by Resa Nelson
A villager raised a scythe above his head and ran toward Frayka.
Frayka threw the axe at the charging villager. The axe connected with the scythe, knocking it out of the villager’s hands. When the scythe spun out of his hands, its edge cut the skin of one arm open. Shrieking in pain, the villager fell to his knees.
While everyone else stared at the villager cut by his own scythe, Frayka pulled out her dagger and pressed its point under the chin of the man struggling to breathe beneath the weight she still placed on his chest. Raising her voice, Frayka said, “We go. Now!”
The villagers surrounding the guards eased back. Some dropped their weapons.
Ling’s father glared at Frayka but chose not to speak.
“Let us go in peace,” Jojen said, “and we will grant you the mercy of reporting mere Insolence instead of the far more serious crime of Attacking the Royal Guards.”
Ling’s father limited his response to a disgusted snort.
While Frayka kept her weight and dagger pressed against the villager who had attacked Jojen, the royal guard led the men under his command to the path that had first brought them here. “Frayka,” Jojen called out, now a safe distance away from the villagers. “Come now.”
Frayka allowed the dagger to slip just enough to nick the villager’s skin. In her own Northlander language, she said, “Now I’ve done to you what you did to Jojen. How do you like it?”
Mimicking Ling’s father, Frayka gave a disgusted snort before standing and joining the royal guards. She turned her back on the village, knowing none of them would dare follow.
Frayka walked with the royal guards while the light of the stars faded and the promise of dawn glowed along the horizon. Once the guards put a good distance between themselves and the village, Jojen ordered the other men to walk ahead.
Frayka noticed a tremor in Jojen’s voice.
That attack shook him up. Maybe that’s the first time he’s been in real danger.
Speaking in a low voice, Jojen said, “You saved my life. That man was going to kill me. Why did you help?”
Frayka looked at him and realized she liked his face, which reflected a measure of gratitude and kindness. She kept her answer simple, knowing Jojen would understand. “Njall.”
“I’m married, too,” Jojen told her. “I have a wife who would now be a widow and children who would be without a father if not for you. My first loyalty is to them.”
Frayka stared at him, wondering if she’d understood him correctly.
“Go,” Jojen whispered.
He said he would kill me and Njall if I tried to run away.
Frayka shook her head, dismayed. “But Njall.”
Jojen placed a gentle hand on Frayka’s shoulder. “I will protect Njall.”
An expression of vulnerability in Jojen’s eyes convinced Frayka he told the truth.
With a nod of thanks, she backed away from him with a plan to retrace her steps to a place they’d passed where climbing looked easier.
CHAPTER 12
After being accused by her own father of a crime she didn’t commit, Ling Lu was allowed to go inside her home to gather a few items of clothing to carry with her when he took her to the city of Zangcheen. While doing so, Ling’s mother crept into the room.
“Do you know how to get to your father’s favorite fishing spot from here?” her mother whispered.
Ling couldn’t tell if she held more anger toward the father who had falsely accused her or the mother who had stood by and done nothing to protect her. “Of course, I do.”
“If you climb out the window at the back of the house, could you find your way there in the dark?”
Now her mother had Ling’s attention. “I think so. Why?”
Ling noticed her mother cradled some whole fruits and vegetables that she must have swiped from the kitchen when she followed her daughter into the house.
Her mother now wrapped the food in a simple jacket and used the cotton belt to tie it into a bundle. She thrust the bundle at Ling and said, “Go there now. Run as fast as you can.”
Ling’s heart raced with hope. “Won’t they follow me?”
“I will delay them,” her mother said. “There is a cave at the fishing spot, but few know it’s there because trees block the entrance.”
“I know that cave. You think I can hide there?”
Her mother nodded. “Stay out of sight, night and day. In a few days I will come for you.”
Ling frowned. “What good will it do to come back home? Father won’t change his mind.”
“He won’t,” her mother said. “We won’t come back.”
Speechless, Ling stared at her mother. This made no sense. Women always stayed with their men. Ling had never heard of a mother and daughter who struck out into the world on their own. “We can’t live in a cave. They would find us sooner or later.”
“We won’t live in a cave. I know how to find Seahorse Island.”
Ling laughed. “There’s no such place. It’s just a fantastical story.”
“That’s possible. But I think it might be real.” Still holding the food bundled in a jacket, her mother forced it into Ling’s hands. “And if it’s real, then we’ll be safe there.”
Ling Lu’s world unraveled on the day she was sacrificed to the serpent. Things she had always assumed to be true now looked like lies. And now her mother believed a place of legend might actually exist. She wrapped her hands around the bundle of food.
“Go now,” her mother whispered. “I can’t delay them forever.” Placing a hand on her daughter’s arm, she squeezed it and then hurried out of the room.
The opportunity facing Ling Lu terrified her. Up until now her life had been so simple. She lived with her parents and honored them by doing everything they told her to do. She obeyed. She followed rules. She learned how to fit in so that everyone in the village cared for her.
Doing as her mother advised and leaving now would destroy the life Ling knew and understood. Instead of sleeping on a cozy bed in a warm house tonight, she would sleep on the ground inside a cave. Instead of picking vegetables she’d planted in the family garden and then cooking them for dinner, she would have to scrounge for food. Ling couldn’t imagine what that would be like.
Everything will change. My life will be different from anything I’ve ever known. What if I don’t like it? What if I miss my old life?
Ling reminded herself that her old life was already gone. Her own father chose to listen to strange men instead of his own daughter. None of her neighbors showed any sign of coming to her defense. Only her mother demonstrated any willingness to help Ling.
Her own father waited outside to escort her to the court in Zangcheen where she would be sentenced to a painful death.
A new thought occurred to Ling.
What do I have to lose?
She heard her mother speaking outside. The luxury of wasting time evaporated.
Clutching the bound vegetables—the last piece of her old life—Ling Lu slipped quietly through the house, opened a window on the side facing the dark forest, and found the path leading into it.
Ling ran as fast as she could, determined to escape the clutches of those who would let her die without protest.
* * *
Several days after Frayka went missing, Madam Po awoke in her home after a night attempting to consult the portents. She’d requested clarity from them. Instead, she’d had a peaceful and dreamless sleep.
Something is amiss.
After completing the morning exercises that allowed her body to shake its stiffness and move with ease and fluidity, Madam Po met TeaTree in the main room where he had a pot of tea waiting for her.
TeaTree stood, waiting for her to plop down on a floor pillow in front of the low table supporting the pot of tea, teacups, and bowls of rice infused with zesty red temper spice. He gave her a slight bow. “Madam. Nu shi.”
Madam Po smiled at her friend before lowering herself to the floor pillow.
&nbs
p; TeaTree followed suit, sitting across the table from her. “Madam?”
“No portent came to me last night.” Madam Po took the appropriate amount of time to pour tea for herself and TeaTree and then breathe in the soothing aroma. Named for its ability to calm agitated nerves, temper spice tea presented a good way to begin any day. “I suspect one of two things. Either there is a serious problem in the making or everything is as it should be.”
TeaTree circled his hands around his own cup of tea. “I’ve never heard you say such a thing before.”
“It has never happened before.”
“How are we to know which one it is? And what we are to do about it?”
Madam Po stared at the leaves settling at the bottom of her cup. Perhaps they would form a pattern to advise her. “As of this moment, there is no way to understand the situation. Therefore, we cannot know how to respond.”
TeaTree pushed his cup of tea away and drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “I worry about Frayka. And Njall.”
“As do I.”
Once they discovered Frayka had slipped away in the night, Madam Po and TeaTree tried to find her. Due to Madam Po’s good standing within the dynasty, they had no problems being admitted inside the royal complex, even in the deep hours of night. TeaTree succeeded in making his way into the Hall of Concubines, surprised to find it empty and wondered what had happened to all the women who once lived there.
Madam Po managed to talk her way past the guards of the royal palace. As quiet as the moon, she steered through every hallway, listening for clues to the whereabouts of Frayka or Njall.
Madam Po blew gently on her tea in order to cool it while not disturbing the settling leaves.
“It doesn’t seem right to sit here and do nothing,” TeaTree said. “Surely there’s something we can do.”
Madam Po held up a hand and gestured for him to be quiet. “We will do nothing until we understand what there is that can be done.”
TeaTree fidgeted. “You said you had no portent last night. Did you request one?”
Madam Po nodded. “It is the first time since my youth that the portents denied me.”
TeaTree ran his fingers through his hair, becoming more agitated by the moment. “They can’t have abandoned you.”
His words made Madam Po smile. “Of course not. My husband’s spirit visits me in the portents, and he would never allow them to abandon me.”
“Your husband,” TeaTree said. His manner calmed. “You never told me that before.”
“Haven’t I?” Madam Po frowned, searching through her memories for a time when she shared that information with her friend and surprised when no such memory surfaced.
“What about the last portent? Is there anything more you can glean from it that could help us now?”
“Let me think.” Madam Po thought back to her most recent conversation with her dead husband’s spirit inside a portent. “He told me there’s a black cloud hanging above Zangcheen.”
“Like the one we saw from the Gate of Air?” TeaTree frowned. “But that cloud has lifted.”
“My husband says otherwise. He told me that even though we can no longer see it, the cloud is still there. He says trouble befalls the city.”
“Of course. You told me before.” TeaTree’s frown deepened. “Have you learned anything new?”
Madam Po centered her attention on recalling the recent conversation with her husband’s spirit. “I told him how the goddess Kikita sensed wicked magic in Zangcheen when a force took control of the air she rules and used it to kill Emperor Po. But I told my husband that the court magician is a good man.”
“I agree. Everything I have seen and everything you have told me about the magician makes him seem trustworthy.”
“Not just trustworthy. He is a good man who devotes his life to helping the Po dynasty. My husband’s spirit confirmed that the magician is not the one stirring up shady magic.”
TeaTree looked at her steadily. “Then who is?”
Madam Po closed her eyes to increase her focus on drawing out her recollection from a head filled with many decades of recollections. “My husband says there is a new force taking hold of Zangcheen. He says it is dangerous. But he also claimed something befuddling: he says it can bring about change for good as well as change for bad.”
“Good or bad,” TeaTree said. “So, all is not lost.”
“Possibly. It is unclear which change will come about. We have been cautioned to be careful with every step we take. When my husband advised me to leave Zangcheen and go elsewhere, I told him we must stay to help Frayka and Njall.”
TeaTree nodded in agreement.
“That is when he said we can protect the Po Dynasty by staying in Zangcheen and uncovering the mayhem.”
“Expose it to the light.”
Madam Po opened her eyes and smiled at TeaTree. “In a manner of speaking, yes.” She paused, remembering the last piece of advice.
“Madam?”
“He showed me a garden unlike any I’ve seen before. A beautiful garden. He said when we find the garden, we’ll find Frayka.”
TeaTree released a sigh of relief. “Then there is hope.” He drank the rest of his tea.
Madam Po drained her own cup.
Remembering her earlier intent, Madam Po stared into her empty cup as if gazing into her dead husband’s eyes. The leaves settled onto the bottom of the cup. Although most tea-leaf designs tended to be vague and challenging to interpret, this one looked obvious. When Madam Po studied it, she saw the profile of a proud girl with her head held high.
The profile was one that would be recognized immediately by any citizen of the city of Zangcheen.
“Empress Ti,” Madam Po said, keeping her gaze fixed on the tea leaves. “I must talk to her at once.”
TeaTree stood. “Let me clear everything away before we leave for the royal complex.”
“Not us,” Madam Po said. “Just me this time.” Before a hurt expression could appear on TeaTree’s face, she reached out to clasp his hand. “We need to discuss a different plan for you.”
Perplexed, TeaTree said, “Why?”
“Because if any trouble befalls me, you will be Frayka’s last hope.”
CHAPTER 13
Frayka ran back toward the serpent’s cave, not knowing where else to go in the dark night. Ling Lu knew about the hiding place where they’d hid from the strange men, and Frayka didn’t want to risk Ling’s ability to keep that information to herself.
I will never let anyone capture me again. Or allow guards to take me anywhere.
Winded, Frayka slowed her pace to a walk. She’d allowed the guards to bring her to Dragon Mountain because she saw no other choice.
Empress Ti must assume that all Northlanders are dragonslayers. Luan must have come to Zangcheen asking for someone to free Ling and help her escape from the serpent. Luan seemed terrified of it, otherwise, she wouldn’t have killed it.
A sinking realization made Frayka grasp her own weakness.
Maybe I wanted to prove how powerful Northlanders can be. Maybe I wanted to show how smart and fierce I can be. Maybe I wanted to demonstrate my skills to Empress Ti so she would release me.
Angry with herself, Frayka realized any chance of that happening was long gone.
Luckily, Ling Lu had yelled at the strange men who had woken up her entire village. Maybe she gave them the most blame for her sister’s death.
But Frayka didn’t see any benefit in assuming that Ling Lu wouldn’t blame Frayka as well.
And if that happened, Frayka would end up back in the royal court in Zangcheen where judgment would most likely cost her life.
Arriving at last at the clearing where she saw the shape of the dead serpent in the starlight, Frayka made her way into its cave where she would hide until morning.
* * *
At the early light of dawn, Frayka woke up inside the cave with a start.
When did I fall asleep?
She kept still, expec
ting to be captured at any moment by villagers who might be creeping up on her.
But no villagers came.
Frayka had crawled into the cave in the dark and found a niche to hide. She guessed it must have been where the serpent nested, because a deep bed of soft pine needles filled the niche along with furs from animals the reptile must have eaten. Bundling up in the furs allowed Frayka a warm and restful night of sleep.
With the soft morning light filtering into the mouth of the cave, she now had a vague view of her surroundings. The ceiling reached high above in jagged shafts. A flurry of bats rushed into the cave and up into its farthest reaches. The air fanned from above smelled dank and chalky, and it chilled Frayka to the bone.
She shivered and retrieved enough of the furs to wrap around her shoulders and waist to ward off the cold. Frayka then walked to the mouth of the cave, where she peered outside.
Except for the carcass of the slain serpent, the clearing stood empty. Birds trilled in trees to establish the boundaries of their territory. A light white coat of frost covered the grass but already began to melt with the warmth of the new day.
Why didn’t anyone look for me here?
Frayka reminded herself that the men from Ling’s village might have come here last night but either didn’t think to look inside the cave or didn’t see her tucked away in one of its corners. She listened for the sound of tell-tale voices or footfalls. Only the territorial songs of the birds broke the silence until her stomach rumbled.
Since childhood, Frayka had developed the habit of grazing like a sheep throughout the day. Instead of grass, she always kept nuts and seeds in the pouch she typically tied to her belt. Although she now wore Far Eastern clothing, Frayka continued to wear her own belt and pouch beneath her shirt. However, her pouch had been empty for days and she’d never had enough presence of mind to refill it. Her stomach twisted in knots as if punishing Frayka for her carelessness.
She stared at the serpent carcass for a few minutes before walking toward it. Frost swirled in lacy patterns across the creature’s glistening scales.