by Resa Nelson
Because continuing forward had failed, she decided to walk backwards to retrace her steps. When she reached the point where she had seen the flash, she saw it again. This time, the flash crossed the space between Frayka and the tree in the opposite direction. Once more, she stopped and stared at the empty space. Encouraged, she moved forward on her path and saw the flash again, moving in the same direction as when she had first seen it.
What am I seeing? What does it mean?
Frayka considered the possibilities. If she continued walking back and forth, she would be likely to see the same flash again and again. But what good would that do? She tried walking toward the flash, but nothing happened. She returned to the place on her path where she had first noticed the traveling light. After pondering every possibility she could think of, inspiration struck Frayka.
She crept forward like an inchworm.
In one moment, the area at which Frayka stared lit up and then went dark.
Encouraged, she eased back on one heel.
Just as slowly, the area came into full light and remained in sight.
Standing perfectly still, Frayka stared at the gate in front of her.
Made of carved jade, it stood like a doorway without a room, just tall and wide enough to allow one person to walk through. Gleaming in the light now encircling it, the polished green gate revealed delicate and ornate carvings of flowers, fruits, birds—and dragons. On one hand, the gate seemed out of place in the middle of a mountainside forest. At the same time, it blended in so well with its surroundings that the gate struck Frayka as something that might have naturally sprung from the ground.
Now what do I do?
Frayka knew from trial and error that if she did so much as lean forward or back on the circular route she had been walking that the gate would disappear from sight. Keeping her head steady, she rotated her body until she directly faced the gate.
Will it let me enter?
A wave of nervousness surprised Frayka. She’d committed herself to this task of finding dragon gods. She felt no shyness in facing them.
But for a moment the thought of walking through this jade gate made Frayka feel as if she might be walking into the den of a dangerous animal.
I’ve already met one dragon goddess, and there was no danger in doing that. Kikita is my ally. She wouldn’t let me face any of her fellow gods if she knew they might kill me.
Besides, I’m a Northlander. I have no qualms about going into battle if I must.
With new resolve, Frayka took unhurried steps toward the gate, adjusting her path every time the light around the gate threatened to dim and make the gate fade away. Finally, when she reached the gate, Frayka held onto each side.
She assumed this gate would be like the one before—the Gate of Air. One moment Frayka had stood on the barren and cold terrain of the fingerling mountaintop at the Gate of Air. But as soon as she passed through that gate made of sparkling crystals, she set foot into a warm and lush garden filled with flowers—Kikita’s realm.
Now holding onto each side of the Gate of Earth, Frayka took a big stride to cross its threshold, expecting the world in front of her to change.
But it didn’t. The forest on the other side of the jade gate looked the same. Birds still sang and flitted from branch to branch in the trees. The temperature remained chilly but comfortable.
Frayka didn’t understand. Shouldn’t all the gates behave the same?
What if they don’t? What if each gate is different?
Frayka studied everything within sight for clues. When she looked at the ground, she noticed she stood on a very narrow path in the midst of so much brush that it was almost impossible to see.
Not knowing what else to do, Frayka left the gate behind and followed the thin trail deep into the forest. The path led her down the mountain slope and through a series of hills and burrows. When the path ended at the mouth of a tunnel barely large enough for Frayka to enter, she dropped to her belly and looked inside. Heartened at the light she saw at its other end, she wriggled inside and inched her way through the tunnel.
When Frayka reached the tunnel’s end, she crawled outside and stood to stare in wonder at the small valley filled with a dense garden. Trees—some blooming and others laden with fruit—dotted the hills around the valley. A clear pond dominated the center of the valley, reflecting the bright blue color of the sky above. Rows of bushes and plants circled the pond as if someone had thrown a stone in its center, and the rings of waves it caused had spilled onto the ground and turned into greenery.
Frayka walked around the outermost circle of plants. She discovered thick bushes bearing duckbill fruit growing alongside vines crowded with grapes. Overwhelmed by hunger, Frayka plopped on the ground and ate her fill. When satiated, she stretched out on the soft grass covering the ground between the plants and a thicket of squat trees sporting red and white flowers at the edge of the valley.
She woke up with a start the next morning at sunrise. Disoriented for several moments, Frayka remembered how she had arrived in the valley and ate some more fruit. Before she finished eating, a gentle humming sound startled her.
Keeping low to the ground, Frayka peeked between the bushes to see a slender man of small stature make his way from the opposite side of the valley through the circular rows of plants to the pond. His close-cropped hair looked as black as fertile soil. His nose and cheekbones and chin were sharp like rocks. His skin reminded Frayka of polished stone.
He doesn’t look like a Far Easterner. Who is he? And what is he doing here?
The strange man drank from the pond and then began tending the plants. He picked off dead leaves and put them into a simple bowl. Once the bowl filled, he crushed the dead leaves and spread them around the base of the plants.
Watching his progress from where she crouched on the ground, Frayka realized the strange man had walked far enough so that he now stood between her and the tunnel that had led her to this garden in the valley. Despite his black hair and small stature, Frayka wasn’t convinced that he was Far Eastern. Since arriving in this country, Far Easterners had given Frayka many reasons to distrust them, even though she gave her full trust to her Far Eastern great-grandmother. And even if this strange man wasn’t Far Eastern, it seemed foolish to assume he would mean her no harm.
Growing up as a Northlander, Frayka knew the world could be a dark and dangerous place, and she had no intent of making herself vulnerable to a stranger.
Looking back, Frayka noticed a copse of blooming trees behind her. Their trunks grew close enough together to provide a good place to hide. When the strange man turned his back to her, she scampered to the nearby trees and squeezed in behind them.
Their highest branches shook as if a wind had rushed through them, even though Frayka felt no such breeze. White flowers colored with bright red stripes floated in the air, dancing and twirling. They spun in circles around the strange man before drifting into his empty bowl.
He scooped a handful of flowers out of the bowl and held them close to his face, breathing in deeply. He asked a question but kept his voice so low that Frayka couldn’t make out the words.
Unease made Frayka’s teeth feel tight in her jaw. In a desperate attempt, she pressed her body and face against the grassy ground, willing to sacrifice watching the strange man in exchange for a better way to hide.
A whistle drifted through the air, and Frayka assumed it came from the strange man.
As if in response, the tree branches above Frayka rustled even more. She felt flowers graze her hair and noticed a heady sweet scent envelope her.
“Is there a visitor in my garden?” a male voice called out. He sounded neither angry nor welcoming.
What do I do?
Lying face down, Frayka sensed the shape of her dagger within easy reach should she stand up.
“There is no reason to hide.” The voice sounded closer. “You are safe here.”
Safe? Should I believe him? Even if he’s a bad man, there’s on
ly one of him. He’s small. I can defeat him.
“Perhaps I can help you.” The voice sounded even closer.
A new thought struck Frayka. She realized she understood every word the man said.
Have I finally become fluent in Far Eastern?
Frayka remembered the last words he’d said. The exact words. She stood up and faced the strange man. “You speak Northlander. But you don’t look like any Northlander man I’ve ever known.”
“I speak many languages.” The man stood at the edge of the valley. He looked up to where Frayka positioned herself by the trees on the hillside and kept still. “The flowers tell me you’re Northlander. But you don’t look like any Northlander woman I’ve ever known.”
Frayka stood tall and proud. “I’m from the Land of Ice. All of my family are Northlanders except for my great-grandmother. She’s Far Eastern. I take after her.” Frayka rested her hand on the grip of the dagger tucked under her belt. “But believe me when I say that I’m a Northlander.”
“Your great-grandmother,” the man said. “Would she be Madam Po?”
Startled, Frayka said, “How do you know that?”
“You don’t just take after her. You’re the spitting image of Madam Po when she was young. So much so that I first took you for her ghost.”
“Ghost?” Frayka glared at the insolent man. “My great-grandmother is very much alive!”
“I’m happy to hear that.” The strange man heaved a sigh of great relief. “Did she send you here?”
“She knows I sought the Gate of Earth. But I found this place on my own.” Frayka paused and considered the events that led her here. “Rather by accident.”
“On your own. How did that happen?”
“A ray of light struck the gate, and I saw it.”
Suspicion stole into the man’s voice. “Finding the gate was as easy as seeing it?”
“No,” Frayka said. “I found the entire experience difficult and peculiar.”
The man nodded as if she’d answered a different question he hadn’t yet asked. “And why do you seek the Gate of Earth?”
Under normal circumstances, Frayka would have found the man’s questions irritating and invasive. She would have walked away or told him to stop poking his nose in places where it didn’t belong.
But Frayka had come into a place where this man seemed at home. She imagined he must be a gardener or caretaker of some kind.
He could be useful.
“I’ve already met Kikita,” Frayka said. “I need to meet the other dragon gods and goddesses. She advised me to find the Gate of Earth and search for the god who lives beyond it.”
The man smiled. “How will you recognize the god when you meet him?” He took a step toward her. “And what business could you possibly have with him?”
Frayka felt her hackles rise. She pulled out her dagger and pointed it at the man. Her Northlander instincts took over. “That’s none of your concern. Tell me where I can find him!”
The man fell to his hands and knees. His body began to change shape and ripped his clothing apart until it fell away. His arms and legs angled out to the side, and his feet and hands turned into paws with long, curved claws. His torso elongated, and a tail grew from it. When his jaws opened from a long and flattened head, rows bearing dozens of needle-like teeth glistened inside. Although scales covered his dragon body, they gleamed like pale polished stones.
“Oh, I see,” Frayka said. She put her dagger away. “You’re the dragon god. You’re the one I want to consult.”
The dragon changed back into a man. Looking around, he picked up the torn remnants of his clothing, now in shreds. He appeared to be more concerned with keeping the grounds neat and clean than his appearance. Tucking the cloth remains under one arm, he said, “My name is Wendill.”
“I know of you,” Frayka said. “My father told me stories about you and the Scaldings. And there are the children’s rhymes, of course.”
Wendill smiled. “Of course. But you didn’t come all the way across the sea to tell me that.”
“No.” Frayka drew up her courage, having no idea how Wendill would respond to her request. “It’s the Northlander gods. They’ve charged me with the task of making things right. They’re offended by the way Northlanders abandoned their own gods and worshipped you and the other dragon gods of the Far East instead.”
Wendill surprised Frayka by laughing. “And how do you propose to make things right?” Wendill said. “This is something that happened long ago. Why do the Northlander gods care?”
Frayka gave the dragon god a hard look. “Haven’t you ever met them?”
Wendill sobered. “Our paths have crossed.”
“Haven’t you noticed that the Northlander gods are so enamored with their own opinions that they worship themselves?” Frayka snorted. “They didn’t tell me how to make things right between the Northlander gods and the Far East gods. They told me to figure it out myself. So that’s what I’m here to do. I already have Kikita’s promise to help. The next step is to ask you for yours.”
Wendill’s face softened with sympathy. “How especially cruel of them.” He considered her for a moment, and his expression turned inquisitive. “When did the Northlander gods give you this task?”
Frayka couldn’t give an immediate answer because she’d lost track of time. “Within the past month or two.”
“I see,” Wendill said. “It’s possible they didn’t know about your condition at the time.”
“Condition?” Frayka said. “What condition?”
“I see,” Wendill said again. “It’s possible it’s too early for you to know, as well.” He held out a hand toward Frayka as an invitation to join his side. “The flowers not only tell me that you’re a Northlander. They also say that you carry a child inside your belly.”
CHAPTER 19
“With child?” Frayka said in astonishment. “How can I possibly be with child?”
But then she thought back to the lovely nights she’d spent alone with her husband Njall when they crossed the sea, first from the Land of Vines to the Land of Ice and later to the shores of the Far East. And just as she’d lost track of time since then, she had also lost track of her monthly cycle.
Panic seized her at the thought of bringing a child into the world when she didn’t know what had happened to Njall or if he even still lived. How could she raise a child by herself? And what if resolving the problem between the Northlander and Far Eastern gods took so long that the child was born in the Far East before Frayka could make her way back home?
If her child were a girl, wouldn’t being born in the Far East mean that the girl child would live in constant danger?
Frayka sickened at the memory of GranGran’s neighbor, the woman who had been boiled alive as punishment for refusing to grieve a harmful husband’s death in the way her nation believed she should grieve. Frayka remembered her own fright at being captured by a stranger determined to make her his bride and the danger of revealing to the emperor that she had already married a Northlander, a crime in the Far East.
If she had a daughter, Frayka had to protect her from the peril of living in the Far East.
On the other hand, if Frayka’s child were a boy, wouldn’t he grow up surrounded by people who saw no wrong in treating women with violence and disregard? How could Frayka protect him from such overwhelming influences? How could the voice of one mother outshout a myriad of opposing voices?
If she had a son, Frayka had to protect him from a multitude of bad influences that could turn him into a monster.
If I leave the Far East now, I will fail to make peace between the Northlander gods and Far East gods. Then the Northlander gods will kill me and everyone I love in retaliation.
But I must leave the Far East before my child is born so I can protect my daughter or son.
“Please,” Frayka said. “I need your help to appease the Northlander gods.”
Still clutching his torn clothes under one arm, Wendill re
mained at the edge of the valley with an outstretched hand, waiting for Frayka to accept it. “Come with me, and we’ll talk about it.”
More than ever, Frayka missed her portents. It would have been helpful to know about Wendill before meeting him. She found it peculiar that a dragon god stood naked and waiting for her to take his hand.
Maybe I’ve become too dependent on my portents. After all, I still have my own good instincts.
Frayka calmed herself and listened within. When in danger, her instincts would raise a flag of fear and the impulse to run away. Frayka felt none of that right now. Instead, she felt a natural sense of safety.
I can trust this god.
Frayka walked down the gentle slope of the hill where she’d hidden behind a copse of trees and accepted the open hand that Wendill offered to her.
* * *
Wendill led Frayka out of the valley and, with torch in hand, through a series of tunnels.
With each step, Frayka felt as if she were descending deeper and deeper into the earth. But she concluded that they must have been walking beneath a mountain, because the last tunnel opened onto a rocky area enclosing a hot spring. When Frayka saw the steam from the water hovering above its surface, it reminded her of a similar spring near her home in the Land of Ice.
Wendill gestured toward the hot spring. “I will leave you here to refresh yourself. You’ve had difficult days, and the journey you choose won’t get any easier. Take some time to renew. I’ll find fresh clothing and food for you, and we can talk about your request after you’ve had a chance to relax and eat.” He returned to the tunnel.
Frayka wasted no time stripping, tossing her clothes aside, and sinking into the welcome heat of the bubbling water. Leaning back, she let her long black hair spread out like a fan in the water and then washed out the grime.
Keeping her body submerged, Frayka found a stone ledge where she could relax. She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.
Sometime later, she woke up with a start. It took Frayka several moments to remember where she was, and then the thought that she’d fallen asleep while sitting in water mortified her. She had once heard of someone who fell asleep in a hot spring and drowned. Frayka felt lucky no such fate had happened to her, but she didn’t want to tempt the gods, Northlander or otherwise.