little to them, for the whole Realm of Planes was quite strange and different from their homeland. But with time they adapted to their new surroundings. Those in the Plane of Air became Djinn while those in the Plane of Fire became Ifrits.
With time the people of the two planes grew apart from each other. Now the Djinn and Ifrits consider themselves each others’ cousins at best, not brothers who happen to live in different neighborhoods. Part of the reason is that the Ifrits have become like their plane—as capricious as Djinn but without their good nature. Yet, evil as they might be, and harsh as their plane is to humans, it was there I had the best chance of finding a suitable intermediary for dealing with the formidable creature of my cave.
I set forth.
* * *
The flames of the Elemental Plane of Fire are as varied as fireworks. There are reds, yellows, and oranges aplenty, but whites, blues, and greens are mixed in, too, even the occasional purple. As in the Plane of Air, I stood on no surface but simply floated, admiring the color-show. Soon the young, playful elementals who helped me with my dragon machine came to greet me.
“We are here!” they said, trying to touch my beard and singe it. Even so young, their play is definitely rougher than elementals’ of other planes; the Plane of Fire is not a place to travel unwarily. My shield held them off and I laughed. They pretended to scowl.
“You are here, but it is not the right time on the Material Plane,” I said.
Nonetheless, I handed out the goldfish that I had brought, and the young elementals squealed in delight. Sense of time is not strong in that plane, but remembrance of reward is. I always bring plenty of gifts to the plane, and fish are highly prized.
On the Plane of Fire there is a city of Ifrits, as there is a city of Djinn on the Plane of Air. But while I have friends in the city of the Djinn, I seek outcasts from the city of the Ifrits, for it is a place of intense evil. I was at the edge of the realm, where fire admixes with smoke, not an area favored by the Ifrits, but where a few take refuge—those who can’t tolerate the norms of the Ifrits. Some outcasts are even wilder and more evil than the average Ifrit, and those are intensely dangerous to me. But I sought one outcast because he was less steeped in wickedness. Ifrit are sensitive to slights, with a long memory for vengeance. In my adventures, I had inadvertently helped this Ifrit settle some scores, and now I would call in the favor.
“Ifrit Zaneem!” I called out as I approached its habitation. There was no answer. Some of the young elementals were still with me, and I sent them to look for Zaneem. Sometime later, it came floating out of a nearby smoke forest to greet me, in the shape of a campfire flame run amok. I returned Zaneem’s greeting and offered it a large green-shelled lobster. It had not seen one before. Transforming into a more human shape, it grasped my gift, and the heat of its hand cooked the sea-creature into a red-shelled delicacy.
“You know my love of novelty, my Baron,” it smiled, “and you give me another surprise from the Prime Material. Now, what brings you to my humble part of the world?”
The Ifrit’s voice was warm and pleasant, and perhaps it should not have disturbed me that I could never decide whether it was a contralto or a tenor. I pushed the thought aside.
“I have a matter that concerns a Dragon who lairs on the Prime Material near my domain. I would like you to act as intermediary.”
“Why me?”
“This is a Red Dragon.”
“Umm … formidable, indeed. Those Reds who still lair on your plane are the most worldly, facing danger every day and hardened by it, the most experienced in dealing with threats. Whenever they come to the Plane of Fire, they are treated with the utmost respect by the other inhabitants here. It is wise for you to seek an intermediary. Who is this Red?”
“I don’t know. I’ve faced off against her for years, but never got close enough to learn her name,” I said.
“She will certainly know yours, so we must learn hers.” Zaneem waved up a minor elemental and talked with it briefly; it scurried off.
“What would you have me ask this Red to do?” inquired the Ifrit.
“Leave her lair. Find a new one, far away.”
“Sounds simple enough to communicate. So the question then becomes: Why should she do it?”
“Mankind in the area is changing, advancing. Her lair is no longer safe. It will not be safe for the children she is about to raise.”
“You speak of her benefits. What about those for you?”
“For me?” I paused, and decided the simple truth was fine. “For me it is an affair of the heart: There are women involved.”
“Women, you say! Then you are fighting for something worthwhile. My fellow Ifrits are slow to understand the ways of strangers, but I know that for you Prime Material Humankind-Beings, women are always worth fighting for! … True?”
“Always!” I said with a grin.
The little elemental scurried back and reported to Zaneem. Turning to me, the Ifrit said, “Well, then. She is Queen Almidahl. Let us be about this business!”
“Most gladly,” I said. “I will return to the Prime Material Plane and summon you through. You can go into the lair and we can begin our discussions.”
“Enter the lair of a strange Red on the Prime Material? No, thank you!” It was the Ifrit’s turn to grin. “She is as dangerous to me there as to you. No, we shall invite her to come here, to neutral ground, the Elemental Plane of Fire.”
“This is hardly neutral ground!” I snorted.
“Like you, she spends her time on the Prime Material, right? This will be neutral ground for her, too. I will guarantee her safety from you, and yours from her.”
“Will she come?”
“As you say on your plane, ‘Polite words open iron gates.’ Did I get that right?”
“You did, Ifrit Zaneem. Your knowledge is wide, indeed.” The Ifrit looked pleased; it definitely enjoyed flattery.
Time does not flow equally on the planes, so I was not surprised when an answer came back rather quickly. I would not have been surprised if it felt like months, either.
“She has consented to come, my Baron,” said the Ifrit, “but brace yourself! For you have chosen a wondrous being to request audience of!”
I did not like the sound of that at all. If Zaneem was so much in awe of this Queen Almidahl, how much of an intermediary was it going to be? But I didn’t have long to worry. She appeared just a few seconds later, saying, “So, Woman Stealer, we meet face-to-face at last.”
She was a formidable sight on that plane. On the Prime Material her coloring was subdued, or so I had heard—few humans got to see her up close and directly. Here her scales each glowed in a slightly different hue, all changing and shimmering. Her wings were large and well-developed, her eyes set deep in her imposing head. No wonder that that Champion of my early life had disappeared without a ripple. Even far from home the Queen’s power was palpable.
“Woman Stealer” she called me! Well, at least we had a conversation opener.
“Queen Dragon, we meet at last. What women do you refer to?”
“The women that my worshippers bring to me and you take away along with your peculiar machine.”
“Those of my kind that you would eat? Yes, I take them. I take them to save them.”
“Save them! Hah! You squander them, silly Human! You don’t know what you have in those women, do you? Taken properly, those women can be distilled for an Essence of Femininity that is unequaled on all the planes!”
With a leap of intuition I realized that this was an affair of the heart for both of us! For moments, I was speechless. Then I ventured, “You … are still seeking a mate, Queen Dragon?”
“Yes, Baron Human. And for years now you have been interfering with that search. So I have hexed those villages. Soon those people will blame you, drive you off, and I will get my maidens again.”
I felt some relief that Almidahl hadn’t laid eggs yet, to keep her tied to her lair, but some concern that she had the power and the will to hex the villages. And that she was a strategic political thinker, using them to manipulate their ruler. Calling her a beast was definitely stretching the word to its breaking point.
But if she was after a male, we might have something to negotiate. “Queen Dragon, I believe that your lair is no longer safe for your progeny. Don’t you agree?”
“It will be safe again, once my worshippers become strong.” She smiled. The obvious follow-through to that statement was a quick breath that left me resembling burnt toast. I held my own breath a moment … but the truce held.
“Forgive me if the question is discourteous, O Queen—but do you seek a specific mate, or will one of many do?”
“You are indeed presumptuous, Human!”
“Surely it is a harmless question, asked with the best of intentions,” the Ifrit interceded.
“And what would you know of matters of the heart, you sexless interloper into this realm?” retorted the Dragon.
“I have a heart. Right here!” Zaneem pointed to the center of its body.
“You prove my point, Ifrit. You are an unromantic fool.”
Vain of her intellect, with a tongue more stinging than a scorpion’s tail, no wonder Almidahl couldn’t find a mate. But perhaps that was not how a male Dragon would see it.
“Queen Dragon,” I said, “again forgive my necessary discourtesy: Can you raise your brood elsewhere than the lair you now have?”
“Those of my kind who have reared young on this Plane of Fire have seen them grow up as spoiled brats and dilettantes, for life is too easy here. I will not have that for my children, Human.”
“With respect, nor would any human wish that for his heirs! But surely in your wide travels in the Prime Material Plane you have seen how quickly humankind changes the landscape, and that these changes now come to our valley. Can your progeny survive their tender years there, Queen Dragon?”
Without warning the Dragon breathed fire at me. My protections against the ravages of this plane would hold off damage for a few seconds; after that, my response spell would let me escape with my life, though not undamaged. But before I could respond in any way, Zaneem resumed its pure flame shape and moved between me and the blast, absorbing the breath and becoming one with it. Zaneem’s flames became smaller and flickered more quickly, their colors brighter and more varied, gaining whole octaves and outshining all that was nearby. When the blast ceased, Zaneem staggered and its colors rippled crazily, making me think of a chameleon frenzied by drink.
Almidahl did not seem taken aback, but said regally, “I crave your pardon for that reflex, Baron Human. You did not mean to threaten my children, though at that moment I heard it so.”
And then, more regally still, “You are not foolhardy. So pledge to me that you will rule the valley as my viceroy and hold off those threatening changes for both our sakes, the changes that will harm you as surely as they harm me.
“If you agree, then at midnight on the night of the next full moon give up these last women you have stolen from me and I will accept your pledge. If you do not, I will make my—our—valley suffer in ways it has not suffered for generations of your kind.”
Without waiting for any response, Queen Almidahl flew off.
“That was a close call,” I said as I looked myself over.
“Thank you, again, Baron. You are always a surprising pleasure to work with.”
“I’m sure you’re welcome, Ifrit Zaneem. But for what?”
“For that extra treat. When an Ifrit absorbs a Dragon’s breath it becomes unusually happy and active for a while, like a Human or a hound after eating a favorite tidbit. For enraging her so, I thank you, Human Baron.
“Now I have not only seen Queen Almidahl and conversed with her,” said Zaneem proudly, “I have even tasted her breath! For a time she will have less breath than usual, but I cannot much regret that, since she is unlikely to miss it much. You are truly a serendipitous being for me, Baron Rostov!”