by Resa Nelson
The ground stirred, and the shape of a gigantic lizard emerged from it. While its scales matched the color of the rocky mountain, its eyes glowed as bright and yellow as flame.
Pingzi recognized the Imperial Dragon at once. She bowed. “My goddess Fiera.”
“We meet again, Demon Queller.” The Imperial Dragon shifted into the shape of a beautiful woman, who extended her hand. “Come with me, Mistress Pingzi of the House of Po. We have work to do.”
CHAPTER 13
Many years ago, Pingzi had met Fiera, the Goddess of Fire, when she lived in the shape of the Imperial Dragon. Pingzi knew from experience that she could trust the goddess.
Without hesitation, Pingzi accepted Fiera’s outstretched hand.
Pingzi felt no fear when the world around her turned as black as a clouded night. But moments later when that blackness dissipated to reveal a realm she’d never seen before, Pingzi felt awkward.
They stood in a busy marketplace. Hundreds of grand stone buildings fanned out before Pingzi, and she noticed that they surrounded the marketplace like spokes on a wheel. Down one of the spoke-like avenues, one building gleamed like silver.
A few men in black cloaks walked through the marketplace toward the avenue leading toward the silver building.
Pingzi started at the sight, because their bodies were made of stone, wood, and earth. Still clasping Fiera’s hand, Pingzi tightened her grip.
Fiera wrenched her hand free and waved at the strange men. “You there! Where is the All-Father?”
The men paused and stared. One of them said, “You don’t belong here.”
“I have business with your gods.” Fiera hissed, and fire flicked from her mouth.
Another man counseled his peers. “Looks like a dragon god to me. I say we keep moving.”
“Fine,” Fiera said. She brushed away a few black ashes that had landed at the corners of her mouth. “We’ll follow you.” She gave them a quick once-over. “I suppose you’re headed toward the hall of the dead. I believe that’s where the All-Father keeps quarters.”
One of the men growled. “There’s no place for your kind here. Go back to your mortals and their Far East.”
Fiera clucked as if scolding hens for laying too few eggs. “Every god and goddess have the right to walk in this realm. If you fail to understand the ways of your own gods, I’m sure the All-Father can set you straight.”
The men argued with each other for so long that Pingzi lost her fear of them. She eased a step closer and stared openly at them. The way the pieces of each man floated in place fascinated her.
One of the men noticed and pointed her out to his peers. “That one’s up to no good. I say we go home. If they follow, it’s the problem of the gods, not ours.”
After nodding in agreement, the dead men continued their march onto an avenue bordered with tall and wide stone buildings that towered as high as canyon walls. They walked until they arrived at a stone building. Its wide marble steps led to a large brass door, into which designs of dragons and men had been forged. Tall urns lined the exterior walls on either side of the door.
One dead man opened the door. It revealed a grand foyer of walls decorated with swords, daggers, and axes hung in starburst patterns. Beyond the foyer, crowds of men laughed, ate, and sang in a massive dining hall.
Each of the dead men that Pingzi and Fiera had followed went to a stone urn, climbed onto its edge, and then removed every piece of his body, feet first. When only his arms and torso remained, each man leaned toward the center of his urn and tumbled inside.
The open doorway glittered and the dead men materialized, now looking alive and well. One pointed down the avenue. “You’ll find the All-Father in the silver building. This hall is strictly for the dead.” He turned and walked through the foyer toward the dining hall, followed by his friends.
Fiera clucked again. “It’s been too long since I was here. I remember now.” She trooped down the avenue toward the silver building.
Pingzi hurried to keep up.
Within a few blocks, they arrived at the silver building. Its marble steps led to its carved-wood door, which stood open. Bright light revealed a long narrow hall. Its floor, ceiling, and walls were all made of silver.
Pingzi followed Fiera inside the foyer. A great winding staircase curved high alongside the wall. A raven perched on the railing and called out when it saw the women enter.
“Follow me,” Fiera said. She walked down the long hallway. When the silver floor and ceiling ended, dark wood replaced them. But the polished walls continued, and they reflected the dragon goddess and the demon queller.
A dimly lit room stood at the end of the hallway. Pingzi trailed Fiera to the open doorway of that chamber.
The small room contained a fire blazing inside a large black urn. A man sat on a simple wooden chair next to a squat round table. He wore a cloak and a wide-brimmed hat cocked to one side so that it covered one eye. He examined a pile of small stones on the table, each of which had a unique carved symbol. He gestured for the women to enter the room.
When they did, the door slammed shut behind them.
“Fiera,” the man said, still examining the stones.
“All-Father,” Fiera said.
“I wasn’t expecting you.” The All-Father sat back and stared at Pingzi with a single blazing blue eye as clear as ice. “Much less that you’d bring a mortal with you.”
The door burst open, and a tall and muscular man stormed inside. His long blond hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his bright blue eyes held rage. Sparks as bright and blue as his eyes hovered around him like a cape. When he spoke, his voice echoed like thunder. “Get out, dragon goddess!”
Pingzi stepped closer to Fiera and reminded herself of the goddess’s great and mighty power. Pingzi knew the dragon gods of the Far East had powers derived from air, earth, fire, or water. Although her knowledge of the Northlander gods paled by comparison, she’d learned what little Benzel knew about them. The All-Father oversaw all the Northlander gods, whose powers were wider and more varied than the dragon gods.
She suspected this one to be associated with lightning bolts and thunder from the way he looked and acted. Benzel called him Thor.
Thor faced Fiera with an accusing look. “You hide a mortal who failed to keep his promise to me!”
Fiera snorted and sat on the edge of the table on which the All-Father arranged his flat stones.
The All-Father gave her a pointed stare with his single eye.
Fiera pretended not to notice and held her ground. “I did no such thing! If mortals want to use alchemists to strike bargains with you or your brethren, it has nothing to do with me.”
Benzel. They’re talking about Benzel.
Pingzi held still and kept quiet, hoping Thor would assume she knew nothing.
Benzel had never confided in Pingzi about his child, but he’d told her about his life before the day they met on Tower Island. Benzel told Pingzi how he met his wife late in his life. He talked about how she’d become pregnant and the heartbreak of her death during childbirth. Although Benzel didn’t spell out exactly what happened, he alluded to his alchemist friend and how they’d arrived on Tower Island a short time before Pingzi found him.
I remember the alchemist holding an infant. That infant must have been Benzel’s son.
Pingzi also remembered how Benzel treated the student who hailed from Tower Island years later. How Benzel beamed and glowed in the presence of that student.
I think Skallagrim is Benzel’s son.
But why is Fiera talking about a bargain struck between mortals and gods?
With a start, Pingzi saw the All-Father staring at her.
He returned his attention to the stones on the tabletop. The All-Father placed each one face-down so the carvings were hidden. “The runes can advise us.”
“The runes?” Thor stared at him in disbelief. He pointed at Fiera. “This dragon goddess knows the mortal who promised his first-born child to me.
”
Pingzi nearly fell over in surprise.
Skallagrim! How could Benzel promise to give Skallagrim to Thor?
Any why?
Before she could help it, Pingzi released a gasp.
Thor turned his attention to her like a cat noticing the presence of a mouse. He peered at Pingzi with narrow eyes and leaned in toward her. “And look at the mortal. Did you bring her as some sort of peace offering?” He sniffed at Pingzi and then wrinkled his nose in distaste. “She’s stale and uninteresting. I have no use for her.”
Fiera examined her nails as if they were far more interesting than anything or anyone else in the room. “The mortal is a demon queller. And she has portents. She is arguably the most interesting mortal in her world.”
Mortified, Pingzi worried that Thor would change his mind and snap her up as payment for Benzel’s bargain with him all those years ago. She whispered, “Fiera…”
Thor chuckled. “The mortal thinks I have use for a demon queller.”
“She could help you with Loki,” the All-Father said.
“Loki is annoying, not dangerous,” Thor said. “I need no help.” He aimed a half-glance at Pingzi. “Why would anyone think I need help from a mortal? It’s insulting.”
Fiera now straightened out her clothing, still refusing the common courtesy of acknowledging Thor’s presence. “This mortal could be the key to solving your problem.”
“What problem might that be?” the All-Father said.
Fiera stopped fussing with her clothes and looked directly into the All-Father’s single eye. “Your desire to destroy the entire world.”
CHAPTER 14
Fiera’s words scared Pingzi.
If the All-Father wants to destroy the entire world, why does Fiera think I’m the key to stopping him?
The All-Father laughed loud and long. “Fiera,” he said, “I’ve always liked you. You have the heart of a Northlander god.”
“Change your mind,” Fiera said. “Let the mortals live.”
Thor stepped toward her. Every step he took rumbled like thunder. “Like I said before: get out. It’s none of your business what we do.” He reached as if to take her by the arm in an effort to escort her to the door.
Before he could touch her, Fiera turned into a dragon. In the mortal world, her transformation would have ripped her clothing apart. Here in the realm of the Northlander gods, her clothing turned into the scales that covered her lizard body. She hissed, “Don’t forget to whom you speak! I’m a dragon goddess of the Far East. If you destroy all mortals, then you destroy the mortals of the country I guard. How can this not be my business?”
“Think, Son,” the All-Father said. “You’re angry at a Northlander who failed to keep his promise to give his child to you. How would you feel if I’d promised to give you to some unknown god?”
“You can’t be on her side.” Thor gaped. “And his promise was more than delivering his first-born child. He promised to restore temples throughout the Northlands. He promised to make the Northlanders worship us again. He broke all those promises.”
Still in her dragon form, Fiera slithered behind the All-Father’s chair and curled her tail around his legs. She rested her head on the floor by his feet.
The All-Father reached down and scratched Fiera behind the tiny ears hidden by her scales. “I’m not on her side.” He straightened and folded his hands in his lap before Fiera could snap at them.
Fiera stood and eased back into the shape of a woman. Now, her dress appeared wrinkled as it reshaped into cloth from scales, giving her reason to smooth it out. To the All-Father, she said, “How can you be on his side?”
The All-Father toyed with one of the flat stones on the table but didn’t turn it over. Instead, the carving on its other side remained a mystery. “Think not of sides. If mortals refuse to worship or even acknowledge their gods, what is the point of allowing them to continue to live?”
Distressed by his words, Pingzi spoke up. “It’s not true!”
All the gods in the room turned to look at her.
Although tempted to shrink under their glare, Pingzi stood taller instead. “Everyone in the Far East loves the dragon gods. They guide us. They help us.” She bowed toward Fiera. “And we love and honor them in return.”
Thor strode toward the table and slammed his hands down on it. The entire room trembled, and some of the sparks hovering around him tumbled onto the flat stones. The sparks crackled like bacon cooking over a fire. “You don’t love or honor us!”
Pingzi faced his wrath with square shoulders and an upturned chin. “You are not our gods. You give us no reason to love or honor you.”
Thor grumbled. “Someone should.”
The All-Father adjusted his hat so that it rested at a sharper angle on his head. “Is that the only reason you came to see me, Fiera? To make a case for sparing mortal lives?” He chortled. “I can see any of the other dragon gods making that case. I never would have guessed you’d be the one to do it. Your disdain for mortals outrivals that of my son.”
Stunned by his accusation, Pingzi clapped both hands over her mouth before she could utter another gasp.
“Fair enough,” Fiera said. “I find most of them tedious and boring.” Her tone softened. “But every so often, you meet one who brings true value to the world. Like a demon queller or a dragonslayer.”
“I knew it!” Thor said. “You’re protecting the dragonslayer who failed what he promised me!”
Fiera continued as if Thor had said nothing. “And when you meet such a mortal, you understand the value of letting all of them live.”
“Nonsense!” Thor said.
“Enough!” The All-Father rubbed his forehead as if willing away a headache. “I find both of you insufferable. I will consider both sides and make a decision later.” He then waved his hand, and the floor took a sharp downward slant.
Pingzi felt her body suspended in the air for a few moments before she plummeted into the pitch-black empty space where the floor had been moments ago.
CHAPTER 15
Pingzi opened her mouth to scream when she plummeted into the black and empty space opened up by the All-Father, not knowing where she was or if the dragon goddess Fiera had fallen into it as well. But the force of air rushing into Pingzi’s mouth silenced her. She pressed her eyes shut. The empty space shocked her skin like the icy waters of a frozen river closing in all around her. A faint odor that reminded Pingzi of a tree burnt by a lightning strike surrounded her.
The spirit of Pingzi Po slammed back into her mortal body so hard that it knocked the air from her lungs. Gasping, she opened her eyes to see Hsu Mao hovering above her face and TeaTree standing close behind him. Feeling a hard, wooden floor beneath her body, Pingzi realized she was lying on her back. Not recognizing her surroundings, she sat up with a start, only to discover the sudden motion made the world spin. “Where am I?”
“My home,” Hsu Mao said in Far Eastern.
“I didn’t know what to do when you fainted,” TeaTree said in Northlander. “You’d been talking to this man and he’d walked away but I could still see him.” TeaTree wrung his hands, and his face strained with worry. “I thought he could help. I caught up with him and showed him where you fell.”
Happy that the Midlander boy had done something with the intent of helping her, Pingzi took his hand and squeezed it.
“Would you like me to tell you what happened so you can compare my story to his?” Hsu Mao gave a slight smile.
“I’d rather that you tell me where I am and how I got here.”
Hsu Mao nodded. “This is my home. I carried you here. I thought because you want to keep your royal identity a secret, you might not appreciate a public scene.”
Pingzi rubbed her face. The sensation of the world spinning around slowed down to a stop. But it left the back of her head aching. “You didn’t cause a scene when you carried me through the city?”
Hsu Mao suppressed another smile. “No. I told people you
were drunk.”
“Drunk?” Pingzi shouted without meaning to do so. It made her head hurt even more, so she softened her voice. “You told people I was drunk?”
“Everyone believed me. Mostly, they laughed and went about their business.”
Pingzi propped up on her elbows, but even that simple movement made her dizzy.
Hsu Mao placed a steadying hand on her shoulders. “They’d still believe me. You’re fragile. Take your time.”
His words insulted her. “I’m not fragile. I’m a demon queller!” Pingzi pushed off her elbows to sit up, only to be overwhelmed by nausea.
The boy TeaTree knelt by her side. “Please, Mistress. I don’t know what this man says, but he’s been good to you. How can I help?” He glanced at Hsu Mao. “How can we help?”
Pingzi spoke first in Northlander and then repeated the same words in Far Eastern so both TeaTree and Hsu Mao would understand. “Take me home. I’ll show you the way.”
Despite Pingzi’s protests that she felt perfectly capable of walking and merely needed an escort home as a precaution, Hsu Mao refused to listen. Instead, he carried and placed her onto a small cart. He then gestured for TeaTree to help him pull the cart through the streets of Zangcheen.
Mortified by the unwanted attention from Hsu Mao as well as curious stares from passers-by, Pingzi curled up in the cart and hid her face in her hands. Every so often, she peeked between her fingers and called out directions to Hsu Mao to guide him. Finally, they arrived in front of Pingzi’s house, a wooden home with sharp angles, nestled among others like it.
Pingzi jumped from the cart and ran to the door.
Before she could touch it, Benzel opened the door and walked outside. He glared at Hsu Mao and the cart. “What’s this?” Benzel said.
“I had a portent,” Pingzi whispered to him. “These strangers helped me get home. It’s nothing to get worked up about.”