The Dragon Gods Box Set

by Resa Nelson

  Ti laughed again, but not so hard this time. “Now you’re just telling fairy tales.”

  “It’s no tale,” Njall said. “It’s the truth.”

  Ti considered her most unusual concubine, even though he hadn’t done anything to earn that title yet. He acquiesced to being in her presence, but his body stayed as tense as always when she touched him.

  Maybe he’s trying to distract me with these wild claims. Maybe he thinks it will buy him time.

  But when Ti looked into the Northlander’s eyes, the defiance still flamed strong.

  What if he’s telling the truth?

  That thought piqued Ti’s curiosity. “If it’s true that the dragon gods destroyed the Northlands, why would they do such a thing? What did the Northlanders do to make them so mad?”

  For the first time since Njall had been brought into the Hall of Concubines, he smiled. “Somehow, decades or maybe even centuries ago, the dragon gods infiltrated the Northlands. For some reason, the Northlanders forgot about their own gods and worshipped the dragon gods instead. But a man who forced people to believe in a new god began to take over countries. That offended the dragon gods. They killed him and all the people who believed in the new god.”

  Ti found his story difficult to believe, but she played along. “The dragon gods destroyed the Northlands—”

  “And the Midlands and the Southlands.”

  Ti corrected her statement. “The dragon gods destroyed all those countries and the people who lived in them because those people offended by giving their loyalty to a new god.”

  “No,” Njall said. “You don’t understand.”

  Ti groaned, becoming tired of the game. “What do I not understand?”

  “Why the dragon gods did what they did. It had nothing to do with a new god. It’s because a man forced people to change their beliefs. It’s because he and the people he converted took control of countries and destroyed lives.” Njall paused, and the look in his eyes turned to steel. “The dragon gods destroyed those countries because they’d been tainted by that man and his followers. The dragon gods cleansed the world, even though it meant good Northlanders would have to die. That’s the price the dragon gods were willing to pay to protect the rest of the world from an evil man.”

  The more Njall talked, the less comfortable Ti felt in his presence. When she tried to stand, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her back down to face him.

  “If the dragon gods were willing to sacrifice the lives of Northlanders who loved them,” Njall said, “what do you think they’ll do to you?”

  Startled, Ti said, “Me? I have no quarrel with the dragon gods.” Although Ti didn’t believe in any kind of god, a sourness in her stomach climbed up to her throat, making her uncomfortable.

  What if Tao Chu is right? What if a dragon god—not a magician—made the woman made of twigs? What if Njall is right about what happened in the Northlands?

  What if dragon gods really do exist?

  “Maybe the dragon gods have been gone from the Far East for so long that they don’t know how people are punished,” Njall said. “I know your father had a woman boiled alive.”

  Ti pulled her wrist free of Njall’s grasp but remained sitting across from him. “I had nothing to do with that.”

  “But you’re like your father,” Njall said, searching her eyes. “I can see it. And the dragon gods will see it, too. When they find out how you treat your people, they’ll kill you.”

  “Silence!” Ti stood up so fast that her head spun. Her vision turned inside out so that light became dark and dark turned to light. When she looked down at Njall, his blurry image appeared to have black hair and skin. Staying perfectly still to keep her balance, Ti cried out for help. “Jojen!”

  Within moments, footsteps pounded across the floor, and she heard Jojen’s voice nearby. “Empress Ti?”

  Ti’s vision went white, as if dark clouds had parted and dazzling sunlight blinded her. She reached out, relieved when the royal guard took her hands and stepped close. “Empress Ti? Are you alright?” When Jojen spoke, the sweet smell of clove tea on his breath calmed the empress.

  She clung to his hands. “Take this concubine back to his cell and lock him inside. Then return to me and take me back to the royal palace.”

  “Of course, my empress.”

  A moment of panic seized Ti when Jojen’s touch went away, but she stood in place while her vision returned. She thought about the horrible things Njall had said to her.

  It’s not true. None of it’s true. Gods don’t exist. They’re not real.

  Ti remembered something her father had once told her when she was younger. He’d explained the theory about the Great Emperor of the spirit realm, a theory handed down from generation to generation within the Po Dynasty. She remembered the story that when a real emperor in the mortal realm went into the Temple of Dark and Light to request help from the Great Emperor of the spirit realm, that Great Emperor was one made up of the spirits of all the dead emperors who had ever ruled in the Far East.

  She wanted to believe that story, because Ti liked the idea that—as empress—she could go into the Temple of Dark and Light and talk to her father. After all, if the Great Emperor contained all the spirits of all the emperors, that meant her father’s spirit existed as part of that Great Emperor.

  Ti wished she could speak with her father again. She wouldn’t apologize for causing his death, because she saw no other way to ensure her own survival. Emperor Po would understand. Ti knew he loved her. But no man could fully comprehend the danger every woman in the Far East faced by the mere fact of being a woman. No man could understand a woman’s desperation to survive and find freedom unless he had lost his own.

  Maybe I should ask Jojen to escort me to the Temple of Dark and Light. Maybe I should talk to the Great Emperor and ask my father for help. Maybe all the spirits that reside within the Great Emperor can see the future. Maybe those spirits can tell me if the dragon gods exist and can hurt me.

  “Empress Ti?” Jojen said.

  Ti looked up to see the royal guard had returned. The dizziness vanished, and Ti saw Jojen and the room in which they stood with ease and clarity.

  “My empress,” Jojen said. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  It’s all nothing but fairy tales. I can’t believe I almost let Njall convince me that dragon gods are real. Nothing is real but what I see in front of me.

  Ti slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. Njall angered her because he still refused to touch her, which only deepened her yearning. She vowed to persist. The day that Njall finally relented would be one of her sweetest victories. “I’m fine, Jojen. Take me back to the palace.”

  The empress decided the time had come to put the next phase of her plan into motion.

  Njall is locked away where he can do no harm. By now, Madam Po has received the message telling her that Frayka’s daughter is a monster. Madam Po will want to find Frayka and see for herself what the girl child looks like. All I have to do is make sure my guards follow her.

  It’s time to let Madam Po think she can escape.

  CHAPTER 15

  Following Wendill’s directions, Frayka stepped through the Gate of Earth from the dragon god’s realm into the mortal realm and then looked for a path leading upwards toward the mountain peak. Frayka travelled that path until she reached the summit, where the path split in three directions.

  Standing on the mountain peak, Frayka held Dagby close under the black cloth covering them. By the infant’s stillness, Frayka knew Dagby was asleep and felt comforted by the warmth of her breath against Frayka’s skin. Remembering what Wendill told her, Frayka chose the path to her left and followed it along the mountain ridge. By the end of the day, Frayka reached a point where the path branched down toward the sea below. The path led to a bay clustered with houses.

  More than ever, Frayka wished she hadn’t offended her portents so much that they’d abandoned her.

  Would it be
safer to go to that village in the dark and hope to find a boatman who can take us where we need to go? Or will we be better off spending the night here and meeting the villagers in the light of day?

  Dagby squirmed awake.

  By now, Frayka had become so attuned to her daughter that she knew the girl needed to feed. Frayka found a comfortable place to sit and drew the cloth away to reveal Dagby in the cloth sling that kept the baby attached to her body. After wrangling the infant free of the sling, Frayka placed the child at her breast. While Dagby fed, Frayka enjoyed the view from the mountain peak while the sun set and twilight overcame the seaside village far below. A pale half moon hung on the horizon.

  Once Dagby finished feeding, Frayka held the girl in her lap. “Look,” Frayka said. “Isn’t it pretty?”

  Dagby thrust her head back and looked up at her mother with wide eyes. The little girl wiggled and flopped her arms while staring at Frayka’s face.

  “I’m talking about the night, Dagby. Look at how pretty it is.”

  Dagby laughed. But then the child looked up with the same delight at the stars that began to appear in the sky.

  “Those are stars.” Frayka pointed at a constellation hanging above the village. “See that? That bunch of stars looks like a sword.”

  Dagby squealed with happiness and then squirmed.

  The sound of faint voices drifted on the breeze.

  Following her first instinct, Frayka protected her child.

  Instead of trying to wrestle the baby back into the sling, Frayka reached for the layers of black cloth she wore and covered Dagby with them to hide her. Holding Dagby in place with one hand, Frayka pulled out her dagger with the other.

  But no one came within sight.

  Frayka lowered her dagger.

  I hear people, but they’re not here. Where do the voices come from?

  Listening intently, Frayka determined the sound came from the path that continued along the ridge.

  Frayka eased Dagby back into her sling and rearranged it until the child rested comfortably and snug against her body. Frayka then gathered the black cloth to cover herself again.

  Soon, the child fell asleep.

  Wendill told me to take the path leading down to the sea. But I don’t see one here.

  Frayka followed the ridge, taking slow steps in case she might need to take cover if the owners of those voices came into sight. Eventually, she came upon a path leading down the mountainside.

  Frayka thought back to the directions Wendill had given to her.

  He didn’t say to take the first path I found heading down toward the sea. He simply said to take the path down to the sea.

  Now she could tell that the voices drifted up from the village below. It would be easier to observe the people in that village in daylight. And once she observed them, Frayka could decide if she felt safe going to them.

  Looking down the path leading to the village by the sea, Frayka made her decision.

  It won’t hurt to wait until morning. Maybe in the morning my portents will tell me which direction to take.

  Frayka caught her breath, remembering that the portents had abandoned her months ago. She suspected they would never return, but the habit of thinking about them was a hard one to break.

  Frayka found a small and empty cave where they could settle down for the night, trusting when the break of dawn came that she would awake knowing which path to take, portents or not.

  CHAPTER 16

  That night, Madam Po whispered her prayers to the dragon gods after TeaTree had fallen asleep on the opposite side of the small room in which they were imprisoned. “Most honorable gods and goddesses of the Far East, the Wulong Province, and the city of Zangcheen. I seek your wisdom and guidance for myself and my colleague TeaTree. Please show me the path of greatest acumen and reverence toward the goal of finding my great-granddaughter Frayka and her husband Njall. Please show me how to help them regain their freedom.”

  Madam Po willed her body to relax on her mattress. “Please send my guide to me in my dreams tonight.” She focused on every breath and ignored all else.

  Soon, Madam Po opened her eyes and saw that she stood in a field of wildflowers. The Mountains of Dawn stood before her. Turning around, she saw Zangcheen in the distance.

  Madam Po walked through soft grass until she came upon a narrow path. She followed that path through the mountains. When she reached their foothills, Madam Po looked up at the familiar fingerling mountain standing between her and the extensive plain of cracked earth that stretched toward the still-distant city.

  Madam Po’s heart beat faster at the sight of her guide—the spirit of her dead husband, Hsu Mao—walking from behind the fingerling mountain to face her. Like always, he looked like he enjoyed the prime of his life, handsome and strong. Like always, Madam Po wished the formalities of the portents weren’t necessary. She’s much rather be swept up in her husband’s arms than follow the rules of establishing a connection with him. But she’d learned from experience that making any attempt to force a portent typically resulted in ending it.

  More than ever, Madam Po knew she had to do everything expected of her. Eight months had passed since her last portent, and every time a false one presented itself, her frustration mounted.

  Is this a true portent at last? Or will it be just as useless as the others?

  “Husband!” Madam Po shouted. “Can you hear me?”

  In response, Hsu Mao appeared to shout, but the only sound Madam Po heard was the wind.

  Madam Po pointed to her ears to indicate she couldn’t hear him.

  Typically, this is where the false portent would end. Hsu Mao would dissipate into dust, leaving Madam Po alone. That’s when she would come awake.

  This time, Hsu Mao walked toward her until they stood face to face. He spoke again. Although he made no sound, Hsu Mao moved his lips so distinctly that Madam Po could read them.

  Magic.

  Awash with hope, Madam Po repeated herself, although she spoke in a normal tone this time. “Husband, can you hear me?”

  Hsu Mao smiled broadly and nodded his head.

  “You can hear me!” Madam Po’s mind raced. How could she make the most of this flawed portent before it ended? “You said the word ‘magic.’ What magic?”

  Once again, Hsu Mao mouthed the word “magic” and then clamped both hands over his mouth.

  Even though Madam Po lived in the mortal world and her husband existed in the spirit realm, their connection remained strong. In all the time they’d known each other in mortal life, they had understood each other so well and with such clarity that they found it easy to guess each other’s thoughts and read each other’s gestures.

  “Magic has silenced you,” Madam Po said.

  Hsu Mao let his hands fall away from his mouth and nodded to confirm.

  Madam Po’s mind raced.

  Now we’re getting somewhere.

  “If it’s magic, does that mean that magic was performed by the royal magician or his son? Or both?”

  Again, Hsu Mao nodded to confirm. He held one hand parallel to the ground and raised it as if measuring someone’s height. His hand stopped when it reached the height of his own head.

  “The royal magician, Tao Chu.” Confounded, Madam Po said, “Why would Tao Chu use magic to interfere with my portents?”

  Staring at her, Hsu Mao crossed his arms and shook his head in disappointment.

  “Truly? It’s something obvious?” Madam Po ticked off the most obvious reasons she could think of. “He doesn’t like me.”

  Hsu Mao rolled his eyes in dismay.

  “It’s not that,” Madam Po said. She knew she had to think of logical and simple answers, because that’s how she typically uncovered the truth in any situation.

  She considered logic first.

  “Tao Chu is the royal magician. He served the Emperor Po and now serves the Empress Ti. Therefore, he must be using magic to prevent my portents at her command.” She frowned. “But
why? Most emperors want someone like me who can warn them of anything in a portent that could bring harm or danger to an emperor.”

  Hsu Mao tilted his head and raised his eyebrows to question her statement.

  “It’s true!” Madam Po protested. Then she considered that her husband’s spirit probably witnessed everything Madam Po experienced, including her interactions with the empress. “I admit I don’t trust Ti.”

  Hsu Mao’s eyebrows lifted even higher.

  “I don’t trust Empress Ti,” Madam Po admitted, “because I think she caused her father’s death. I know it wasn’t her hand that killed him, but I think she was the force behind it. That makes her a murderess.”

  Hsu Mao gave her a slight nod.

  “So, I’m right!” Madam Po considered everything she knew about the magician and his son. “Tao Chu would never have killed Emperor Po—they were the best of friends. That means Asu Chu did it, which makes sense because he and Ti have been friends for years. I doubt Tao Chu approved or even knew about his son’s actions until it was too late. Tao Chu must fear for his life—if Asu Chu and Ti can kill an emperor, they’re capable of doing any foul deed. And if Tao Chu fears for his life, he’ll do anything Empress Ti wants.”

  Hsu Mao smiled.

  Everything shimmered, and Madam Po understood that this flawed portent could fall apart at any moment.

  “Husband, please,” Madam Po said. “Is there anything I need to know?”

  Hsu Mao responded by looking over his shoulder at the fingerling mountain behind him.

  This is where Frayka was captured as a bride by Ming Mo. It’s where I came back to climb the mountain, walk through the Gate of Air, and ask the dragon goddess Kikita for help. It’s where Frayka later met her. But which of these events is important?

  “Tell me,” Madam Po said. “The same way you told me about magic. I need to know what it is about this place that matters.”

  Although Hsu Mao stood more than an arm’s length away, the sensation of being shaken by his hands startled Madam Po. She stared at her husband’s spirit, who still stood with his arms crossed.