The Dragon Gods Box Set

by Resa Nelson

  Thanks to a friendship that had lasted for decades, TeaTree understood at once. Although Madam Po spoke broken Northlander, her understanding of the language was flawless. In the habit of speaking Far Eastern with her, TeaTree switched to Northlander. “I’ve been worried about you. Are you a prisoner here?”

  Madam Po nodded. “You?”

  Startled by the question, TeaTree considered the locked door behind him. “I don’t know. I asked to see you. I wasn’t expecting to be locked up. But in case I’m here for only a visit, let me tell you what I’ve learned during the past eight months.” Before continuing, TeaTree remembered Madam Po’s advice.

  Walls hear.

  Even though he spoke Northlander, which no Far Easterner other than Madam Po understood, TeaTree knew the names would be recognized by anyone eavesdropping. Therefore, he had to be careful not to use them.

  “I heard rumors about your great-granddaughter. Did you know the empress sent her to a mountain village with a girl whose sister was given to a serpent dragon?”

  Madam Po nodded. “Where now? Still alive?”

  “Yes,” TeaTree said. “Your great-granddaughter is still alive to the best of my knowledge. I haven’t seen her, but when I travelled through the mountains in the southern reaches of the province, I heard rumors of a Northlander woman. Your great-granddaughter witnessed the killing of the serpent dragon and then disappeared. No one knows where she went, and the empress claims she hasn’t come back to the city.”

  Madam Po shrugged, and TeaTree took her meaning at once.

  Empress Ti might be lying. Maybe Frayka is here and locked up in another room somewhere inside the palace. Or Frayka might be in Zangcheen without Ti’s knowledge.

  “Husband?” Madam Po said.

  TeaTree shook his head. “I found no trace of him. No one outside of the city has seen a Northlander. But when I reached the outermost reaches of the province, I learned something disturbing. And it’s not rumors, but facts.”

  Madam Po raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

  Walls hear.

  Although troubled, TeaTree didn’t show it or let the concern he felt creep into his voice. If they were being watched or heard, he wanted those observers to think his conversation with Madam Po to be casual.

  Otherwise, he might put both of them at risk.

  So TeaTree used the same light-hearted tone that came naturally to him when he showed his wares to potential buyers. “Many people in that part of the province told me that newborn infants are being stolen. No one knows how it’s happening, and they presume it’s some type of magic at work. New parents go to sleep at night with their child tucked safely between them. And when they wake up, the child is gone with no evidence that anything has gone amiss. No footsteps or animal tracks. No disturbances of any kind. Nothing they do can prevent it. It’s a mystery.”

  Madam Po retained the relaxed expression on her face. “How many?”

  “Dozens.” TeaTree offered her a false but bright smile. “Maybe one hundred. And the disappearances keep happening.”

  A loud clicking sound made TeaTree look back at the door, which creaked open.

  “Enough,” the royal guard Jojen said. “Come with me.”

  TeaTree cast a glance at Madam Po and then walked toward Jojen.

  The royal guard held up a halting hand. “Not you. Her. Empress Ti is ready for her lesson.”

  Switching to speak Far Eastern, TeaTree said, “Lesson?”

  “Yes.” Madam Po collected herself and her cane. When she walked past TeaTree, she patted his shoulder. “The Empress Ti has employed me to teach her how to fight.”

  The increasing dread that TeaTree felt deepened when Madam Po walked out the door and Jojen closed and locked it.

  * * *

  By the time Frayka made her way through the burrows and joined Wendill’s side, she felt peculiar.

  Wendill’s face twisted in puzzlement. “Are you well?”

  Frayka felt water run down her legs, and she lifted her skirts to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. In that moment, she remembered being with other Northlander women when their childbearing moments had come upon them.

  Suddenly realizing she had no mother or sisters or friends to help her, Frayka felt seized by panic. “It’s time! What do I do?”

  Wendill led her to the edge of the garden and helped Frayka ease onto the slope. “I’m here,” Wendill said. “Everything will be fine.” Kneeling by her side, he took her hand in his. “There is no better place to be. The earth gives birth every day. The trees around you bear fruit. The plants circling the pond bear vegetables. They will help.”

  “How?” Frayka said, now feeling pain. “Will that apple tree deliver my baby?”

  Wendill tightened his grip on her hand.

  I wish I were home in Blackstone. I wish I were with my family and friends.

  Frayka reminded herself that she had just as much strength as any Northlander woman.

  She waited for her baby to arrive. After several more hours passed, Frayka winced at the stabbing pain of cramps in her abdomen that lasted for several minutes and then disappeared. “The baby must be coming now,” Frayka told Wendill.

  “I think,” Wendill said, “this is only the beginning.”

  For the next several hours, Frayka endured periods of peacefulness alternating with the shattering pain of her insides twisting into excruciating knots. During the restful times, she winced at the discomfort of the intense pressure.

  Wendill convinced Frayka to stand. He helped her walk through the garden, claiming that it would help encourage the baby to move into place for delivery. For hours, Frayka reminded herself of her strength as a Northlander woman. But as the pain numbed her mind, she gave in to crying and screaming.

  “This was a terrible idea!” Frayka told Wendill. She felt terrified and angry. “I don’t want to have a baby! Someone needs to take it back.”

  Wendill helped Frayka lie on a slope so that her child could slide down through her body.

  Frayka closed her eyes when the pain became so intense that she saw white light flash behind her eyes. She held onto Wendill’s arms and dug her fingernails into his skin when she felt as if her body were splitting in two, horrified at the feeling of her flesh ripping apart. The stench of Frayka’s own blood sickened her. All she wanted was for the pain to end.

  Wendill pulled himself out of Frayka’s grip so he could catch her emerging baby.

  The intense pressure passed through her body, and she felt some relief.

  “Your daughter is here,” Wendill said.

  Frayka felt spent and wanted to sleep. She then panicked at the reality of the depth and breadth of her new responsibility.

  Wendill held the baby up for Frayka to see.

  Frayka stared in confusion. “She looks like a little purple carrot. Why is she purple?”

  “She’s bruised,” Wendill said. “The journey was difficult for her, too. And she has the disadvantage of not knowing what just happened to her.”

  “She’s so small.” Frayka squinted. “She took over my body for such a long time, and now my body is my own again.”

  Frayka worried that she felt so removed from the infant.

  But when Wendill placed the child in Frayka’s arms, those feelings melted away. The love that overwhelmed Frayka made her feel fiercer and stronger than ever.

  Wendill carried Frayka and her baby through the burrows to Frayka’s quarters in his home.

  “I will send word to your great-grandmother,” Wendill said. “I will let her know that you are well. I will let her know you have a healthy daughter.”

  “How?” Frayka said. “There’s no one else here.”

  Wendill smiled. “You forget I am a dragon god.”

  * * *

  Wendill made his way to the Gate of Earth.

  The polished jade structure looked like a doorway taken out of a palace. Wendill imagined mortals would think the gate seemed out of place in a mountainside forest. At t
he same time, it appeared like a natural element of that forest.

  For a moment, Wendill considered travelling to Zangcheen himself. Decades ago, he’d lived among mortals, sometimes in the shape of a dragon and sometimes in the shape of a man. But like his fellow Far Eastern dragon gods, he didn’t want to return to the mortal world.

  Let the mortals have their world. I’m happy in my own realm.

  Wendill also felt concern for Frayka. He trusted her and knew Frayka to be strong, but it didn’t feel right to leave her alone with a newborn.

  It’s better to find someone else who can deliver the message to Madam Po.

  The dragon god crossed the threshold of the Gate of Earth to enter the mortal realm. For years he’d sensed the presence at the nearby brook of all who came to fish. One particular man fished often and never failed to leave an offering for the gods. Wendill paused and sniffed the air, detecting a familiar odor.

  Making his way through the woods, Wendill then walked alongside the brook until he saw the old man on the opposite side of the bank.

  The old man looked up at Wendill’s presence and gave a friendly wave. The brook ran so narrow that if the old man had picked up a stone, one good throw would deliver it to Wendill’s hands.

  “Thank you,” Wendill called out. “I appreciate your offerings.”

  “Pardon?” the old man answered, tilting his head in befuddlement.

  “The fish. I thank you for the fish you offer to me before you take your catch home.”

  The old man stared at Wendill for a few moments and then laughed heartily.

  He thinks I jest.

  “Truly,” Wendill said. “I am the god who accepts your kind offerings.”

  The old man laughed even harder.

  I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.

  With a sigh of resignation, Wendill transformed from his mortal shape into the body of a dragon. His growing form ripped through his clothing, and it fell to the ground. His skin changed to slate-colored scales that gleamed in the sun. His limbs bowed out, and his tail thrashed from side to side. Wendill’s long tongue flicked out of his gaping jaws, tasting the man’s sudden fear in the air.

  Letting go of his fishing pole, the old man dropped down and bowed until his forehead rested on the ground. “Please!” the old man said. “I meant no disrespect.”

  Wendill reversed the transformation until he regained his mortal shape. Now naked, he waded through the chilly waters of the brook. Once on its other side, he sat down on a boulder next to the old man. “No disrespect taken. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Yes, my dragon god.” The old man’s voice shook with fear.

  Wendill strove to be welcoming. The last thing he needed was a fearful man. “As I said, I’m grateful for the many offerings from you. And for so many years.”

  The old man remained with his forehead against the ground. “Yes, my dragon god.”

  The direct approach may be the best.

  “I’m here to ask for your help,” Wendill said. “For something of great importance.”

  With caution, the old man sat up. He took a quick glance at Wendill but then returned his gaze to the ground. “My help?”

  “Yes. Can you find your way to the city of Zangcheen?”

  The old man nodded. “I have family there. Sometimes I visit.”

  His answer gave Wendill hope. “Good! I would like you to visit them now. Ask them if they know of Madam Po.”

  Forgetting his fear, the old man looked up and smiled at Wendill. “Madam Po! I know her myself. She’s a friend to many families. She shares her portents, you know. She warned my sister away from a man who later made another woman a terrible husband.”

  Wendill smiled. “I have an important message for Madam Po. I need you to find her, and you must give this message to her and her alone. It is of the utmost importance. Do you think you can do that for me?”

  The old man beamed. “It would be my greatest honor, my dragon god.”

  After Wendill sent the old man on his way with the fish he had already caught and the message for Madam Po, he crossed the brook again. Before heading back toward the Gate of Earth, he collected what remained of his clothing, disappointed but not surprised to find them shredded into little more than rags.

  CHAPTER 8

  Empress Ti ended court early in the day and called for Madam Po to join her in the Hall of Justice. At Ti’s command, the royal guards lined the courtroom benches alongside the walls to clear the space for the empress to continue her weapons training.

  When Madam Po arrived, she bowed. “My empress, I implore you. My friend TeaTree just now arrived from spending most of this past year trading his wares throughout the Wulong Province. Would you most kindly be willing to delay your practice so I might talk to him?”

  Empress Ti didn’t trust either Madam Po or the merchant TeaTree. She didn’t like the way the expressions on their faces changed when Ti entered a room. She didn’t like the way they stopped talking so abruptly or even switched to speaking Northlander, a language Ti didn’t understand. She allowed them to speak briefly today with the intent of letting them exchange just enough information to make them worry.

  “I just now dismissed people who travelled across the province to see me and ask for my help,” Ti said. “I did it because I must learn how to defend myself.”

  “Your guards are loyal and faithful,” Madam Po said. She swept her arms across the room toward the guards lining the walls. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  “And what if that changes?” Ti said. “No one could have imagined that my father would die in a strange accident, but it happened.”

  “That is your final ruling?” Madam Po said. “That his death happened by accident?” Her eyes hardened with suspicion.

  “What else could it possibly be?” Ti said. Determined to prevent Madam Po from dwelling on the subject, Ti changed it. “I have gone to great lengths to spend this afternoon training with you. I expect you to oblige.”

  Madam Po nodded, and the training began.

  When they had first begun eight months ago, Madam Po instructed the guards how to attack the empress, while showing Ti how to defend herself against them. But that teaching technique didn’t last for long. After just a few days, Madam Po let the guards decide for themselves how to attack. The old woman then provided Ti with advice that produced poor results.

  Ti suspected that Madam Po had decided to fail the empress in order to leave her vulnerable to a physical attack. Even worse, Ti believed Madam Po wanted the empress to be awash with false confidence.

  Madam Po leaned on her cane and shuffled toward the nearest bench by the wall, obviously intent on taking her usual spot.

  “No,” Ti said. “Stay on the floor, Madam Po.”

  The old woman kept shuffling and shook her head. “It’s far too much a strain on my aged bones.”

  As always, the royal guard Jojen stood near Ti’s side. She turned to him and said, “Attack Madam Po.”

  Startled, Jojen looked from Ti to Madam Po and then back at Ti again.

  “Attack her,” Ti said.

  With his staff weapon already in hand, Jojen sprinted toward the old woman and stood in her path.

  Grunting, Madam Po turned to walk around him.

  Jojen held his staff between them, holding it like a barrier.

  If Ti hadn’t been so fond of Jojen, she would have demoted him on the spot. Instead, she marched toward them. “I told you to attack her!”

  Jojen looked at the empress with the wide eyes of a hunted animal. “But the laws say to cause no harm to an elder.”

  One especially helpful trick Ti had learned from Madam Po was how to move quickly. Ti rushed up to Jojen and wrenched the staff out of his hands before he realized it.

  Ti stepped away from Jojen, spun around, and swung the staff with all her might at Madam Po’s head.

  Before the staff could strike the old woman, Ti felt the sharp sting of Madam Po’s cane across h
er knees and fell hard on the floor.

  Jojen dropped to Ti’s side and offered her a hand up. “I apologize, my empress. I didn’t know what to do!”

  Ti stood and faced Madam Po, who stood unharmed.

  Although Ti spoke to Jojen, she kept her gaze on Madam Po. The empress trusted that the old woman knew better than to try to walk away again. “Did you see how I struck at Madam Po?”

  “Yes, my empress,” Jojen said. His voice revealed his confusion and troubled thoughts.

  “Did you see how Madam Po struck back at me?”

  Jojen hesitated. “Everything happened so fast. I’m not sure what I saw.”

  Ti smiled. “Then let’s get some help.” She pointed at a small group of guards nearby. “All of you come here and watch.”

  Once the other guards stood close at hand, Ti struck out at Madam Po again.

  This time, Madam Po simply stepped to one side and knocked Jojen’s staff out of Ti’s hands.

  Still watching the old woman, Ti said to Jojen, “What just happened?”

  “You attacked Madam Po, and she stopped you.” He bent down and picked up his staff from where it had landed on the floor.

  “The same as before?”

  “No. She did something different.”

  “What was different?”

  Jojen paused and studied Madam Po as if she were a puzzle to be solved. “The first time Madam Po defeated you, she moved so quickly that I couldn’t follow her movements. I don’t know how she did it. But this time, she moved slower, and I could follow what she did. When you attacked, Madam Po stepped to the side, which meant she stepped out of the way of the incoming blow. You had already committed to delivering that blow, so it was too late for you to change direction.”

  Ti smiled. She had not only noticed the same thing but felt it. “And then?”

  Jojen stared into space and his eyes darted from side to side as if remembering what he saw. “Madam Po raised her cane when she stepped to the side. She then pivoted and brought the cane down across your arms. Because she faced you from the side, the entire length of your arms provided her with a large target. It would be impossible for anyone to miss such a target.”

  Before anyone realized what happened, Ti took the staff out of Jojen’s hand and brought it down toward Madam Po’s head.