by Resa Nelson
Were they the people sitting on either side of the young man?
Or were they the man and woman sitting by Mandulane?
The world spun around him, and Mandulane felt so dizzy that he thought he might get sick.
Was it Mandulane that had seen his village burned by brigands? Did Mandulane work for the baron and encounter the Krystr clerks?
The boy shook his head in an attempt to clear it.
A loving arm wrapped around his shoulders, and the woman sitting next to him whispered, “Everything is alright, Mandulane. Your mother and father won’t let anything hurt you.”
Mandulane recognized Mama’s voice, and the world became clear to him at once. He remembered now. He’d moved from the Midlander port city with Mama and Papa Cobbler.
It was the young man sitting across from Mandulane who had seen his village burn and worked for the baron and heard the Krystr clerks talk about their new god.
Not Mandulane. His memories had twisted inside his head until he confused his own life with the story told by the young man. But now he began to remember what was real versus what he had strangely imagined.
The words from the young man’s story circled around Mandulane as if waiting patiently for his memory to slip again.
Mandulane ignored the young man and the words of his story that had been so confusing.
Thanks to Mama’s comforting words, Mandulane knew who he was.
And how likely could it be that he would forget again?
CHAPTER 11
In the city of Zangcheen in the Wulong province of the Far East, Madam Pingzi Po hoped for a good night’s sleep when she went to bed.
She should have known better.
Pingzi fell asleep quickly and dreamed of wandering through the Midlander port city where she had met with a large group of dragonslayers months ago. Although that meeting had been real, she recognized dreams for what they were and never mistook a dream for reality.
In this dream, she walked alone on empty streets and thought about what had transpired.
The dragonslayer Skallagrim, wracked with grief over his wife’s murder by his brother Frandulane, had let the demon desire for revenge overwhelm him. He refused to be quelled. Without his consent, Pingzi the demon queller could do nothing to help him. He’d stormed away from her and his fellow dragonslayers. Pingzi didn’t know what had become of him.
The Red Bird tavern where the dragonslayers had met with him now loomed ahead of Pingzi.
Why am I here?
Pingzi walked to the open door of the tavern and peered inside. The tavern stood deserted. She gazed upstairs, remembering that Skallagrim had left his children here with his fellow dragonslayers Bruni and Seph.
A shriek from upstairs pierced the empty air.
Springing to help, Pingzi crossed the threshold. The tavern vanished, and she found herself standing on an island dominated by a tower covered in gold.
I know this place. I’ve been here before.
Pingzi had come to Tower Island decades ago when she was a little girl. A portent had led her here to the first demon she would quell: Benzel of the Wolf. After the quelling, Benzel had become an important friend.
The irony that Benzel’s only son Skallagrim refused to be quelled baffled Pingzi.
She shook that thought away.
Shimmering yellow light rained down all around her. She recognized the sign at once.
I see. The dream now becomes a portent.
Pingzi sharpened her focus. Sometimes the messages in portents were obvious, and sometimes they were subtle. She’d learned from experience the importance of keeping her senses keen and paying close attention to everything bound to unfold around her.
Once again, she heard a shriek. This time, it came from behind.
Startled by the sound, Pingzi spun around and saw the edge of a cliff several steps away. She hurried toward it and looked over the edge.
Below, the dragonslayer Bruni stood knee-deep in the tide among jagged rocks. Her hair and clothing were drenched. Dark bruises covered her skin. Blood ran from her eyes like tears.
Pingzi remembered telling Bruni and the other dragonslayers that while she couldn’t see Skallagrim’s fate, one thing was clear. Pingzi knew from her portent what the future would bring if the dragonslayers didn’t find Skallagrim’s nephew Mandulane and help him.
Tragedy upon tragedy.
Staring down at the troubling sight of Bruni, Pingzi became aware of the crashing sound of waves and knew trying to shout above it would do no good.
Still, Pingzi spoke, hoping Bruni would understand.
“You came to Tower Island,” Pingzi said. She meant it as a statement, not a question.
Bruni continued staring. Her bloody tears fell onto her clothes, staining them red.
“You died here,” Pingzi continued. She considered the edge of the cliff near her feet and how easy it would be to fall over it. “Was it by accident?”
Another shriek startled Pingzi, this time coming from the tower. When she blinked, Pingzi discovered she now stood on another side of the island, where the tower overlooked the ocean. Pingzi stood at the side of the tower, wedged in a small space between the tower wall and a cliff even more sheer than the one where she’d found Bruni. Pingzi looked up when she heard a sudden commotion above.
Pingzi cried out in shock when she saw Sven hurtle from the top of the tower, followed moments later by his wife Snip. They fell with kicking legs and pinwheeling arms. When they struck the unforgiving water, their bodies shattered like glass.
A boy ran toward Pingzi but stopped short. He held his bloodied hands open for her to see while he wept, inconsolable.
I know this boy. It’s Drageen, Skallagrim’s son.
Pingzi braced herself and talked to the boy. “What happened to your hands? Did someone hurt you?”
The boy shook his head, still weeping.
He isn’t hurt. Then why are his hands bloody?
“Did you see anyone killed? Do you know who did it?”
Once more, the boy shook his head.
A chill ran through Pingzi’s veins. “Whose blood is on your hands?”
Heartbroken, the boy collapsed to the ground and wailed.
Is this a portent about Drageen?
After a lifetime of reading portents, Pingzi knew his bloodied hands meant Drageen would harm someone. But who?
Lost in sorrow, the boy sobbed beyond the ability to speak.
Pingzi had now had portents about two boys: Mandulane and Drageen. Both were too young to cause harm to anyone.
She considered sending a cautionary message to the dragonslayers beyond the Far East, but they already had their hands full between slaying dragons and hunting for Mandulane.
It’s more likely Drageen is in harm’s way than he is to cause harm to anyone.
At least, for now.
Of the two boys, Pingzi felt convinced that Mandulane posed a true threat to the entire world.
How could Drageen become a danger? It seemed more likely that he needed to be rescued from an island where his grandparents and a dragonslayer had died.
A familiar hand touched Pingzi’s shoulder, and she recognized the presence of her dead husband at once. She turned and looked at his somber face. “They’re dead,” Pingzi said. “Not just Bruni, but Sven and Snip.”
Hsu Mao, her dead husband, nodded. “The worst has begun.”
“Bruni’s fall looks like no accident, and neither does theirs.” Pingzi pointed at the ocean, where the shattered pieces of Sven and Snip hung in the air like shards of glass. “Who did this?”
But when Pingzi turned back to face her dead husband, his ghost had vanished.
“Husband!” Pingzi cried. “Please come back. I don’t know what to do.”
Nothing answered but the rush of the ocean wind that swirled around her.
Pingzi remembered what her husband’s ghost had told her the first time they met.
You’ll see me whenever you have a
portent, because I’ll be the one to lead you into it. You can see me whenever you want inside your dreams.
She remembered how he’d helped her come home to the Far East. Hsu Mao had called upon the goddess of air to transport Pingzi through the skies.
Pingzi considered what to do next. Although she dreamed of standing on Tower Island, Pingzi knew her mortal body slept safely in her home in Zangcheen.
As far as she knew, Skallagrim should have arrived in the Midlands months ago. If Bruni, Sven, and Snip were dead, Pingzi doubted it happened at the hands of Skallagrim. Considering that his brother Frandulane had been involved in killing Skallagrim’s wife as well as Benzel and Hsu Mao, Pingzi wondered if Frandulane might have killed his own parents along with Bruni on Tower Island.
Why would Frandulane do such a thing? What could he gain from murdering his own family?
From the little that Pingzi had seen of Frandulane and knew of his nature, she could see no reason for him to do such a foul thing.
But if Frandulane didn’t kill three people on Tower Island, who did? Certainly not any dragonslayer.
Considering that Bruni had been the first ghost to show itself, Pingzi wondered if the dragonslayer had been the first to die.
But why? Who would want to kill Bruni?
Pingzi thought about why Bruni might have come to Tower Island. The last time Pingzi saw Skallagrim, Bruni, and the other dragonslayers, they had renounced Skallagrim as a dragonslayer because he’d become obsessed with tracking down his brother Frandulane instead of tending to either his dragonslayer duties or his children—Drageen and the new infant daughter. Mindful of their own duty, the other dragonslayers had taken Skallagrim’s sword away.
Skallagrim’s children!
Bruni and her husband Seph cared for them when Skallagrim got lost in his desire to hunt down Frandulane. But the one thing that Bruni, Sven, and Snip had in common was Skallagrim’s children. It would make sense that sooner or later Sven and Snip would lay claim to raising their grandchildren. Maybe Bruni delivered the children to Tower Island at their request, and then someone killed her.
Sven or Snip couldn’t have killed Bruni. It’s not in their nature. And they cared deeply for Bruni. They’d never allow anyone to harm her.
The thought dawned on Pingzi that whoever killed Bruni might have then killed Sven and Snip. Pingzi couldn’t understand why anyone would want them dead, but she couldn’t shake the fact that the children were the connection between Bruni, Sven, and Snip.
A murderer lives on Tower Island. It’s the only explanation. If the children are on that island, someone has to rescue them before they’re killed, too.
Anxiety overwhelmed Pingzi, and she looked all around as if whoever had committed the murders on Tower Island might be lurking, ready to target her next.
I’m safe. I’m in a portent. I’m in a dream. No one can harm me here.
Pingzi needed to confirm the children’s location. Might they still be in the Midlands with Seph and his son? Or were they on Tower Island, as Pingzi now suspected?
What do I do? How do I find them?
Traveling back to the Northlands would take too long. If the children were on Tower Island, they could be dead by the time Pingzi could find a ship to take her there.
Pingzi couldn’t waste time checking the Midlands. It made more sense to assume the worst and get to Tower Island as quickly as possible.
She remembered how the goddess of air had helped her before.
“Kikita!” Pingzi cried out. “I respectfully request your help!”
The ocean air swirling around Pingzi died down. She took it as a sign that the goddess either didn’t hear her or required a personal audience before she’d contemplate Pingzi’s request.
Pingzi closed her eyes and willed her body to wake up.
* * *
In the soft pink light preceding dawn, Pingzi left her home on foot and walked through the city of Zangcheen. Slipping beyond the city’s boundary, Pingzi began a journey through the wastelands that would take the better part of the morning if not the entire day.
The Gate of Air rested atop a finger-like mountain standing at the entrance to the Mountains of Dawn. Pingzi could enter only with the permission of its dragon god. She had no doubt that Kikita would grant that permission.
Standing on the cracked earth outside the city walls, Pingzi came to an abrupt halt when a dust devil formed from the arid ground and swirled around her. The sight of Kikita’s face formed by dust took Pingzi aback. “Dragon goddess! I’m on my way to seek your help.”
“I saw your portent,” the ethereal being said. “I’ve come to stop you. My help would make no difference.”
The anxiety she’d felt before gnawed at Pingzi again. “But I need to locate the children of Skallagrim. I need help getting to Tower Island so I can find out if they’re there. Someone must protect Drageen and his sister—they’re in danger!”
“The danger is there, but it is not immediate,” the image of Kikita’s face said.
The goddess’s words failed to convince Pingzi. “Those children are precious to me!”
“And to me.”
Pingzi paused, confused by the goddess’s response. “They’re mortal children. Since when are mortal children precious to you?”
“Fiera and Lumara are my daughters.” Kikita’s words lilted as soft as a breeze. “The children of Lumara and Benzel are my grandchildren. I will make sure they’re safe.”
Pingzi stared at the goddess in astonishment.
“I am but one,” Kikita continued. “I will help in my own way when the time comes. It won’t be enough. You must make your request of a dragon god that can give you the help you need.”
Pingzi hesitated in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Speak to the dragon god Taddeo.”
“The dragon god of water?”
“Yes. There are many rivers and streams throughout the Far East, each with its own god. Taddeo is the master of all water dragon gods, and he can call upon them to help you.”
Pingzi stilled with a sudden sense of fear. “Why would I need so much help? There is one murderer on Tower Island.”
“Do not underestimate the Scaldings,” the image of Kikita said. “If you do, they will count you among their next victims.”
CHAPTER 12
After encountering the dragon goddess of air at the beginning of her journey from Zangcheen, Pingzi Po changed her course. The goddess Kikita advised seeking counsel with the dragon god of water and directed Pingzi to the ocean waters surrounding Tower Island, where the Gate of Water stood submerged.
After sailing on a Far Eastern ship to the Northlands, Pingzi made her way toward Tower Island with the help of a local fisherman who steered his boat far enough away from the island to avoid suspicion. She stood at the rail and spoke to the rolling waves. She spoke in Far Eastern, knowing the Northlander fisherman wouldn’t understand her words. “I am Pingzi Po, the demon queller. I am the one who quelled Benzel of the Wolf. With the help of Kikita, I seek the dragon god of water.”
She strained to listen beyond the splash of the waves and the cries of the seabirds circling above the boat.
A small arc of pearls broke the surface of the water and glistened in the sunlight.
Pingzi thought she heard a man’s voice say, “Enter with discretion.”
She glanced back at the fisherman, who stood at the opposite side of his boat, now busy throwing nets. Pingzi remembered Kikita saying that the Gate of Water stood beneath the sea around Tower Island.
Could that arc be the top of the gate?
Believing she understood the command given to her, Pingzi sat on the rail of the fishing boat, swung her legs across, and slid into the water. Letting her body submerge, the water clouded her vision.
But Pingzi still recognized the gate formed by massive clusters of pearls. Before she understood what was happening, a strong hand took hold of hers and pulled her through the gate.
The
next moment, Pingzi stood on the floor of a dimly-lit cavern, relieved to be surrounded by air instead of water.
A man resembling a Far Easterner—with the exception of his cool green eyes—stood before her.
Pingzi gave a respectful bow.
“I am Taddeo. What brings you here?”
Pingzi relayed her story of her life-long friendship with Benzel, the way his son Skallagrim allowed anger to lead him away from the purpose of his life, and her suspicions that Skallagrim’s children were in danger of being killed.
“You don’t know if the children are on Tower Island,” Taddeo said. “Shouldn’t you do that first instead of asking me for help?”
“It’s true. But I have the gift of portents, and I have seen things in my dreams that convince me the children are there and in danger.” Pingzi paused and took care to speak to the dragon god with consideration. “I fear the children are at risk of being murdered. They’re the grandchildren of Benzel of the Wolf. He never spoke of you, but the goddess of air said you helped him in days past.”
Taddeo grimaced. “The Scaldings are a prickly lot. Benzel did well to keep our alliance quiet. Dragons created Tower Island, and the Scaldings claimed it as their own.”
His revelation astonished Pingzi, and she listened intently to his story.
“When the Scaldings arrived on Tower Island, it fell to the god of earth to drive them away. I live with my fellow water dragons here in the caves below the tower. Wendill did all he could to help us. He thought killing some of the Scaldings would scare them away, but it didn’t.”
Pingzi kept still and vowed to show no reaction.
The dragon god of earth killed mortals. I never heard of a dragon god that killed people.
Taddeo continued. “Benzel convinced the Scaldings that he could protect them. When his path first crossed with Wendill, he learned what Benzel wanted and understood how to bargain with him. They struck a partnership. Benzel tried to reason with the Scaldings and convince them to leave Tower Island. He offered to drive Wendill away if the Scaldings would then give ownership of Tower Island to Benzel—and he would then give it back to the dragon gods.
“He told the Scaldings that he must fight Wendill in the water, and he dove from the top of the tower. Once underwater, he came here, into the home of the water dragons. We decided how to trick the Scaldings. Most of them had to be killed, but Benzel always kept his word. And Wendill paid a high price.” Taddeo cocked his head to one side. “If need be, do you approve of killing more Scaldings?”
