The Dragon Gods Box Set

by Resa Nelson

  TeaTree whispered, “Now what?”

  “We wait,” Madam Po said.

  CHAPTER 10

  Ti secluded herself in the council room with the royal magician, Tao Chu, and his son, Asu Chu. She saw no reason to be coy with either. “By the end of every day, I feel the peculiar weakness in my bones that happens before they turn to jelly. I drink the blood and bathe in it each night, and the following morning I wake up feeling fine.”

  “Then my father’s solution works,” Asu Chu said. He looked at Ti with bright and alert eyes.

  “It works,” Ti said, “but what happens if someone finds out what I’m doing? What happens if the advisors find out I’m weak?” She gave a hardened look to the royal magician. “It won’t be just my neck on the line. If they see a chance to take my power away, they’ll destroy you for helping me.”

  With his elbows propped on the council table, Tao Chu rested his chin against clasped hands. “What would my empress have me do?”

  “Tell me what’s possible,” Ti said. If Ti didn’t need him, she would have had him executed. Although the royal magician did everything she asked, whenever Ti saw his face strain, she knew he disagreed with her request. Tao lived today only because he continued to obey the empress. “What if I could get the blood of a baby with Northlander blood?”

  Tao Chu frowned. “Northlander?”

  Ti nodded. “There are stories about Northlanders with the power to change their shape just by thinking about what they want to look like.”

  Asu Chu laughed. “Nobody can do that! Those are just stories.”

  “Not so fast.” Tao Chu wagged a warning finger at his son. “There is some truth in those stories.”

  Asu Chu gawked.

  “Tell me,” Ti said, reveling in a rush of excitement. “How are those stories true?”

  “It happened before you were born,” Tao Chu said. “Back in the days when merchants from the Northlands, Midlands, and Southlands came to the Far East to trade.”

  “Merchants like TeaTree?” Ti said.

  “I believe TeaTree never met shapechangers, but other merchants did. They talked of blacksmiths who gained height and strength before starting their work for the day. And jewelers who made their own fingers so thin that they could use them as tools. The merchants told wild stories but swore they were true.”

  “What would happen if I used the blood of a baby with such powers?” Ti said. “Would it help?”

  Tao Chu fixed his eyes on Ti and spoke in his most serious tone. “Little is known about such things. There’s no way to predict what could happen.”

  Ti refused to give up hope. “But isn’t it possible that such blood could cure me forever? Tell me what you think.” She drew up her courage. “I don’t need guarantees. I want to know what you think might happen.”

  Still staring at Ti, Tao Chu said, “It’s possible, but it’s unwise to assume.” Leaning back in his chair, the magician said, “But the Northlanders were killed over 20 years ago. This fantasy of a Northlander infant is impossible.”

  “Not all of the Northlanders died,” Ti said.

  Tao Chu shook his head. “The Northlands lie empty. No one lives there.”

  “But there are stories about Northlanders who escaped,” Ti said. “The stories say that some people escaped the Northlands before they were destroyed and found other places to live.”

  “Frayka!” Asu Chu said, sitting up straight. “She looks like us, but she’s mostly Northlander by blood.”

  “Frayka?” Tao Chu said, looking in confusion from the empress to his son.

  “That’s the girl who came to Zangcheen eight months ago,” Ti said.

  “Madam Po’s great-granddaughter,” Asu Chu added.

  “Oh, yes,” Tao Chu said. “I remember hearing of her. But she lives in Zangcheen, and we agreed to leave the children of Zangcheen alone. It’s too risky, even to obtain a Northlander infant. If anyone in Zangcheen finds out their children are being killed for your benefit, the entire city would riot against you.”

  “Frayka isn’t in Zangcheen anymore.” Ti grinned. “I sent Frayka away to help a mountain girl, and they never came back. An old mountain man came with a message that Frayka is still in the mountains. She has a baby. So, there’s no problem.”

  Doubt threaded Tao Chu’s voice. “But if the girl is in some mountain village, everyone will know her, especially if they know she’s a member of the Po Dynasty. If you steal away her child, all the villagers will know. And you already know how easy it is for villagers to bring their problems to Zangcheen. That could also lead to an uprising against you.”

  Asu Chu giggled. “No problem. Frayka isn’t in a mountain town. She’s with a dragon god.”

  Tao Chu paled. “A dragon god?”

  Asu Chu giggled louder. “The dragon god of earth!”

  Tao Chu covered his face with his hands, which muffled his words. “How do you expect to steal an infant protected by a dragon god?”

  Ti shrugged. “We can use the same tableau magic that Asu uses to acquire the other babies. Or the magic you use to put up a wall between Madam Po and her portents.”

  Tao Chu shook his head, still keeping his hands over his face. “No magic will work. No dragon god will leave his realm. Not for long.” Finally, the magician let his hands fall away. “And no magic can penetrate the realm of any dragon god.”

  “Then we’ll lure Frayka out,” Ti said. “We’ll think of a way to make her leave and take her baby with her. Once she’s outside the dragon’s realm, she’ll be ours.”

  A knock at the door drew the attention of everyone in the council room. At Ti’s command, the door eased open to reveal Jojen. He lifted his hand to show he held a folded piece of paper. “Madam Po replied,” he said.

  Excited to see her plan in motion, Ti jumped up, took the message, and dismissed Jojen.

  The royal guard exited the room and closed the door behind him.

  “What’s this?” Tao Chu said.

  “We fooled her,” Asu Chu said with delight. “Ti made the envoy tell her what message he’d been told to deliver. Then I wrote a note to Madam Po saying Frayka has married the dragon god and bore a monster of a child!”

  Confused, Tao Chu said, “Why would you tell such an outlandish story?”

  “To control her,” Ti said. “I’ve kept Madam Po under lock and key since I sent Frayka away.”

  “So, I’ve heard,” Tao Chu said in a subdued voice. “Although I couldn’t fathom why.”

  “They suspect,” Ti said.

  “Suspect?”

  Ti addressed the royal magician with a firm voice. “They suspect my father’s death wasn’t an accident. They suspect he was murdered and that I had something to do with it. They know such a murder could only be accomplished by magic. And the only two people in all of the Far East with the ability to perform such magic are sitting in this room with me.”

  Tao Chu stared at Ti for several long moments.

  He’s always suspected me. But he’s also known that I merely would be the one to arrange for my father’s death. Tao Chu knows that if it did happen by magic that Asu must have done it.

  Now Tao Chu knows his suspicions are true.

  “I changed the message to Madam Po because I want to loosen the reins enough to let her escape without realizing I’m letting her escape,” Ti said. “If she thinks Frayka needs help, Madam Po will find her.”

  Tao Chu slumped in his chair. “And all you have to do is have someone follow Madam Po.” His eyes dulled with resignation. “But there’s still the matter of luring Frayka and her baby out of the dragon’s realm.”

  Ti smiled. “I’m surprised you have so little faith in me after all I’ve accomplished. I’m sure the three of us can think of something.”

  Brimming with newfound confidence, Ti read Madam Po’s message with glee and then dictated to Asu Chu so he could write the one to replace it.

  CHAPTER 11

  With every day that passed, Frayka f
elt closer to her new daughter and felt awash with love for her. Holding, feeding, and tending to her made Frayka feel stronger and happier.

  Despite Wendill’s protests for Frayka to spend more time recovering from the child’s birth, Frayka felt no need. “I’m fine,” Frayka said. “I feel strong. But my girl is cooped up. She needs fresh air and sunshine. She needs to see grass and trees and clouds.”

  The infant in her arms gurgled as if in agreement. The baby had wisps of black, silky hair and skin bound to turn brown in the sun, just like Frayka. But the baby also had her father’s round blue eyes.

  “All right,” Wendill said. “You should be safe in this valley while I tend the garden.”

  “No,” Frayka said. “We’re going to the garden with you. I’m strong enough to work, and I can bundle up Dagby and rest her in the grass where I can keep an eye on her.”

  Wendill smiled. “Dagby?”

  “It’s an old Northlander name,” Frayka said. “It means ‘a new day starts.’” She grinned. “That’s what Dagby is. A new day starting fresh.”

  But Frayka sensed that her infant daughter had brought about more than a fresh start and a new day. During her pregnancy, second thoughts plagued Frayka. She wondered if she should have taken the risk of ignoring the Northlander gods and their demand that she find the dragon gods and settle their differences. What if she had stayed in the Land of Ice instead? Surely Frayka and Njall—and now Dagby—would be safe and sound and living happily.

  Or what if she’d been compliant with Emperor Po when she faced him in court? If Frayka had gone against her nature and been quiet and obedient, wouldn’t that have made it possible for the emperor to let her go instead of putting her under lock and key in the Hall of Concubines? The emperor might have allowed Madam Po to take Frayka and Njall in her custody. But Frayka now understood her unruly behavior in the courtroom had sealed her fate.

  The multitude of laws in the Far East didn’t help. Sometimes Frayka wondered why people weren’t punished for breathing.

  No wonder Far Easterners spent so much of their time and effort on appearing to be how everyone else expected them to be. If Far Easterners made even the slightest mistake, the cost could be their very lives. If Emperor Po were still alive, even he would have to act the way his people expected. Otherwise, they might suspect he would become weak, and others might have overthrown him.

  But holding Dagby in her arms and looking into the child’s bright blue eyes shifted the way Frayka looked at the world and at herself.

  I’ve wasted too much time worrying since I arrived in the Far East. I can’t worry about TeaTree or GranGran or even Njall anymore. It’s time to take care of Dagby. That means I have to take care of myself, too. That’s all I can think of from now on. I will trust the people I love to help each other or at the very least help themselves.

  With Dagby bundled in her arms, Frayka walked with Wendill through the burrows until they reached his garden. Frayka moved some round, smooth stones to form a small circle on the grass and gathered moss to line the make-shift nest. After nestling Dagby inside it, Frayka set about her regular tasks of tending the garden while Wendill inspected the trees on the surrounding slopes.

  Before the sun reached its highest point in the sky, a distant voice carried on the wind.

  “Wendill, I’m here.”

  Frayka stood from where she’d been weeding, glancing first at Dagby and seeing the girl sleeping soundly. Next, Frayka waved to attract Wendill’s attention. Moments later, he walked to join her side. They spoke softly to let the child sleep.

  “Did you hear that?” Frayka said.

  Wendill paused and listened as the wind picked up.

  “Wendill, she sent a message for you,” the disembodied voice called.

  “It’s nothing.” Wendill shrugged.

  “But as soon as Dagby came into the world, you sent a message to GranGran,” Frayka said. “And now a voice says a woman sent a message to you. It must be from GranGran.” Normally, Frayka would have felt frantic to get that message. She would have been panic-stricken to get word about Njall or hear from anyone who had been looking for him. Now she simply wanted to be sure Wendill received it in case it had any useful information.

  Wendill leaned down and plucked a blade of grass. When he stood, Wendill placed the blade in his mouth and chewed on it. “That voice comes from the mortal world on the other side of the Gate of Earth. To get that message, I would have to leave you and the child alone here in my realm.”

  Frayka laughed. “We’ll be fine!”

  “I’ll have to cross into the mortal realm. What if something goes wrong?”

  Frayka gave the dragon god a firm look. “Then Dagby and I will come and help you.”

  Wendill stared up at the wind and shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

  Frayka snorted. “What kind of a dragon god are you?”

  “I’m a god who knows all too well about the cruelty of mortals,” Wendill said. “The child matters. We have to keep her safe.”

  “Of course, she matters.”

  “Not just to you. Or to me.” Wendill kept looking at the air around them as if it held some kind of secret. “The child matters in a way I don’t understand yet.”

  “All the more reason to get that message.” Over the months, Frayka had come to know Wendill quite well. She knew what to do to make him listen. Arguing didn’t work. Logic didn’t work. But ignoring him did. She suspected he needed silence to draw his own conclusions before taking action.

  Frayka returned to her weeding.

  The next time the disembodied voice called Wendill’s name, the dragon god said, “Fine. If I’m not back soon, stay safe with Dagby.” Wendill headed toward the burrows, where he would make his way back toward the Gate of Earth.

  Frayka finished her weeding and then turned her attention to checking every plant to see if it bore any fruits or vegetables ready to harvest. Frayka piled up the food she picked behind the make-shift nest she’d created for Dagby, checking on the infant every now and then.

  “Frayka, you should hear this.”

  With a start, Frayka realized Wendill had returned. He held a folded piece of paper in his hand.

  The dragon god walked toward Frayka. Following his lead, Frayka sat on the grass near Dagby. She held out her hand and said, “Let me see.”

  “It’s written in Far Eastern.” Wendill held up the note.

  Although Frayka had learned how to speak the language since arriving, she didn’t know how to read or write. “What does it say?”

  Wendill unfolded the paper and read out loud. “To the Dragon God of Earth. I welcome the news about my great-granddaughter and her new child. I trust you keep them safe, but I can take over that responsibility now. I humbly request your cooperation in returning the girl and her child to me where I am staying at the royal palace. The messenger will bring them back to Zangcheen. With great appreciation, Madam Po.” Wendill folded the note and stared at the ground between his feet.

  Frayka leaned back on her elbows. “GranGran didn’t write that message. She speaks much more boldly, even to a dragon god.”

  “I agree,” Wendill said.

  Frayka sat up straight. “And who in their right mind would think a woman who has just given birth is in any kind of condition to travel such a great distance? Look at what happened today—you didn’t want me to walk as far as this garden, and it’s a short walk. GranGran would never expect me to travel as far as Zangcheen.”

  “I agree again,” Wendill said. “Whoever wrote this note knows nothing about childbirth.”

  “I doubt either TeaTree or Njall wrote it,” Frayka said. “The note says I should go to Zangcheen, so whoever wrote it must live there.”

  “More precisely,” Wendill said, “it says you should go to the royal palace.”

  “So, it’s someone who lives in the royal palace,” Frayka said. “Or someone who works there.” A new thought struck her. “Before you read the note to me, you
knew GranGran didn’t write it. How?”

  Wendill smiled. “The note is addressed to the Dragon God of Earth.” He looked directly into Frayka’s eyes. “If she did write it, she did so under duress and used my title to let me know something is wrong. Under normal circumstances, your great-grandmother would have addressed it to me by name, not title. She would have written, ‘Dear Wendill.’”

  How does GranGran know both the dragon god of air and the dragon god of earth so well?

  Frayka pondered the situation. “What do we do?”

  “I can keep you safe as long as no one enters the Gate of Earth.” Wendill smiled. “And the gate is still locked.”

  Frayka felt as if her heart sank into her stomach. “Maybe it’s time to unlock it. The messenger knew where to find you. What if others are hiding out there, waiting to take me back to Zangcheen?”

  “We don’t know if that’s true,” Wendill said. “You’re far safer here, but I don’t know how much longer that will be true.”

  Frayka considered the possibilities.

  If she left with Dagby right now, they might arrive at the coast by the end of the day. Once Frayka found a ship, they could sail to the Land of Ice and be home in a few days. They would be welcomed by her father and the rest of Frayka’s family and neighbors. They would live in the charming little house built by Frayka’s and Njall’s fathers. Frayka and Dagby would have a safe and good life.

  That isn’t necessarily so.

  Frayka remembered that if she didn’t succeed in making peace between the Northlander gods and the Far Eastern dragon gods that all would be lost. The Northlander gods expected her to succeed. If Frayka failed, all Northlanders could pay the price. The Northlander gods would destroy the rest of the mortals who had once worshipped them.

  That means Dagby’s life would be at risk. She’s a Northlander, too.

  “The All-Father charged me with resolving the feud between the Northlander gods and the dragon gods,” Frayka said, reasoning out her options. “Kikita agreed to help me, so I have the dragon goddess of air on my side. I thought that was enough, but she told me I had to convince the gods and goddesses of all the elements.”