The Dragon Gods Box Set

by Resa Nelson

In a state of boredom, he sequestered himself at the back of the boat where he drew forth his packet of supplies and poked at them.

  The excited shout of a guard startled Asu Chu.

  “There!” the guard shouted. He pointed at a spot near the beach.

  Other guards crowded by his side. “You see the girl?” one of them said.

  “No. It’s a wild man.” The guard shook his still-pointing finger as if that would help his peers understand. “Right there!”

  “I see him, too!” another guard shouted.

  Curious, Asu Chu tucked his supplies back inside their pouch and joined the guards again. “What’s a wild man?”

  One of the guards glanced at the boy. “A man-like creature that lives in the mountains. Some say it’s more of a beast than a man.”

  “They’re covered in fur and matted hair,” another guard said. “And they howl like wolves.”

  Asu Chu looked at the beach and the trees on the slope above it but saw nothing unusual. “Are they dangerous?”

  “Yes,” said the guard still pointing at a wild man Asu Chu couldn’t see. “They say wild men kill people all the time. We would be fools to go ashore.”

  Asu Chu’s mind raced, considering the possibilities. “Would a wild man kill someone like Frayka?”

  “Easily. If she’s anywhere on this mountain, she’ll be dead before morning.”

  “We can’t let that happen,” Asu Chu said.

  An older guard turned toward the boy. “Empress Ti told us to bring Frayka back dead or alive.”

  “Exactly,” Asu Chu said. “If a wild man kills her, how can we bring her back to Zangcheen?”

  Another guard said, “We’re supposed to either return the girl or make sure she’s dead. If a wild man kills Frayka, our work is done.”

  Ti didn’t tell them the real reason we’re here. They don’t know what Ti really wants is the baby. They don’t know that baby’s blood is Ti’s only hope to stay alive.

  And they can’t, because they won’t understand why babies must die to keep Ti alive.

  “Who told you that?” Asu said, mustering the most commanding voice he could imagine. “Because I know the empress didn’t.”

  The guard’s expression froze and he fidgeted. “It’s common sense. If the empress wants her relative returned living or dead, then what’s the urgency in bringing a dead body to Zangcheen?”

  A new thought solved Asu’s dilemma. With growing confidence, he continued with his commanding voice. “Do you forget you’re talking about a distant relative of the empress?”

  “Of course, we know that,” the older guard said.

  “A member of the Po Dynasty,” Asu Chu said. “The same dynasty that has ruled Zangcheen and all the Wulong Province for 1000 years. Frayka isn’t merely a distant relative of Empress Ti. Frayka has the same royal blood running through her veins.”

  An unexpectedly strong wave caused the boat to pitch, and the guards held onto the rail to steady themselves and keep from falling.

  At the same time, Asu Chu leaned against the rail, surprised to find it easy to keep his balance. “Just because Empress Ti wants Frayka returned alive or dead, it doesn’t mean you have the excuse to leave the body of a member of the royal family to rot in the woods. All members of the Po Dynasty must be honored in death as well as life.”

  Shame darkened the faces of the guards. None of them offered an excuse.

  “It’s up to us to help the empress,” Asu Chu said. He drew himself up proud, even though his head failed to reach the shoulders of the shortest guard. “If you’re too afraid to help Frayka, I will. I can save her life. Then it’s up to you to find her so we can bring her home to Zangcheen.”

  “There’s no sense in you climbing up that mountain,” the older guard said in a hushed tone. “It’s suicide.”

  “I don’t have to climb a mountain,” Asu Chu said. “I can save Frayka’s life from here. But someone needs to go to shore and get some things for me. I need a handful of grass, some dirt, and needles and leaves from the trees.”

  The guards stood still, no one willing to move.

  “I’m not asking you to hunt down the wild men and kill them,” Asu said. “Just go to the beach long enough to collect what I need. Or do I need to tell Empress Ti that her guards are such cowards that they’ll do anything to save themselves and nothing to save her own flesh and blood?”

  The older guard nudged one of his peers. “Go ahead. Do what he says. It won’t take long.”

  A guard swung his legs over the boat’s railing and jumped into the water. Because the boat now drifted close to shore, he stood chest-high in the sea and slogged his way toward the beach.

  Back on the boat, Asu Chu strolled toward a young guard. Strands of chin-length black hair framed the guard’s face.

  “Give me your knife,” Asu Chu said to the young guard.

  The young guard looked in confusion at the older guard, who nodded consent. The young guard withdrew his knife and offered its handle to the boy.

  Accepting it, Asu Chu quickly sliced off strands of hair framing the guard’s face and clutched them with his free hand. Happy with the outcome, the boy examined the knife. “This will do nicely. I will borrow it.”

  A short time later, a water-logged guard climbed back on board, keeping one fist held high. Huffing from the exertion, he lowered his hand and opened it to reveal everything the boy had asked him to find.

  Asu Chu collected the items from the guard’s hand. The boy paused before returning to the back of the boat where he’d left his supplies. “Stay here. Don’t crowd me. Let me work alone.”

  The guards watched Asu Chu traipse to the back of the boat.

  He turned his back on them and sat to examine his supplies.

  Asu Chu picked up the strip of white cotton cloth that had been wrapped around the clay figure of Frayka, which he’d made before leaving the royal complex. He had used the clay figure in the tableau that created the avalanche, so that figure was gone.

  Maybe the cloth holds some of the figure’s essence. Maybe I can use it.

  He dug out a small bottle of ink and a quill from his packet of supplies and used them to draw the characters spelling out Frayka’s name on the cloth. Asu then drew the figure of a woman’s body around the name. For good measure, he drew the image of a baby in the woman’s arms.

  Next, Asu Chu bundled together some scraps of cloth to form the shape of a man. He found a bit of the slurry made from feather-stone clay remaining in its bottle. After covering the cloth bundle with slurry, Asu pressed the black hair he’d cut from the guard’s head to form the image of a wild man.

  Now to set up the event.

  Asu used the rocking surface of the boat’s deck to create the tableau. He used dirt, sand, and grass to shape the land, not caring that the surface was flat. He saw no way to represent the mountainside. Instead, Asu scattered the tableau with leaves and pine needles to suggest the forest.

  Now what?

  Asu Chu emptied his packet and studied all his remaining supplies. His fingers drifted from item to item as if touching them would provide an answer. Small squares of cloth. A bottle of ink. A quill. A now-empty bottle of slurry. Several sprigs of foxtail herb, tied together with a purple string and wrapped in paper.

  Inspiration struck Asu Chu, and he worked quickly. After unwrapping the foxtail sprigs, he put them aside and brushed tiny loose needles from the paper. Next, he folded the paper several times and in many different ways until it looked like a small boat, which he placed at the tableau’s edge. Asu gripped the stoppered bottle of ink and used it to smash the figure of the wild man. Finally, he picked up the cloth with the image of Frayka and her baby, carried it across the tableau, and draped it across the boat.

  Satisfied with his work, Asu Chu stood and marched toward the guards. He cleared his throat and made an announcement. “We should stay here and wait for Frayka.” The boy grinned. “I expect she will join us before morning.”

  CH
APTER 28

  Madam Po and TeaTree arrived at the fingerling mountain far beyond Zangcheen in the early evening. They stayed on the side facing the distant city until well into the evening, wary of the people who lived on its opposite side. They crept to the other side of the tall and skinny mountain to find the small village dark and silent. They slipped between the houses, around the small gardens layered into the mountainside, and along the upward path of slate steps.

  The trail ended abruptly at a large boulder.

  When Madam Po placed her hands on its cool surface, the boulder trembled. A seam splintered down the middle of the boulder’s surface, and the boulder cracked opened wide enough for them to walk one at a time between the two halves of the boulder. On the other side, they continued on the path behind the split boulder, which eased back together.

  The path led around the narrowing peak of the fingerling mountain. They arrived at the Gate of Air, its crystal surface sparkling under the light of a carpet of stars and a partial moon. Stepping through the gate, they walked into the realm of Kikita, the dragon goddess of air, a world lush with gardens.

  Madam Po jumped in surprise when a dark figure approached.

  “You’ve come back,” Kikita said, stepping forward. “Do you ever worry you’re using up my good will?”

  Madam Po smiled, while TeaTree stood uncertain at her side. “I do not,” Madam Po said.

  Kikita laughed and then gave a questioning look. “Frayka isn’t with you?”

  “She is why we’ve come,” Madam Po said. “Since we last met, the empress kept me locked up inside the royal complex while TeaTree searched the province for Frayka’s husband Njall.”

  “And you’ve escaped?” Kikita said.

  “Too conveniently,” TeaTree said. “Although we saw no signs of being followed here.”

  “I’ll ask the feathered people to look for Frayka,” Kikita said.

  The suggestion startled Madam Po. “But their safety!”

  “They fly above the clouds,” Kikita said. “They know how to hide in the skies.” She paused and frowned. “But I’m confused. Why haven’t your portents led you to her?”

  Madam Po said, “Something interferes with my portents. They give me nothing worthwhile anymore.”

  “You’re in my realm now,” Kikita said with another smile. “Maybe the interference can’t reach you here.”

  Bright and hopeful, Madam Po said, “Maybe you’re right.”

  * * *

  When Empress Ti finished making her request for help from the Great Emperor, she exited the Temple of Dark and Light to find the royal magician Tao Chu waiting for her outside. Still within the confines of the sacred place, Ti knew she could speak freely. “What next?”

  Failing to answer, Tao Chu gazed at the empress. “You look refreshed.”

  Ti imagined she did. After stepping out of her ailing skin by cutting it apart with the knife Tao Chu had given to her, Ti felt transformed. At the same time, she remembered Tao Chu’s warning that the effects would be short-lived. “I am refreshed,” she said. “But there’s no time to waste.”

  An air of grimness overcame the royal magician. “Indeed. I will continue to explore other possibilities, but it might be best to consult with the royal astrologer for now.”

  “Astrologer?” Ti looked at him in surprise. “I didn’t know we had one.”

  “Few people do.” Tao Chu opened the door to the outside hallway and followed Ti into it. “The work of an astrologer depends on his relationship with the night sky and all that fills it. The night and its stars shift and change all the time. These are delicate things, and when people know the identity of an astrologer, they often try to take advantage of him for their own purposes.”

  “Every man wants to know his fate,” Ti said, understanding the magician’s meaning.

  “Or every woman her fate.” Tao Chu walked down the hallway with Ti at his side, leading her through the twisting passageways of the royal palace. “And most people have no idea that the royal astrologer is often right under their nose.”

  “Do you mean the royal astrologer is someone I already know?” Ti said, unsure whether to be frightened or relieved at the idea.

  Instead of answering, Tao Chu continued leading her through the maze of hallways until they reached an unfamiliar door. “Like the royal magician,” Tao Chu said, “the royal astrologer also is provided quarters within the palace, although he keeps a house outside to help hide his identity. He splits his time between the two. Let’s find out if he’s here.” Tao Chu knocked.

  Several moments later, Ti looked in astonishment at the man who opened the door.

  “It looks like the time for consultation has come,” said Li Chien, the man Ti had selected months ago as her most trusted advisor.

  * * *

  Ti settled into a comfortable chair inside Li Chien’s quarters, feeling safe in knowing that Tao Chu roamed the hallway outside to make sure no one would interrupt them. What first struck her was the deep blue color painted on the walls and ceiling, dotted with white bursts that she guessed must represent the night sky and stars. The air hung thick with sweet incense that collected at the back of her throat and made her think of black anise candy. Chimes hanging by an open window tinkled when a soft breeze entered.

  Li Chien examined a complex arrangement of nesting brass hoops that formed a globe and rested on top of a table. He sat opposite Empress Ti with the brass globe between them.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’re the royal astrologer?” Ti said. She couldn’t tell if she felt more angry or disappointed.

  “Some things must happen for your own protection,” Li Chien said. “The stars told me it wasn’t yet safe.”

  Perplexed by his answer, Ti said, “Do you mean I would have been hurt somehow if I knew about you?”

  “Hurt,” Li Chien said. “Or dead.”

  Ti shuddered. “But it’s safe now.”

  “Safer for you to know than not know.” Li Chien stood and groaned when he stretched his legs as if he’d been sitting for hours instead of minutes.

  “Are you going to tell me my future? Look into my stars?”

  “Something like that.” Li Chien walked to the opposite side of the room and closed heavy drapes to shut out the light from the window.

  The room became as dark as twilight.

  He walked back to the nested brass hoops and lit a squat candle impaled on a spindle in the hollow center of the globe they formed.

  In the dim light, Ti thought she could see the heat from the flame rise in waves.

  Metal scraped against metal, and needle-thin rods flipped up from the square brass base, sporting stars and tailed comets made of finely pounded tin.

  The nested hoops began to move, each in a different direction—horizontally, diagonally, vertically, and angled in between. Creaking as if from lack of use, the hoops moved slowly at first but spun faster every time each one completed a rotation. The polished brass surfaces caught the candlelight and cast it in all directions like tiny bolts of lightning. The stars and comets surrounding the globe shivered.

  The candlelight gleamed and formed flame-like images that flickered inside the hollow globe while its hoops spun faster. Those images burst out and formed the shape of a dragon that curled itself around the globe.

  Li Chien leaned forward from his seat. The candlelight illuminated the curious expression on his face. “The sign of a dragon goddess,” he said.

  “Dragon gods aren’t real,” Ti scoffed. “They’re nothing but fairy tales.”

  “They’re very real.” Li Chien reached toward the image of the dragon but kept his hand a safe distance away. “This is the sign of the dragon goddess of fire.”

  Li Chien’s words scared Ti. Everything she thought she understood kept turning inside out. “What does it mean? The sign of the dragon goddess of fire?”

  The image of the goddess dragon burst as it exploded and then reformed into the image of the moon, hanging above the globe of s
pinning hoops. Bright like fire at first, the image faded into orange and then finally into dark red.

  Li Chien’s voice quivered when he spoke. “The blood moon.”

  Ti wished she had never allowed Tao Chu to bring her to Li Chien’s quarters. She wished Li Chien had never drawn the drapes or lit the candle whose heat put the spinning hoops in motion.

  But maybe this isn’t as bad as it looks. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that will restore my health forever and guarantee my safety.

  “What does it have to do with me?” Ti said, hoping for the best.

  “The blood moon is a bad sign. It is a foreboding of terrible times ahead. The presence of the dragon goddess of fire complicates the message.”

  “Complicates it how?”

  Li Chien stared at the spinning globe, transfixed. “It is unclear whether the dragon goddess brings the blood moon or if she opposes it. If she brings the moon, the future is in your favor, and the terrible times are for others, not you.” He paused and swallowed hard. “However, if she opposes the moon, those dreadful times will fall directly upon you.”

  Like Li Chien, Ti watched the globe until its hoops slowed and came to a stop. An inexplicable breeze snuffed out the candle, and Ti flinched at the smell of its acrid smoke in the darkness.

  Li Chien’s footsteps thudded across the floor, and blinding light flooded the room when he opened the heavy drapes.

  Ti looked at her most trusted advisor when he sat across from her again. “What do I do?”

  Although strains of worry still creased his face, Li Chien offered a small smile. “We can figure that out together.”

  CHAPTER 29

  When the light from the fire lit by Frayka revealed a waking man covered with fur and matted hair, her first instinct to protect her child rushed through her veins like wildfire.

  Lying prone, the wild man pushed himself up, all the while locking his gaze with Frayka.

  She eased one arm around Dagby, still strapped to Frayka’s side and hidden by the black cloth draped around them.

  Could a dagger cut through the thick, matted fur and hair covering this strange man?