by Resa Nelson
The red tiles rattled when the air plopped Pingzi onto them.
Am I dreaming? How can this be possible?
“It’s time,” the invisible woman said. “I’ve brought her.”
With a start, Pingzi looked over her shoulder to see the Imperial Dragon sleeping just behind her on the same red tiles. Sometimes the Imperial Dragon slept on the roof of the palace, but the emperor sometimes needed the dragon’s help in deciding true justice for the people who asked for his help. Whenever the emperor held court, the Imperial Dragon tended to sleep on the rooftop above him.
The Imperial Dragon stirred and opened one eye, its color as bright and yellow as flame. “I’m busy sleeping. Let’s say it’s time tomorrow.”
The air swirled around the Imperial Dragon. When Pingzi looked closely, she could make out the figure of a transparent woman standing by the dragon’s nose. “Tomorrow will be too late. The girl is needed now or all could be lost.”
The Imperial Dragon let loose a great sigh. “I say let them all die. They’ve got their own gods. It’s no business of ours if they ignore their gods to the point where those gods want to abandon them. Let them kill each other. Let the world kill them for their foolishness.”
“And what if it spills into the Far East?” the woman made of air said. “What about the people who depend on us?”
“Bother,” the Imperial Dragon said. “It’s all such a bother.” It raised its head and opened both eyes. It pointed with its nose at Pingzi. “Is this the one? This little thing?”
Everything that Pingzi had ever learned about being respectful to a dragon escaped her in that moment. She sat up tall, even when a loose red tile shifted beneath one hand. “I’m not so little!”
The Imperial Dragon crawled across the red-tile roof until it placed its cold and slimy nose against Pingzi’s nose. “Don’t little ones want to stay close to their mothers? To stay at home where it’s safe?”
The dragon’s breath felt warm against Pingzi’s skin.
Torn between fright and excitement, Pingzi said, “The emperor’s children do. Not me. I hate the royal palace. It’s boring!”
“Are you bold enough,” the Imperial Dragon said, “to say that to the emperor’s face?”
Pingzi sensed this moment could define the rest of her life. It could mean having to spend all her life in the palace—or it could mean the freedom from it that she craved. “Yes!”
The Imperial Dragon curled its tail around Pingzi in a tight embrace and then leapt from the rooftop to the ground below where it landed with a thud. The dragon relaxed its tail and let Pingzi stand on her own feet.
Free from the dragon’s grip, Pingzi followed it into the Hall of Justice and its court room.
The emperor sat on his simple throne at the far end of the room, bedecked in his glorious yellow robes made of silk and embroidered with scenes of ancient battle.
A young man stood before the emperor and pled his case against his new wife, who refused to cook his favorite meal.
The Imperial Dragon roared.
The young man fell silent. Everyone in the court room turned to look at the Imperial Dragon and Pingzi Po.
Emperor Po stood. “What is this?”
The Imperial Dragon looked at Pingzi. “They don’t understand me. Translate.”
Once more, Pingzi wondered if she might be dreaming, but she didn’t want to offend the Imperial Dragon if this was no dream. She nodded her agreement.
“Why are you nodding?” the emperor demanded. “What is this about?”
The Imperial Dragon growled in response, but Pingzi understood its words and repeated them for the emperor.
“I am your cousin, Pingzi Po. I experienced my first portent today, and it took me to the Imperial Dragon.” Pingzi paused to bow toward the creature. “The Imperial Dragon informs me that I am the Demon Queller you’ve been waiting for.”
“Demon Queller,” Emperor Po said. “I remember hearing about one many years ago when there was speculation about a possible war with other countries.”
Again, Pingzi listened to the dragon and repeated its words. “Yes. You sent merchants abroad to look for signs of war. But dragon gods and goddesses of the Far East saw your concern, and they created a place where they could spy upon these other countries and make sure they meant us no harm.”
Everyone in the court room began talking at once at this revelation.
“Quiet!” the emperor said. “What does this have to do with demons?”
Pingzi continued. “While there is no threat of war, a particular demon has come to the attention of the dragon gods. If not quelled, this demon could bring about events that could destroy the entire world. Including us.”
The commotion increased so loudly in the court room that the emperor ended court hearings for the day and dismissed everyone who had come to plead a case. When they left, the room contained only the emperor, Pingzi, the Imperial Dragon, and the royal guards.
“What do you want?” the emperor said. “Why did you come here?”
At first Pingzi hesitated to repeat the dragon’s response because it made her feel awkward. But she didn’t dare refuse to obey the powerful and honorable creature. “You must understand my importance,” Pingzi said. “You must give me whatever I require to quell the demon.”
“Young cousin,” the emperor said. “You must understand my importance. You may be my blood family, but I am still your emperor!”
The Imperial Dragon roared again. The animal twisted and turned upon itself until it shifted into a large cloud of smoke. A woman emerged from the smoke. Her skin shone alabaster white, and her long black hair curled and intertwined with the smoke. Sparks danced across her shoulders. The color of flame, her gown swirled around her legs. Orange, red, and yellow gems sparkled across the gown's bodice and high standing collar. “Emperor Renzong Po,” she said, “you must understand my importance. You may be this country’s ruler, but I am the dragon goddess of fire.”
The royal guards sank to their knees in reverence.
Emperor Po eased back on his throne. “Fiera,” he whispered.
“How many years have I helped this court as the Imperial Dragon?” Fiera said. “How many times have I decided cases when your people challenged your ruling? Or the ruling of your father? Or the ruling of his father before him?”
The dragon goddess walked toward the emperor.
Not knowing what else to do, Pingzi stood in place and watched.
“You mortals,” Fiera said in disgust. “Such petty cases placed before you. What is wrong with you people? So quick to hurt each other when helping would be just as easy.”
Emperor Po dropped to his knees. “My goddess, please.”
“Please what?” Fiera’s expression of revulsion turned into a wicked smile. “Let you reconsider the fact that this demon queller has the power to protect this entire nation from being destroyed? I’m not so sure any of you are worth it.”
A warm wind whipped past Pingzi and made her pigtails fly up.
The wind carried white flowers that must have fallen from the apple trees outside. The flowers swirled and formed the shape of a woman standing between Fiera and the emperor. The rest of the wind whistled and thrashed throughout the court room.
Pingzi thought she heard the invisible woman shaped by flowers speak, but Pingzi didn’t understand what the magical being said.
Fiera crossed her arms. “Maybe we should be as impatient and self-centered as the rest of the gods in this world,” she said, as if answering a question. “Why not make things easier for us instead of easier for the mortals?”
The wind whistled louder, and the room shook as if it might be blown apart at any moment.
“Alright!” Fiera shouted. “Agreed. This little girl—this Pingzi Po—will be the last chance we give them. If they fail to let her quell the demon, then they have no right to ask their gods for anything and we will have no further obligation to help them.”
The wind stopped.
The flowers forming the shape of a woman drifted to the floor in front of Fiera’s feet.
Silence filled the court room.
“Now then,” Fiera said to Emperor Po, who still knelt and now trembled. “We’ll be needing a ship and some of those guards.”
CHAPTER 26
A few years later, Benzel felt as if he’d been knocked down by a horse and dragged by it throughout the entire Northlands. Every day he woke up exhausted. Every morning a sense of hopelessness washed over him. Every night he wished he’d been the one who had died.
And now—with the village of Hidden Glen coming into view—Benzel wished he had never lived.
He’d been happy, and it was only the memory of that happiness that convinced him to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
That and his infant son that the alchemist Thurid carried in her arms on the front seat of the cart in which Benzel rode.
“Is that it?” her husband Claude asked Benzel.
“That’s it,” Benzel said. The memory of his spiteful parting with Snip so many decades ago haunted him. He trembled at the thought of seeing his sister again. He was desperate to be in her company again and terrified she’d reject him.
Riding through the village, it came as no surprise to see so few people. Most villagers were out working the surrounding crops and wouldn’t return until sunset.
A white-haired woman approached the cart. “Benzel?”
Claude reined the horse drawing the cart to halt.
Benzel climbed out of the cart and recognized the woman, who’d lived in the house next door. “Yes.” He pointed to the fields. “Isn’t my uncle too old to be out in the crops? I don’t see him in town.”
“None of your family lives here anymore,” the woman said. She eyed the cart when the infant cried. “Whose child is that?”
Benzel tensed. Too late, he hoped the woman wouldn’t notice.
No one can know the truth.
“My grandchild,” Thurid lied. “We’re looking for a more peaceful place to live, and Benzel thought we might like it here in Hidden Glen.”
“You said my family doesn’t live here,” Benzel said to his former neighbor. Dread filled him.
Did Sven kill them all?
“They went to Tower Island.”
It took a moment for Benzel to comprehend what she said. “Tower Island? No one lives there.”
“They do now.” The woman kept a steady eye on Benzel. “Ever since the Scaldings took it back. Sven convinced your people to go there with him.”
“Including Snip?”
The woman nodded. “They always wondered about you. Wondered if you were living or dead. Especially Snip. That girl cried a lot of tears over you.”
The weight on his heart made Benzel think he would drop dead on the spot. It was all too much.
Meeting the one woman who made him experience a love he never dreamed could exist.
Learning she’d become pregnant.
Remembering the bargain struck with the Northlander gods through Thurid, and plotting with her to find a way to keep from turning over his child to those gods as payment for their help in finding the berserkers.
Discovering true helplessness when Rayna died in childbirth.
Hating their newborn son for killing his mother and then finding himself awash with love for the child because Rayna was part of him.
And now, depending on the kindness of friends to find a way to protect his only child.
It’s impossible. I either give my child to the gods or to the Scaldings.
Which is worse?
Knowing Snip still lived gave Benzel hope. If he could trust anyone in this world to raise his child in secret, it had to be Snip.
She wouldn’t understand why Benzel had to hide, and he couldn’t tell her about his bargain with the gods because Snip now belonged to the very berserkers who had slaughtered their families.
How could she understand that Benzel had to hide in order to keep the gods from finding out that the son he’d promised to give them had been born?
“Well,” Claude said, fiddling with the reins. “What do you want to do?”
Before Benzel could answer, the white-haired woman said, “That’s odd.” She pointed at the sky behind him. “It’s been clear all day. Funny that a storm should darken the skies so soon.”
Benzel didn’t have to look back. A storm had followed them since they left Bellesguard. Thurid worried that the gods were behind it.
We have to move quickly, or the gods will find me and take my child away.
* * *
Days later, Benzel stood on the Northlander shore and stared at the distant Tower Island. They’d acquired a small ship from a fisherman in a coastal town and sailed to this spot.
“I can’t go,” Benzel said. He rested one hand on the pommel of his dagger, tucked under his belt. He also wore the Scalding sword he’d been given decades ago on that island, as well as Rayna’s dragonslayer sword strapped diagonally across his back. “If I go, I’ll kill them all.”
Thurid held his sleeping child in her arms. “No one on that island will agree to take this child if we’re the ones that ask. You have to come with us. Control yourself. Remember this is for the child’s sake, not yours.”
“Snip must hate me. If she sees me, she won’t take my child.” Benzel shook his head in frustration. “The last time I saw her, she was pregnant with her first child. She’s already raised so many of her own that she won’t want mine.”
Thurid cleared her throat. “Her first child died at birth. As did the ones that followed.”
Benzel looked at Thurid in astonishment. “Snip never had a child to raise?”
“Not until now. Snip and Sven had a surprise baby late in life. That child is now a toddler.” Thurid softened her tone. “If you ask Snip to take your son, I think she’ll be happy to have another child in her home.”
She’s right. I have to try. Otherwise, how will my son survive?
“This is one thing I can do to help,” Thurid said. “I have plenty of thrush-foot moss with me. If they’re decent hosts, they’ll invite us to dinner. I’ll slip it into their food.”
“What good will that do?” Benzel said.
“It’ll turn the eyes of any murderers lavender.”
“Isn’t it too late?”
“Not for the rest of the world.” Thurid smiled. “We’ll spread the word that anyone with lavender eyes is a Scalding. A murderer. The Scaldings will be marked for generations to come.”
With Thurid and Claude accompanying him, Benzel sailed his only child across the sea to Tower Island. Someone on the island must have spotted the ship as it sailed, because it seemed that most of the Scaldings who lived on Tower Island surrounded the dock by the time the ship reached it.
Benzel steadied his thoughts before climbing over the ship’s rail. He stared at the faces of the people he’d devoted a lifetime to hunting.
Fury burned in Benzel’s soul.
The Scaldings have to pay for what they did to my parents. Those monsters have to pay for killing my blood sister before she was born. They have to pay for killing my village and Snip’s, as well.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. The same storm that had dogged Benzel for weeks had caught up once again.
Benzel looked up at the sky in fear, worried the Northlander gods would descend and take his son.
None of the Northlander gods were all-knowing. But many of them were clever enough to detect mortal plans and thwart them.
Benzel knew he’d never have this opportunity again. Armed with a dagger, a Scalding short sword, and a dragonslayer sword, he could probably kill a lot of Scaldings before they could murder him.
He stepped onto the wooden dock with a heavy step.
“Benzel!” Snip shouted as she ran toward him. Stopping within arm’s reach, she slapped his face with all her might. “How dare you leave me? You promised!”
The sting of her slap shook Benzel to the core.
The sight of the Scaldings surrounding him faded away. All he saw was Snip, who now heaved with sobs.
She doesn’t know why. She doesn’t know that Thurid helped me bargain with our gods. She doesn’t know I promised my first-born child because I never wanted to have children and thought I wouldn’t have to uphold my end of the bargain. She doesn’t know how I found my wife and that I have a son.
“I’m sorry, Snip,” Benzel said. “I meant to come back. I meant my promise when I made it.”
“Don’t give me excuses!” Snip shouted. She balled her fists and pounded them against his chest. “I don’t care about excuses!”
Her pain stung Benzel harder and deeper than the slap she’d given him. In the breadth of a second, he saw a different life he could have had with Snip if he’d made different choices.
“I love you, sister,” Benzel said. He wrapped his arms around Snip and pulled her close to his chest. He spoke so only she could hear. “I made mistakes. I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant to do that.”
Benzel wanted to tell her that it was the fault of the Scaldings and that he’d hunted them because he wanted to protect all of the Northlands from them.
But no Scalding had ever harmed anyone in the Northlands since the day they destroyed the villages of Heatherbloom and Bubblebrook.
For a moment, Benzel wondered if he’d claimed he wanted to protect the Northlands as some sort of excuse.
Shaking off that thought, he held Snip tight. “I have a son. If I raise him, it puts his life in danger. He needs a place where he can be safe.”
Snip tried to push out of Benzel’s grip, but he kept her close. “What is wrong with you?” she said, still in tears. “You abandon me? And then the only reason you come back is because you want something from me?”
“Need,” Benzel said. He loosened his grip enough to ease back and look into her eyes. “My son is like us, Snip. Because of me, he has no home. No village. If you don’t take him, the gods will.”
His words startled Snip so much that she stopped crying. “The gods?” she whispered.