The Dragon Gods Box Set

by Resa Nelson

  Frayka never made it back to Zangcheen. I’m sure of it. Jojen must have been one of the guards that came here with her. Based on what he said, Frayka must have helped him somehow. She must have escaped, and Jojen looked the other way.

  But where did Frayka go from here?

  “My mistress isn’t in Zangcheen,” Njall said. “I just came from there. I thought I would find her here.”

  The old man with the rake spat again. “It’s a good thing she’s not here. Your mistress and the Lu girls ruined everything. Now we have no dragon to protect us. Our crops are doomed to fail, and we’ll starve to death!”

  Njall glanced up at the many small gardens sliced into the mountain continuing above the village. “I know a little about growing crops. Yours look healthy.”

  “They do now,” another man said. “But without the dragon, all kinds of danger can come to this mountain at any time.” He cast an accusing look at the older man who had first spotted Njall.

  The older man slumped but spoke in a commanding voice. “Leave me to talk to the slave.”

  The villagers surrounding him bristled but then backed away to offer some privacy.

  Even though Njall had been distressed by Far Easterners when he first entered the country with Frayka, spending many months confined with men from all across the Wulong Province had made him reconsider. He genuinely liked all his fellow concubines and enjoyed his time with them. By asking questions and listening, he’d gained more insight into the country and its customs. Njall believed he’d gained some insight into its people.

  He took a few steps toward the older man. “Can you help me find my mistress? Do you know where she might have gone?”

  The older man walked in the direction of the path that had led Njall to this village and gestured for the Northlander to walk by his side. “You just saved me a journey to Zangcheen. I was sure they’d gone there.”

  Njall thought about his fellow concubines and all he’d learned from them. They were all decent fellows who feared the Po Dynasty and the power it wielded over them. They feared the many restricting laws and obeyed them because no one wanted to go to court. The consequences could be too dire.

  “I don’t know your wife and daughter, but I doubt they would go to Zangcheen,” Njall said. “A woman and a girl would face too many dangers in that city. Isn’t there a place where they would be safe? Maybe with family?”

  “All of our family lives here,” the older man gestured. “In this village. They shouldn’t have left. I thought your mistress took them with her.”

  “Maybe she did.” Njall mulled over everything this man and the others had said. “Did your wife and daughter leave because the girl would be punished? Did everyone blame your daughter for the death of the dragon that protected you?”

  Before the older man looked away, Njall saw guilt and regret in his eyes. It was an expression Njall had seen in his own father’s eyes.

  Sometimes Njall’s father lost his temper and said things he later regretted. Njall’s mother always stood her ground and kicked her husband out of their home until he regained his senses and apologized. But Njall knew his mother had the Northlander law on her side.

  Any Northlander woman had the right to end her marriage at any time and for any reason. Any woman who did so received possession of the family home, guardianship of her children, and half of the family’s wealth.

  Unlike the Far East, no one had to plead their case in court. A dissolved marriage and its consequences happened as soon as the woman said so.

  Njall had seen his father return after having lost his temper with the same guilt and regret now apparent in this Far Easterner’s eyes.

  But in the Far East, the laws were stacked against women instead of being balanced for fairness to all.

  It wasn’t just the other men who were angry with this man’s daughter. He probably threatened to kill her himself. He’s the one who drove his family away, and now he wonders if he’ll ever see them again.

  Njall felt sorry for the man. Njall’s father had incentive to keep the peace with his family, but this man had none.

  Some people need incentive to do the right thing.

  “If you tell me the most logical direction my mistress took, I will look for your daughter and wife. If I find them, I will encourage them to come home.”

  The older man shrugged. “How would I know what direction your mistress took? How do I know where she wanted to go? She said nothing about it when she was here.”

  “How many directions can there be?”

  The older man chortled and then pointed back at the village above the roof lines. “Would you like to see?”

  Njall didn’t hesitate. “Of course!”

  The older man reversed direction and took Njall past the village and up to the tree line. Sometime later, they stood on a rocky ledge perched high above the village.

  “Now,” the man said, “you can see the possibilities.”

  The beauty of the landscape took Njall’s breath away. From this high vantage point, he gazed at a forest of slim mountains that jutted skyward like trees. Each had a peak rising like a bald head above its tree line. The afternoon sun illuminated one side of each mountain while casting deep blue shadows from the other. Fluffy white clouds stood like a flock of sheep against the sapphire sky.

  The ledge on which Njall stood curved around a good portion of the mountain side. While the man escorted him from one end of the ledge to the other, Njall studied the vast land spread beneath his feet.

  The north consisted of what appeared to be an endless range of mountains that stretched to the horizon. Although the mountains spread in all directions, they were also sparser.

  To the east, a vast and empty desert extended behind the mountains.

  To the south and west, Njall saw the ocean.

  Frayka would avoid the north and the east—she would have to travel for months in the mountains or the desert. Where would she get food or water? And what would she gain by making such a trek?

  It makes no sense for Frayka to go south. Whether her aim was to go home to the Land of Ice or return to Zangcheen, the most direct route would be to go west. That’s the shortest distance to the ocean. Whether she walked along the coast or found a ship to sail, going west would cut her travel time in half.

  “There.” Njall pointed at the west coast. “That’s where my mistress would go.”

  “I see,” the older man said. “I can show you a few paths she could take to get there.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Although disappointed that Fiera refused to help her find the dragon god of water, Frayka pressed on nonetheless. Making her way down the mountain from the Gate of Fire, Frayka stopped halfway and opened her arms wide to the strong wind that whipped around her.

  If what GranGran said is true and the gods are all around us in the elements they rule, then maybe the dragon goddess of air can hear me.

  “Kikita!” Frayka shouted into the wind. “I need your help. I need to find the dragon god of water. Can you lead me to him?”

  The wind whipped Frayka’s long black hair all around her face. It snapped the clothing she wore against her skin.

  But the wind didn’t answer.

  Still determined, Frayka continued down the mountain until she reached its base. She sat on the ground and dug her fingers into it. “Wendill, you promised to help me. I need your help now. Help me find the Gate of Water and the god who opens it.” Even though streams of lava trickled far away from where Frayka sat, she felt the heat trapped in the soil. “Wendill, please! You promised.”

  But when no response came, the heated soil became too much for Frayka to stand and she withdrew her hands from it.

  Maybe Wendill only meant to help me escape to a safe place. Maybe he thinks he kept his promise.

  “Dragon gods,” Frayka muttered in frustration. “What good are they when you need them the most?”

  Intending to return home to check on Dagby, Frayka stopped when she noticed a y
oung woman tugging on something below the surface of the shallow water in which she stood. As Frayka headed toward the beach, she said out loud to any gods that might be listening, “In case you’re befuddled, I’ll show you what it looks like to help someone when they need it.”

  Stepping onto the soft sandy beach, Frayka recognized the girl she had first met near the den of a serpent dragon. “Ling Lu!”

  Ling looked up but kept her hands under water.

  Frayka sloshed through the shallow water in a wide area where the sea trickled in after its waves crashed far away. “Can I help?”

  Ling squinted in the bright sunlight. “This fishing net is caught on some rocks.”

  A dark green ribbon of seaweed floated on the surface and wrapped around Frayka’s leg. She ignored its slimy grip. The clarity of the water allowed her to see a field of polished stones, and she took each step with care. “Every man back home fishes,” Frayka said. “I don’t have a lot of experience with nets, but I have some.”

  Joining Ling’s side, Frayka bent down and reached underwater to fiddle with where the side of the net had caught on a broken shell trapped among the rocks. Years of untangling her family’s nets made Frayka’s fingers nimble. Within minutes she freed the net and helped Ling haul in a respectable load of clams and other shellfish.

  They spread the net on the dry sand, and sorted through the catch. Ling provided cloth bags for storing everything they kept.

  While sorting, Ling said, “You speak Far Eastern much better than when I first met you.”

  Frayka laughed. “I’ve had a long time to practice.” She thought about Luan Lu, the girl who had come to Zangcheen for help because she thought she needed it. Everyone had expected Frayka to kill the serpent dragon, but Luan was the one who had slain it. “I’m sorry about your sister.”

  Ling’s face fell in darkness. “She never should have left. She shouldn’t have gone to Zangcheen for help. None of us knew the truth until it was too late.”

  Frayka hesitated in a moment of confusion, but then she remembered. Ling’s village believed a serpent dragon protected them and their crops. To appease the serpent dragon, the villagers gave one of their young women to it every year as a sacrifice.

  But Frayka had seen the truth with her own eyes. Although the serpent dragon was real, it appeared to be the pet of men from another village—a ruse for those men to capture girls from the village without the villagers’ knowledge.

  The villagers believed they sacrificed their young women to the serpent dragon, but the dragon never harmed them. Instead, the men from the other village took those young women as their wives.

  Days ago, Ling Lu sailed a boat to the mainland, where she found Frayka on the coast and brought her to Seahorse Island. As they crossed the sea, Ling explained how she and her mother had slipped away from their village the same night that Frayka left, accompanied by the royal guards. When Frayka managed to get away from the guards, Ling and her mother were making their way to Seahorse Island. But Ling had told Frayka little more than that.

  And now Frayka began to see what she had in common with Ling.

  “Do you miss it?” Frayka said. “Your home?”

  “I miss my family. I miss my friends.” Ling picked through a pile of broken shells and threw them on the beach. “But I don’t miss being blamed for something I didn’t do. And I don’t miss wondering if I’m going to be killed for a foolish misunderstanding.”

  Frayka missed her family and friends, too. And she felt a new gratitude that no such misunderstanding would ever happen in her homeland.

  Frayka straightened one edge of the net and then picked out strands of seaweed from its contents. “This is a dreadful country. I never dreamed such a cruel and ghastly place could exist.”

  Ling stood up straight and looked at Frayka in horror. “This is not a ghastly place!”

  Frayka glanced up. “I don’t mean Seahorse Island. This place is sensible and peaceful. I’m talking about the Far East.”

  “So am I,” Ling said. She balled her hands into fists and placed them on her hips. “You have no right to criticize a country you know so little about.” Ling looked Frayka up and down. “Just because you look like us doesn’t mean you understand us.”

  Astonished, Frayka let the seaweed in her hands fall back into the net and faced Ling Lu. “I understand that men capture women and treat them as servants. I understand that if anyone thinks a woman has done anything to disrespect her husband after he dies, she can be boiled alive.”

  Frayka crossed her arms and didn’t bother to hide the contempt in her voice. “And I understand that people would rather sacrifice their daughters to serpent dragons than protect them.”

  “Don’t talk like it’s our decision to make,” Ling protested. “Because it’s not.”

  “Of course, it is!” Frayka lost her temper. “You can band together and help each other. You can do what’s right instead of what’s convenient. That’s what Northlanders do!”

  “This isn’t the Northlands.” Ling’s eyes flared with anger. “You think we have a choice, but you’re forgetting something important. Everything we do is dictated by the Po Dynasty and the laws they made.” Ling’s gaze bore into Frayka. “And you’re a member of that dynasty. It’s your fault as much as anyone else’s.”

  Taken aback by Ling’s accusation, Frayka found herself speechless. In that moment, she remembered the frustration and panic in the courtroom in the Hall of Justice while waiting for Emperor Po to make his judgment when she’d been captured as Ming Mo’s bride. Emperor Po could have—and according to the law should have—ruled in favor of Ming Mo. The emperor could have followed the law to the letter, which would have meant Frayka not only would have been obligated to remain the man’s bride, but she would have suffered a severe punishment for fighting to free herself from him.

  Even worse, Frayka remembered the fear she’d felt for Njall, knowing that if Frayka were set free from being a captured bride, they could both be executed because the law dictated that no Far Easterner could marry a foreigner.

  Frayka wondered if every Far Easterner woke up feeling the same kind of fear she’d felt in the Hall of Justice. When she spoke, her voice softened. “I’m not a Far Easterner. I’m a Northlander. I had nothing to do with your laws, and it’s not fair to lump me in with the rest of the Po Dynasty. I’m barely part of it.”

  Ling’s gaze remained fixed on Frayka but relaxed. “You look like a member of the Po Dynasty. I imagine you enjoy the benefits of belonging to it.”

  Frayka blanched. She knew Ling spoke the truth. If Frayka hadn’t been related to GranGran, the emperor would have ruled against Frayka and Njall in court. He allowed both of them to live because he cared for GranGran.

  Ling nodded in self-satisfaction when Frayka failed to answer. “That’s what I thought.”

  “It’s not my fault,” Frayka muttered.

  Ling sighed. “People make bad decisions because they’re afraid and desperate. The laws make them feel like they have to protect themselves every day. If they don’t, they die.”

  “But you always have a choice.” Frayka shifted her weight from one foot to the other in discomfort.

  “A choice? The choices we have are terrible!”

  “Yes,” Frayka said. “They are. But you always have a choice. And the choice you make tells everyone who you really are.”

  Ling stared at Frayka for a long moment. “You think we’re a nation of cowards.”

  When confronted with the truth about her thoughts, Frayka took her own advice. She wanted to look away in shame, but decided to admit to the accusation instead. “Yes. That’s my opinion.”

  Ling scoffed and returned to sort the good from the bad in the net she’d hauled in. “You don’t understand the advantage you have. You come from a country where they teach you how to fight. Where they encourage you to be brave. You come from a history where your people fought dragons and won. Then you come here and expect us to be the same. We’re n
ot. No one here has your advantage.”

  Frayka wanted to argue but couldn’t. She picked seaweed out of the net and tossed it aside. She thought about her Far Eastern lineage and how GranGran’s daughter—a grandmother Frayka never met—had married a Northlander. Considering the laws, she must have left the Far East to do it.

  But what if Frayka’s grandmother had never left the Far East? What if she had never married a Northlander? What if Frayka had been born in a small Far Eastern village or the sprawling city of Zangcheen?

  Wouldn’t I be the same if I’d been born here instead of the Northlands? Wouldn’t I still be me?

  Frayka paused to imagine what life would have been like if she’d never known her beloved father or Njall or all the Northlanders who lived in Blackstone. She thought about all she’d learned from her father—things she would be unaware of today if she had been born here. She thought about her lifetime of being respected by men and women alike.

  One thought made Frayka shudder: what would life be like if she had never been trained to fight and never owned a weapon?

  Frayka didn’t know what contributed to shaping her more: the people she’d known all her life or the essence of her spirit, something she believed she had been gifted at birth, regardless of where it happened.

  She felt relief and gratitude because she’d been born to a Northlander family.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Njall?” The royal guard Jojen looked at Empress Ti in surprise.

  Jojen focused on keeping his voice neutral. He knew Empress Ti held a great fondness for him, because he prevented a royal advisor from claiming Ti as his bride in the days when the emperor still lived.

  But the fact that the emperor died so soon after changing the law that allowed his daughter to rule troubled Jojen. Since then, he’d paid close attention to everything the young empress said and did.

  And much of what Jojen had noticed troubled him.

  “Njall is Frayka’s servant,” Jojen continued. “I’m sure he’s seeking a way to get out of the country and go back to his home. Why do you think he can lead us to Frayka?”