by Resa Nelson
The empress sat up next to him and placed a serious grip on his arm. “I dreamed about the need for a demon queller.”
Emperor Po sat still. No one in the royal family took dreams lightly. Although the family boasted no true prophet at this time, there had been many in past years. Nearly everyone in the royal family had the occasional dream come true.
His wife was no exception. Just last year she’d had a dream that predicted the gender of their newest son as well as his birthdate.
“A demon queller,” Emperor Po said. “It’s been two hundred years since Zangcheen has encountered a demon.”
“I saw one in my dreams,” the empress said. “The astrologer can tell us if the demon is real or not. And if we need to find a queller.”
The thought worried Emperor Po. According to his family’s history records, the only successful demon quellers had come from the Po family—and those quellers had all come with the power of portents.
If there truly is a demon, we have no quellers. No one in the Po family has portents. We might as well be living in the dark.
“We should go to the astrologer now,” Emperor Po said. “The fewer who see us in the palace halls, the better.”
The empress wasted no time getting dressed. Few people—especially those in the extended Po family that lived inside the massive palace—knew the astrologer kept quarters there as well. All emperors knew to keep the secret of the astrologer’s existence. If found out, the astrologer would be inundated with people wanting to know their futures.
After all, knowledge of one’s future could be very powerful. In the early years of the Po Dynasty, a distant relative gained access to the royal astrologer. The family histories claimed that the knowledge gained from the astrologer led that distant relative to murder the emperor, his own flesh and blood.
Emperor Renzong Po would never give any of his kin the opportunity to do the same.
He held his wife’s hand while they trod quietly through the maze of hallways in the royal palace. Fortunately, this early in the morning they encountered few servants. No one saw them enter the hallway that led to the royal astrologer’s quarters.
After Emperor Po gave a soft rap on the door, it opened minutes later to reveal a young man dressed in long robes. He blinked in surprise. “My emperor. My empress.”
“I need your services,” the empress whispered.
The astrologer flung his door open wide. “Of course. Come in.”
The walls and ceiling of his quarters were painted in a deep blue and dotted with white bursts. It gave the appearance of being surrounded by the night sky and stars. The breeze coming through the astrologer’s open windows stirred hanging chimes that rang with soft music. Sweet burning incense overwhelmed any scent that the breeze might have carried.
“How can I help?” the astrologer said. He gestured for the royal couple to sit and then took a seat across from them. A low table separated them.
On top of that table stood a complex arrangement of nesting brass hoops that formed the shape of a globe. Each hoop had a rough finish and looked like an earring fashioned for a giant. Together, they looked like circles within circles that form in a pond when a rock is tossed into the water. The astrologer inserted a key into the base of the globe and wound it. With a clicking sound, the hoops turned in opposition to each other, reflecting the light from a narrow sunbeam that penetrated the room and casting that light in many directions.
“I had a dream,” the empress said. “A nightmare. I think I saw a demon.”
“I see,” the young astrologer said. “Tell me what happened in your dream.”
The empress took a deep breath as if to steady herself. “I saw another country. It looked very different from any place I’ve seen in the Far East. I saw no mountains, only a few low hills. I saw great fields of grass and towns with small houses made of stone.”
“Stone,” her husband said. “I’ve heard they have houses of stone in the Northlands and Southlands.”
“Go on,” the astrologer said.
The empress frowned and strained to recall the dream. “I saw a hopping frog, and I followed it into a very large field. The frog stopped and flicked its tongue up toward the sky to catch a bug.” She shuddered. “That’s when the most peculiar thing happened. The frog and the bug it caught turned to stone and iron. They grew and grew until they became a mansion.”
“A mansion?” Emperor Po said. “How is that the work of a demon?”
“Please,” the astrologer said. “I would like her to finish telling me about the dream.”
The empress gave a sharp look to her husband and then faced the astrologer again. “The door of the mansion opened, and I walked inside. I found it to be a most peculiar place. Its walls and floors were made of stone, and I felt cold in every room I entered. All the rooms were empty until I came to the last one. Strange people with pale skin and paler hair filled it. They stood like giants and held great daggers like swords. A man with the face of a wolf snarled at me. Another man said words I didn’t understand and pointed at the middle of the room. A great tapestry lifted up in the air of its own will. Its threads burned so bright that they hurt my eyes.”
“Magic,” the astrologer said.
“Yes!” the empress said. “I felt great magic all around me. And then a dragon entered the room. But instead of welcoming the dragon and honoring it, all the men circled around it with their great daggers and began to stab at it as if they meant to kill it!”
The nesting brass hoops slowed and then came to a stop. Immediately, they began to turn in opposing directions.
The empress gasped at the sight.
Emperor Po pointed at it. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing to worry about.” The astrologer perched on the edge of his seat to examine the spinning hoops forming the globe. “It’s rare that they turn on their own.” He pointed at a squat candle impaled on a spindle in the hollow center of the globe. “Normally it’s the heat from the flame that makes them spin.”
Metal scraped against metal. Rods as thin as needles flipped up from the square brass base, sporting stars and tailed comets made of finely pounded tin.
The nested hoops moved horizontally, diagonally, vertically, and at every angle in between. The hoops spun faster with every rotation. The polished brass surfaces caught the pale morning light coming through the windows and cast it in all directions like tiny bolts of lightning. The stars and comets surrounding the globe trembled.
The candle beneath the hoops burst into flame of its own accord. Images flickered inside the hollow globe while its hoops spun faster. Those images formed the shape of a demon with outstretched arms and long clawed hands.
Another image took shape at its feet. A little girl offered her hand to the demon.
With a loud pop, the flame extinguished. The images of the little girl and the demon vanished, and the hoops slowed until they stopped spinning.
“I don’t understand,” Emperor Po said. “What does it mean?”
“Am I right in believing there are currently no members of the Po family who can serve as demon quellers?” the astrologer said.
“Why ask?” the emperor said in frustration. “Everyone knows it’s true.”
The empress thwacked her husband’s arm with the back of her hand. “The astrologer only means to help.” Turning her attention to the astrologer, she said, “It’s true. No one in our family has the ability to see portents.”
“Your dream suggests there is a demon in another country, and it may never come to the Far East. But I believe there will come to be a girl child in the Po family who can quell this demon should the need arise.”
“Should the need arise?” the emperor said in dismay. “What if the demon attacks the Far East before this girl child is born? How are we supposed to protect our people? What can we do?”
The astrologer gestured toward the globe of brass hoops. “I saw no problem. I believe the demon queller will come to exist when we need her. Unti
l then, the demon will be the problem of other countries, not ours.” He sat back in his chair. “But if you’re concerned, maybe you should speak to your magician.”
“I’d rather consult our dragon,” the empress said.
“Fiera?” Emperor Po said. “Best to let sleeping dragons lie. She’s rarely awake until noon.”
The empress stood and crossed her arms. “You forget the tradition of consultation because you depend on her every day in court. You’re used to Fiera’s legal consultations. But remember the old saying: If you encounter a waking dragon with a question in your heart, ask for help. But if that dragon sleeps, it means there is no need to ask.” She paused. “That means if Fiera is awake, we have a problem. But if she’s still sleeping, it means the astrologer is right: the demon will leave the Far East alone for now, and a demon queller will rise in our family in time for its future arrival.”
Emperor Po stood and gave a brief nod to the astrologer. “I thank you for your help, especially at this early hour of day. We’ll leave you in peace.”
Taking his wife’s hand, he walked out of the astrologer’s quarters and into the hallway.
“I’m not asking for the moon,” the empress said. “Seeing her will give me peace of mind.”
Emperor Po knew that once his wife wanted something, it was in his best interest to appease her. “Alright. But don’t disturb her. We have no right to ask her to do anything other than help with court cases.”
The empress smiled. “Seeing her will be enough.”
They wound their way through the maze of hallways inside the palace and then stepped outside to walk into the royal complex in the soft light of dawn.
The elegant complex sprawled behind a stone wall low enough to allow all to gaze upon its splendor. Within each corner of the complex, an ornate stone tower anchored the wall. Guards stood at attention within each tower to protect the complex.
Lush gardens and ponds surrounded the royal palace made of golden walls. Just one story high, its angular roof was made of red clay tiles.
A sleeping dragon rested on the roof tiles. Its scales gleamed like gold in the light of dawn.
“Better?” Emperor Po said to his wife.
She smiled. “Much. And you? Will you believe your own astrologer now?”
Emperor Po watched the dragon. “She has never steered us wrong. She’d know if a demon posed a threat. She’d warn us.” He took his wife’s hand.
* * *
The royal magician felt anxious. First, he’d been startled by the early-morning and unexpected arrival of the Emperor and Empress Po at his doorstep. Even though the royal magician resided inside the royal palace, the emperor typically scheduled their meetings in advance. “Let sleeping dragons lie?”
“Yes,” the empress said. “Just like we never disturb the Imperial Dragon when she’s resting on our rooftop. If we resist stirring up trouble, there may be no trouble to be had.” She smiled at her husband. “The royal astrologer agrees.”
Of course, he would. Coward.
The magician did his best to hide his true feelings. He had no use for the royal astrologer, but Emperor Po had a soft spot for him. The magician had learned he could get his way easier with sweet words than with sour ones. “All will be well and good if other countries continue to leave us alone. But what about the demon?
“Between the astrologer and the tradition of seeking a dragon’s advice, I’m satisfied,” Emperor Po said. “I have faith that a demon queller will be born into the Po family by the time we need one.”
Astrologers. Traditions. Whatever happened to common sense?
The royal magician didn’t dare speak his true thoughts. The most important thing to understand about the Po Dynasty was that it came with a myriad of laws. The Law of Obedience to the Emperor, whose offense was punishable by public humiliation followed by drowning. The Law of Speaking in Harmony with the Emperor—failure to comply resulted in being whipped by ten guards. And worst of all, breaking the Law of Allegiance to Emperor and City was the severest transgression. Punishment required a public beating followed by the Death of 1000 Cuts.
How do I get the emperor to understand how dangerous his failure to act is for the citizens of Zangcheen? For all citizens of the Wulong Province? Maybe even for all of the Far East?
“My emperor,” the royal magician said with a most respectful bow. “I understand the precautions you take. I can’t help but wonder if these precautions are perfect.”
When Emperor Po spoke, his voice took an edge. “What do you mean?”
Before answering, the magician took a seat, making sure to sit below the eye level of his rulers as an act of reverence. “Such precautions may be accurate most of the time. But can we be certain they are impeccably accurate all of the time?”
“You think the astrologer is wrong?” the empress said. Her face strained with suspicion. “And that Fiera—the Imperial Dragon—would fail to alert us if we’re in danger?”
The magician resisted the urge to sneer.
That dragon on the rooftop is nothing more than a pet that’s been tamed and coddled.
The magician paid good mind to making his voice sound as soothing as honey. “Not at all, my empress. All I mean is that once in a while—once in a great, rare while—unforeseen circumstances can change the future at a moment so late in time that it leaves no time to react. I believe such an event to be so infrequent that it’s easy to ignore. But is it wise to ignore a possibility that could destroy an entire nation?”
“You speak about the absolute worst thing that could happen,” the empress said.
The magician could have wept with relief.
Finally! They understand.
“Yes, my empress! That’s exactly what I mean.”
Emperor Po drummed his fingers against his knee. “And what would you suggest to prepare for the worst thing that could happen?”
Energized with fresh hope, the magician said, “Send word to all villages throughout the Wulong Province. Recruit all young men to come to Zangcheen and train as warriors. Then send them to guard our borders.”
The emperor studied his fingernails. “And what if the worst never comes to pass? What will happen while all of those young men spend wasted years guarding quiet borders?”
The question confused the magician. “They will protect us.”
“Am I correct that you’ve lived nowhere other than the royal palace?”
The magician fumbled to answer. “You are correct.”
The emperor sat back and rubbed his forehead as if it ached. “The vast population of our province live in the countryside, not the city of Zangcheen. They are farmers. They depend on their young sons to sow new crops and tend them. They need the strength of their sons for every harvest. If we take their sons away, crops will fail. Or lie fallow from lack of seeding or weeding or harvesting.”
The magician’s mind raced for a solution. “Couldn’t they plan now and set aside any extra food for the future?”
“They don’t grow crops for themselves alone,” the emperor said. “Much of the harvest comes here to Zangcheen. To the royal palace. Including your plate.”
The magician’s heart sank in disappointment at what he’d failed to consider.
The emperor and empress stood in preparation of leaving the magician’s quarters. “I wanted to speak to you for the sake of extra precaution,” Emperor Po said, “but you’ve made me realize how correct the empress has been with her advice.”
His words distressed the magician.
The previous emperor never allowed his wife to voice her opinion. Why can’t Emperor Po follow in his father’s footsteps? He’s letting the empress ruin everything. He’s failing to see logic because he’s listening to her superstitions instead.
“Maybe there’s a better solution,” the magician said. He stood and angled to place his body between his rulers and his doorway. “Something simpler and less demanding of our resources.”
Emperor Po paused. “What
do you have in mind?”
The magician’s mind raced to consider the possibilities and beamed at the practicality of one thought. “Merchants.”
The empress frowned. “Merchants? There’s no trade outside the Far East.”
“Precisely,” the magician said. “What if we recruit a handful of merchants who sell the finest wares: silk cloth, the best spices, jewelry of jade and gold? What if you command them to present themselves as renegades who have left the Far East and trade without permission? They could travel throughout the Midlands, Northlands, and even the Southlands if need be. They could learn enough of each language to listen to the conversations of others who might speak about a demon and where it can be found. They could search for the strange house of which my empress speaks—the house shaped like a toad catching a fly above its head.”
“A few men instead of thousands,” Emperor Po said. “That is a solution I can consider.”
“If the predictions are correct, there is nothing to lose,” the magician said. “The merchants will profit from selling their wares, and you will profit from anything they might learn about these foreign countries.” He smiled. “And if the absolute worst should happen, the merchants can flee back to Zangcheen and give us ample warning of the demon sent by those foreigners with the hope of destroying us.”
“I’m convinced,” Emperor Po said. “Tomorrow I will send word throughout Zangcheen that the royal palace seeks merchants to apply for a special task.”
The empress placed a delicate hand on her husband’s arm. “Will mortal help be enough?”
Emperor Po pondered her question for a moment. “That’s a good point. Tomorrow I’ll send word to recruit the merchants who will infiltrate foreign lands, but this morning I’ll go to the Temple of Dark and Light and pray to the Mighty Emperor for help.”
The magician refrained from responding. He knew Emperor Po believed in an unseen emperor who ruled the realm of the gods, a world existing alongside the mortal world but invisible to it.
But the magician believed in no such being and no such realm.