by Resa Nelson
What comfort would he offer if he finds out what you have done?
Instead of asking the elderly physician to hold her, Ti said, “I take your words to heart. But this is a matter for a magician. You must leave now so he can do his work.”
The elderly physician offered a dignified bow. “As you wish, Empress.” He then guided the rest of the physicians out of her room.
The looseness inside her body felt as if it were on the verge of turning everything to liquid. The sensation made Ti feel faint. She teetered on the edge of consciousness.
For a moment, she liked the idea of sinking into the deepest of sleeps. She entertained the notion of giving up on everything, never having to make another decision or worry about her safety again.
She closed her eyes.
It would be so easy to simply drift asleep and stay there forever.
“Ti! Wake up!”
Ti shook off her malaise and looked up to find herself alone in her bedroom with Asu Chu, whose face turned ashen.
“Jojen says you’re sick,” Asu Chu said. “What happened?”
Ti drummed up the strength to speak. “It’s why I sent those men out to the far reaches of the Wulong Province. The time has come, Asu. I need the cure now. Please tell me they have returned with what I need.”
Her friend fidgeted. “They have.”
Ti brightened with hope only to allow her thoughts to sink into suspicion. “When? Why wasn’t I told before?”
Asu Chu paced by her bed. “No one likes it.”
“Likes what?”
Asu Chu wrung his hands. “What must be done.”
“Even to save the life of your empress?” Ti softened her tone. “Even to save the life of your most loyal and devoted friend?”
Asu Chu ran his hand across his face as if he were wiping away tears, even though his eyes were clear and dry. “It makes everyone uncomfortable. Even me.”
Ti remembered what Asu Chu’s father had told her about the cure for the harm she had inadvertently done to herself by drinking water from the Fountain of Immortality. The cure that required blood from a newborn baby.
Smear some of the blood across your skin, and drink the rest. Your body can absorb the blood from your skin and from within. The presence of the newborn blood might convince the essence of the water to reverse its perception of you.
“I know it’s your only hope,” Asu Chu said, pacing even harder. “But no one wants to kill babies.”
“Then start with one,” Ti said. “The blood of one will be enough to find out if this cure is going to work.”
“None of the men will do it,” Asu Chu said. “They can’t stomach it.”
“Can you?” Ti said. She felt her teeth wobble when she spoke. “For the sake of saving me?”
Asu Chu paused and stared at his feet. “I don’t know.”
“Everything depends on it. The city of Zangcheen and the Wulong Province are the most civilized and dignified places in all the Far East. My father committed many people to death—including his own mother. But it always happened in court. It only happened when laws were broken. Once the other provinces in the Far East find out I’m dead, they will wage war on Zangcheen. If I die, the advisors will fight among themselves to become emperor, but war will fall upon the city before they can choose who will be the new emperor. Warriors from other provinces will slaughter everyone inside the royal complex. And the punishments doled out by my father will look tame compared to what those warriors will do. They will torture you and your father. There is much more at stake than my own death.”
“Those things,” Asu Chu said with a stutter. “How do you know they could happen?”
Ti spoke the truth. “My father talked to me of such things. And when my father spoke, I paid attention and I asked questions. He wanted me to know the worst things that could happen so I could have a chance to protect myself from them.”
“One baby. You want me to kill just one.”
“Just one.” Ti coughed. A few teeth fell out of her mouth. “Hurry! There’s little time left!”
Without another word, Asu Chu ran out of her room, leaving the door ajar.
When Ti tried to put her loose teeth back in her mouth, they only fell out again. She held them in one hand, waiting. In the distance, a baby’s scream echoed through the labyrinth-like hallways of the royal palace. Ti saw the guards at her bedroom door wince and cringe at the scream.
Fire-like pain shot through her limbs, and Ti doubled over in agony for what felt like an eternity. When it reached a point of being too much to bear, she wondered if accepting her own death might be for the best. Ti thought she sensed her joints beginning to dissolve.
“Ti!” Asu Chu called out when he ran back into her bedroom.
Ti looked up to see a mix of pride and revulsion on Asu Chu’s face. He slowed his pace but soon perched on the edge of her bed and offered a tin cup filled with dark liquid. “Here.”
Still clutching her teeth in one hand, Ti wrapped her free hand around the tin cup. Remembering what Tao Chu had said about how to use the blood, Ti drank half of it.
Immediately, her gums began to tighten. Ti jammed her loose teeth back in her mouth, and this time they stayed in place, feeling firm and strong. Gentle warmth spread through her insides, vanquishing the pain. Heartened, Ti said, “Close the door.”
By the time Asu Chu obeyed, Ti found the strength to strip off all her clothes, careful to place the tin cup on a bedside table. Dipping her fingers in the warm blood, she rubbed it all over her face, arms, torso, and legs.
Asu Chu stared at her in astonishment.
She handed the cup to him. “Remember what your father said. This needs to cover my skin so I can heal.” Her strength renewed with every passing moment, Ti climbed out of bed without letting a drop of the precious blood smear off her body. She turned her back to Asu Chu. “Cover me with it.”
With a shy touch, Asu Chu obliged, even when Ti prodded him to do a thorough job.
A depth of strength and resolve that Ti had never experienced until this moment coursed through her veins. Turning around to face Asu Chu, she took the cup from his hands and drank the last drops. They both stared at her skin when it absorbed the blood, leaving a soft pink afterglow.
“It worked,” Asu Chu said, staring at the naked empress in wonder.
“It did. Thanks to your bravery, my friend.” Ti whipped her clothes back on, determined to let nothing stand in her way or weaken her ever again.
CHAPTER 24
Groggy and disoriented, Frayka heard a voice she didn’t recognize in the darkness.
“She comes awake,” the voice said. Footsteps echoed away from her, and a metallic ringing echoed in the distance.
“Frayka,” Wendill said. “Open your eyes.”
Gaining clarity, Frayka blinked her eyes open and saw Wendill smiling at her. Torchlight from wall sconces revealed an underground burrow. When Frayka looked toward the metallic ringing, she saw sparks flying in a room at the end of a passageway. But when she tried to sit up on the bedding where she found herself, Frayka cried out in pain. Looking at her body, she saw white bandages stained with fresh blood covering her chest. Startled, she said, “What happened?”
“Lie still,” Wendill said. “You didn’t realize it, but a series of decisions you made placed you in grave danger. That danger is now gone. You will be fine.”
“My child,” Frayka said in a panic. “What about my unborn child?”
Wendill’s smile widened. “Just as safe and sound as you.”
Frayka heaved a sigh of relief. “Tell me what happened. Where am I? Why am I here?”
“To give you the benefit of the doubt,” Wendill said, “you couldn’t have known the consequences of your decisions at the time you made them. None of this is your fault.”
Frustrated, Frayka reached for her dagger out of habit with the intent to give Wendill more incentive to answer her questions. But her dagger and clothing were missing, replaced by a si
mple linen sheet that covered her legs and waist.
“First,” Wendill said, “you decided to drink from the Dragon’s Well at Limru when you were traveling from your home to the Far East. You had no way to know that a goddess of water had revived herself there one winter and left behind water infused with a bit of her essence. That was not a bad decision, because it saved your life when the serpent dragon bit you.”
Frayka adjusted her position, but every move caused shooting pain that made her gasp.
“Next,” Wendill continued, “you decided to eat the meat of a slain serpent dragon. You had no way to know that if you had only eaten the dragon’s meat, it would have caused you no harm. In fact, it gave you a slight ability to change your shape—I noticed at times you grow a bit taller or shrink a bit shorter. That happens in response to what you think of yourself at any given moment. Your sense of smell might sharpen, too, like a dragon’s sense of smell. Unfortunately, when a mortal eats dragon meat after absorbing water from a Dragon’s Well, it can create a bit of a conundrum.”
“Wendill, please,” Frayka said, losing patience. “Tell me what happened.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. When the serpent dragon invaded my garden and attacked you, it set off a reaction inside your body. The water you drank from the Dragon’s Well at the Temple of Limru saved your life. It dissolved the poisons from the serpent dragon’s mouth. But the dragon meat you ate combined with the dissolved poisons and turned them into something stronger that attacked your heart.”
Frayka placed her hand against her chest and winced at the pain. Nonetheless, she felt her heart beating. “You saved my heart?”
“My blacksmiths did.”
“Blacksmiths,” Frayka said. “How can blacksmiths save anyone’s heart?”
“The cure is gold,” Wendill said. “They infused gold into ribbons of iron and placed those ribbons around your heart. More precisely, they used them to shore up your ribcage. The gold permeates your heart and your blood, constantly cleansing it. Of course, they had to cut your body open to put the gold in place. But I found a seamstress who stitched you up nicely. You will bear profound scars, but you will live.”
His words stirred up a memory from Frayka’s childhood. “My father. He once knew a blacksmith covered in scars. He said a dragon chewed her up and spit her out. My father told stories about how she became one of the finest warriors of the Northlands.”
“Yes,” Wendill said softly. “She did.” His tone shifted. “It will take time for you to heal. And it’s best for your child if you stay with me until its birth.”
“No! I can’t allow my child to be born anywhere in the Far East! If I have a girl, she will be in constant danger. And if I have a boy, this country will turn him into a monster!”
“I won’t let either happen,” Wendill said. “Your child will be born in a safe place, and then I will keep both of you safe. If you try to leave now, your body will fail. You will die.”
“You promise you’ll keep us safe?”
“I promise.”
Frayka rested a hand on her belly, covered with the linen sheet. “Will my child be scarred?”
“No. Only you.”
Frayka considered the prospect of remaining with Wendill for the next several months.
She and her husband Njall had traveled from the Land of Ice so that Frayka could find the dragon gods and determine how to make peace between them and the Northlander gods. Being found by Frayka’s great-grandmother and her friend TeaTree had been a welcome surprise, but being captured by a Far Eastern man determined to claim Frayka as his bride had not. No one knew what Emperor Po had done with Njall after the trial that placed Frayka in protection, but Frayka had promised to continue her mission to convince all the dragon gods in the Far East to work with her while GranGran and TeaTree searched for Njall.
I must keep that promise. It’s not just the safety of me and Njall and the surviving Northlanders at risk. My child’s safety now depends on keeping that promise, too.
“I will stay,” Frayka said, “on one condition.”
“I make no promises other than to keep you and your child safe,” Wendill said. “But you can tell me your condition.”
“Help me,” Frayka said. “Join my mission to convince the Northlander gods to make peace with the dragon gods. Kikita, the dragon goddess of water, has joined me. I need you, too. And I need you to help me find the other dragon gods and convince them.”
“You gained my allegiance when you risked your life to protect my garden from the serpent dragon. The beast is little more than a pest, but you saved many mortal lives by keeping the dragon from devouring the garden. You did as I asked and more. Of course, I will join your mission and help you find the other dragon gods of the Far East.” Wendill laughed. “But they won’t listen to me. I can lead you to them, but you’ll be on your own in trying to talk any sense into them.”
Frayka took a deep breath, wincing at the pain it caused. Smiling at Wendill, she said, “That is a promise I can live with.”
Gate of Fire
by Resa Nelson
Gate of Fire
Copyright © 2017 by Resa Nelson
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Cover Art © 2017 by Eric Wilder
Second Edition December 2018
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the invention of the author, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, event, or locale is entirely coincidental.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Many thanks to fellow authors Carla Johnson and Tom Sweeney, who read this novel before publication and gave me excellent feedback. I also very much appreciate the wonderful help and feedback I received from fellow author Alison Chan.
Also, thanks to Sydney Lee for reaching out and sharing her thoughts about race and female characters in fiction. Thank you, Sydney, for our conversations and for your thoughts about this novel. If not for the inspiration from our conversations, this series wouldn’t exist.
CHAPTER 1
Frayka woke up knowing the day had come to defy Wendill, the dragon god of earth.
But first she had to get out of bed. Struggling to sit up, she felt the uncomfortable tug of the large new scar running down the center of her chest and curving around the bottom of her ribcage.
After being bitten by a serpent dragon with a bite poisonous enough to kill any mortal, Frayka lived only because of Wendill’s help—he told her he had his blacksmiths infuse gold into ribbons of iron placed around her heart. Whether that was true or simply a ruse for keeping her and her unborn child inside his home, she had no idea. He’d asked her to stay so he could understand Frayka better before agreeing to help her. But several weeks had passed since then.
Wendill told me weeks ago that I’ve earned his trust. He thinks I need more time to heal, but he’s wrong. I’m fine.
Frayka rested a hand on her still-flat belly. Unborn child or not, it was time for her to go.
Forcing herself to rise, Frayka gathered her few belongings, then looked up to see Wendill standing in the doorway.
He looked at the drinking skin and dagger in her hands. “You’re not leaving?”
Frayka pushed her long black hair over her shoulders in defiance and met his gaze with her dark brown eyes. She tried to breeze past him out the door, but it took all her energy to take a single step. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but if I don’t convince the rest of the dragon gods to make amends to the Northlander gods—and soon—my people will die.”
Wendill walked to Frayka and placed his hands on her shoulders. “If you try to leave now, your body will fail. You will die. And so will your child.”
“I’m healed,” Frayka said. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Haven’t you noticed your own exhaustion? Your body needs more time to heal. It needs strength to create the baby inside you.” Wendill guided her back into bed. “Sleep,” he said. “Rest and recover.”
Fr
ayka tried to protest, but fatigue overtook her and she fell asleep instead.
* * *
Later that day, Frayka woke up and checked to make sure she was alone in her room. The dragon god had provided her with a bed made of soft, warm earth that shaped to her body along with a blanket of soft moss. Its pungent scent made her nose twitch.
Once more, she struggled but succeeded in standing up. Her body cried out for more sleep, but Frayka gathered her things and made her way outside.
Frayka made the trek from Wendill’s home to the Gate of Earth. Even though she craved more rest and longed to go back to bed, Frayka pushed on. The Northlander gods expected results. What if she failed simply because she took too much time?
Weeks ago when she had first looked for the Gate of Earth, Frayka struggled to find it. Although it stood in plain sight, Wendill’s trickery kept it well hidden from mortal eyes.
The opposite held true when Frayka looked for the gate from inside the dragon’s realm. Retracing her steps, Frayka found the gate with ease.
The Gate of Earth stood like a doorway that might have been taken from inside Wendill’s home. Ornate carvings of flowers, fruits, birds, and dragons adorned the polished jade gate that sparkled in the sunlight. The gate blended in with the mountainside forest of the mortal world that stood behind it.
Peering through the gate, Frayka caught a glimpse through the forest of the broken spine of a mountain range that looked like a slaughtered dragon. Bright green pines covered its back instead of scales.
For a moment, Frayka regretted her failure to bid farewell to Wendill. She owed her life to the dragon god, but if he knew she was leaving, he would try to stop her.
Frayka walked up to the gate, where fallen brittle leaves covered a wide step carved from rock in front of its threshold.
The leaves crunched beneath her feet when Frayka stepped onto the rock’s flat surface. She then attempted to walk through the gate but bounced off an invisible force that blocked her.