by Jeff Wheeler
“Thank you, Pangxie,” he said. “How has the populace received the news of my return?”
The officer’s expression was enigmatic. “I think the populace is most concerned whether you will reinstate some of your . . . older customs. Taxation primarily is their concern.”
Budai was stung by the reproach. Yes, his taxes had been strong, but they had made Wangfujing strong.
“I hope you have assured them that I will do nothing against the vassalage oath I took in Fusang,” he said. Together they started walking down the quay, escorted by a half-dozen soldiers carrying meiwood spears. Dragons were still a threat throughout the kingdoms, and watchmen were posted on rooftops with longbows and meiwood arrows, watching the skies.
“Of course, my lord. Your steward has also returned to serve you. Guanjia had been serving in the court of Sajinau but requested the honor of serving you once again.”
“Guanjia?” Budai said in surprise. “Truly?” That was the best news he’d heard in a while.
“He’s taken charge of the preparations of the palace in honor of your return. I hope you are pleased by his arrangements.”
Budai passed several vendors who sold skewered scorpions. Some things did not change, including one of the delicacies of Wangfujing. He saw some of the vendors glance at him and quickly look away. His resentment chafed inside him.
“I’m grateful, Pangxie. Guanjia has always been a trusted servant. He knows my moods better than anyone.” He looked over at one of the arched bridges as they passed, seeing an armed soldier standing at the apex, his gaze observing the crowds as well as the skies. “Have there been any sightings of the Qiangdao who refused to take the oath?”
“None, my lord. All of those who dwelled in Wangfujing took the oath. Their weapons were buried on a trail leading to the mountains. There’s an old abandoned quonsuun up there, I’ve heard.”
“It won’t be abandoned for long,” Budai murmured, thinking of Kunmia.
“Pardon?”
“It’s nothing.” He had no further questions to ask, and so they walked in silence the rest of the way to the Frog Palace. When he saw the doors, a sense of nostalgia overcame him. There were two soldiers stationed there, and they stomped to attention as he approached, and then they opened the door. Upon entering, he smelled his gardens and glanced at the well nestled inside them. He’d longed to take a drink from it, having hated the tepid waters of Sihui with a fiery displeasure.
Standing before the palace was Guanjia, who bowed to him on his knees, forehead touching the pavement. The other servants, seeing what he did, mimicked his action and they, too, bowed low.
Pangxie gave the show a look of annoyance. Budai wondered how long it would take before he could get the officer transferred elsewhere.
“Welcome home, my lord,” Guanjia said, rising to greet him. His smile . . . was it genuine? Or was he like so many others, wanting to say what others wished to hear?
“We meet again, Guanjia. What is the state of the accounts?”
“The coffers are nearly empty, my lord. Much has been spent preparing the palace for your sudden return. It is not . . . it is not as splendid as it once was. Most of the riches were shipped to Fusang to rebuild the broken kingdoms.”
Of course. Rowen was dripping in wealth now. Wealth he couldn’t even see.
“It will take time to restore Wangfujing to its former fame,” Budai said. Pangxie followed them into the palace. Budai breathed through his nose, and it smelled strange, foreign even. He had longed to return, to reclaim what had formerly been his.
“You must be weary from your journey,” Guanjia said. “I thought you might wish to rest and . . . recover.” The subtle pause meant he’d arranged for a woman as well. Guanjia had always anticipated his needs.
“I am weary. Captain, I appreciate you preparing the guard for my return. I am fatigued and will rest. See to your other duties, and we will meet again at supper?”
“As you will, my lord,” said Pangxie, bowing only slightly.
Guanjia said nothing else until they reached Budai’s bedroom. He gave his master a knowing look, offered an ingratiating smile, and opened the door for him.
There were no exterior windows in the chamber, so it was dark except for the light of a small oil lamp. There were no windows so that assassins could not sneak through them. Budai was paranoid. In the dim light, he smelled an exotic fragrance, one unfamiliar to him. He shut and barred the door, feeling anticipation well up in his stomach. Such privileges had been exceedingly rare during his years of exile.
He approached the bed, wondering if the girl had fallen asleep waiting for him. But as he did, he saw a pale leg ripple beneath the silk curtain hanging from the bed frame. Budai parted the curtain to gaze at her, and his stomach instantly tightened with fear.
A pale dragon lay on his bed. The limb he’d seen was a tail, not a leg.
A shimmer of mist came from the dragon, which transformed into a supine woman sheathed in silver silk, arm splayed at a provocative angle. Terror transfixed him. He thought of screaming for Pangxie to bring the guards, but he couldn’t breathe.
“Welcome back, Budai,” she said, giving him an inviting smile. “Do you know me?”
His knees trembled. He swallowed, his throat tight. “You must be Xisi.”
“Yes,” she said, and her voice was nearly a hiss. “We have much to discuss, you and I. Much to plan. I need a man of your . . . ambition. I am the one who made Echion the most powerful man in all the world. But he is dead now. I need another husband. I’ve chosen you.”
His heart began to thaw again from the ice of fear. Possibilities churned in his mind. Hunger he’d not felt in years began to stir. Not just a hunger for wealth. A hunger for revenge as well. He stared at her body greedily. “I think we can help one another,” he whispered.
CHARACTERS
Baihe——one of Xisi’s handmaidens
Batong——member of Damanhur’s ensign
Bingmei——orphaned main character, has winter sickness
Budai——ruler of Wangfujing
Chushuile——drawn from the water, the name Xisi gives her baby
Cuifen——princess of Sihui
Echion——the Dragon of Night, past emperor of the known world
Eomen——King Shulian’s daughter
Faguan——concubine of Echion
Fuchou——ruler of Renxing
Fupenzi——Bingmei’s grandmother
Guanjia——Budai’s steward
Guoduan——captain of the merchant ship the Raven
Heise——captain from Tianrui, leader of mercenaries
Heishou——part of Echion’s ensign, the man who murdered Shulian
Huqu——member of Damanhur’s ensign
Jiao——Bingmei’s grandfather
Jiaohua——master of Shulian’s police force, the Jingcha
Jidi Majia——Shulian’s advisor, also has the winter sickness
Jiukeshu——Qiangdao leader
Juexin——crown prince of Sajinau, Rowen’s brother
Kexin——chancellor of King Zhumu of Sihui
Keyi——greedy fisherman
Kunmia Suun——owner of an ensign, Bingmei’s master
Lianhua——concubine of Echion who also served Xisi
Liekou——part of Echion’s ensign, practitioner of dianxue
Lieren——part of Kunmia’s ensign, the hunter
Li Jinxi——Xisi’s eunuch lover from the ancient kingdom
Mao Zhang——businessman in Wangfujing, owner of fishing boats
Marenqo——translator for Kunmia
Mieshi——member of Kunmia’s ensign, sharp-tongued
Mingzhi——king of Tuqiao
Muxidi——Qiangdao leader who murdered Bingmei’s family
Naruto——king of Dawanju
Pangxie——an officer in General Tzu’s army
Qianxu——ruler of Yiwu
Quion——fisherman’s son who joins Kunmia
’s ensign
Rowen——prince of Sajinau, younger brother of Juexin
Shan——captain of the palace guard in Sihui
Shixian——the name of Bingmei and Rowen’s son
Shulian——king of Sajinau
Tzu——general of all Sajinau’s military
Xisi——Echion’s queen, coruler of the Grave Kingdom
Yanli——part of Echion’s ensign, the archer
Zhongshi——Kunmia’s nephew, guards her quonsuun during absences
Zhumu——ruler of Sihui
Zhuyi——member of Kunmia’s ensign, keen listener
Zizhu——guardian of Bingmei’s grandfather’s quonsuun
AUTHOR’S NOTE
When my wife finished reading the initial draft of this book, she came in with a querying look asking, “Um . . . Jeff . . . is there a book 4 you haven’t told me about?”
This is the story that I set out to write, the one that was inspired by Alaskan glaciers and ancient Chinese palaces. While doing research for this series in China, I watched a lot of martial arts films as well as a favorite of mine, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, and its Netflix sequel. Those stories are based on wuxia novels, martial arts novels written about a century ago about warriors and their adventures. One of the recurring themes of that kind of novel is that they tend to tell multigenerational stories. I tried to capture that essence with Bingmei, that the story really started long before she was born, and it will continue for generations to come. I admit I like to leave the door ajar in case more stories pull at me.
So “maybe” is the answer to my wife’s question. Someone asked me recently how I come up with so many ideas and how I can keep writing as fast as I do. The problem is that by the time I finish one series, the ideas for three more come in its place. Each project is special and unique, and I give it my undivided attention until it’s done. I may indeed come back to the Grave Kingdom to tell another story set in this world. I really enjoyed writing about it, but something else is coming next.
I dedicated this book to my daughter Isabelle, who practiced kung fu with me for several months before leaving on her mission. It was so fun training with her and passing on skills that I learned when I was her age. I’ve written this entire series while she was away from home, but thankfully, she is returning the same month that The Killing Fog comes out. Now she has experienced what so many of you have to endure (waiting for a book) instead of getting weekly sneak peeks of my latest chapters.
This series is about family, and I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have such an awesome one. They journeyed to the other side of the world with me, and yet continue to put up with all my dad jokes and my penchant for punctuality. Recently we arrived early for an orchestra concert that two of my kids were performing in, and my youngest, the little Owen look-alike, asked why we were there so early. I reminded him that getting a good seat is nice but then repeated my oft-stated adage: “Early is on time; on time is late; and late is missed opportunities.” He rolled his eyes and said, “Nice quote, Socrates.”
Gotta love those kids.
Until next time, thanks for being on this journey with me.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This is the last book of the Grave Kingdom series, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t thank my editor Jason Kirk at 47North once again. It’s a bittersweet thanks since he has left the publisher to become a freelance development editor. I wish him all the best on his new career and want to recognize what a joy it’s been working with him on seventeen books. His advice and insights and determination to always raise the bar have helped me become the author I am today.
Thank-yous are also in order for Angela Polidoro for her spot-on recommendations and tweaks that really make the story and its characters sing. She’s been an able partner for many years and will continue to be in the future.
I’m also so indebted to my first readers: my wife, Gina, and my sister Emily. I dedicated this book to my daughter Isabelle who will have returned home from her mission by the time this book is released. She continued to practice the kung fu I taught her while she was gone. To Dan and Wanda, they are amazing, and their skills are appreciated. I would also not make it very far without my street team and their helpful suggestions: Robin, Travis, and Sunil—thank you for reading this!
As I finished writing this book, I felt compelled to start a new project, something I’ve never done before. I wrote a memoir of the story of how I wrote my first million words and ultimately achieved my goal of becoming a full-time author (appropriately titled Your First Million Words). Looking back on that story, and all the twists and turns I encountered on the way, it feels a little too close to one of my novels! But the story is true. I’m grateful for my wife, Gina, who has been with me through all those changes.
Thank you so much for reading. I look forward to announcing my next adventure soon.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2016 Mica Sloan
Jeff Wheeler is the Wall Street Journal bestselling author of The Killing Fog and The Buried World in the Grave Kingdom series; the Harbinger and Kingfountain series; and the Muirwood, Mirrowen, and Landmoor novels. He left his career at Intel in 2014 to write full-time. Jeff is a husband, father of five, and devout member of his church. He lives in the Rocky Mountains and is the founder of Deep Magic: The E-Zine of Clean Fantasy and Science Fiction. Find out more about Deep Magic at www.deepmagic.co, and visit Jeff’s many worlds at www.jeff-wheeler.com.