by Resa Nelson
The world felt unreal. Margreet no longer understood it. She didn’t know how she could continue living in it, but she took her mother’s sacrifice to heart. Her mother had been foolish to stand up for the Temple of Limru and its tree spirit gods, but she’d saved her only daughter’s life by ordering her to hide while their world was torn apart.
Filled with hatred for these men and what they did, Margreet would make a promise to herself in the coming days once assured the attackers had left. After days of hiding from lingering fear, hunger and thirst drove Margreet out of her thicket. When she entered the Temple of Limru, the carnage stunned her to the point of disbelief. Nothing felt real. But in that moment, she vowed to be different from the attackers. Margreet promised herself that for the rest of her life she would never harm a living thing.
Not even the men who destroyed her family, her community, and the Temple of Limru.
Margreet took her mother’s last words—what might as well have been her dying words—to heart.
Save yourself.
When she found her mother’s body, Margreet kneeled beside it. She avoided looking at her mother’s face, preferring to remember how she’d looked when alive. Margreet focused instead on the task at hand.
Becoming a Keeper required learning the ways of the tree spirits and making vows to honor those ways. It took many years to prepare for those vows. Once made, a Keeper received a pin shaped like a tree, worn with pride and never removed.
Willing her hands to be steady, Margreet removed the pin from her mother’s robe.
“I’m the last Keeper of Limru,” Margreet whispered. “I won’t let them forget you.”
She attached the Keeper pin to her own clothing at the shoulder.
When Margreet walked into the village adjacent to the temple, she saw what had happened. The strangers had come through here first. They’d killed the villagers before entering the temple and confronting the Keepers.
In that moment, Margreet understood that she was truly and completely alone in the world. While she’d met dragonslayers and merchants who sometimes came to Limru, they were wanderers who roamed through not only the Midlands but the Southlands and Northlands as well. She had no way to find them or ask for help.
Margreet considered what she would now have to do to save herself.
Any woman who failed to marry asked for trouble. Marriage meant safety. Choosing a good husband ensured a woman’s security.
Margreet would spend the next few years moving through the world with caution and care. Every day she would think about what she should do to save herself.
CHAPTER 24
While Madam Pingzi Po dreamed, she walked with her dead husband, Hsu Mao, and enjoyed the brilliant magenta and yellow and bloodshot colors of the flowers in a fantasy garden in a city she didn’t recognize. Beautiful stone temples surrounded the garden, where they walked in privacy.
In her dreams, Pingzi pretended the fantasy was real and that her husband still lived. Later, when she would wake, the harsh facts of reality would weigh on her like gravity.
The sound of a large splash caught Pingzi’s attention. She turned to look for its source.
Columns of clear water full of bubbles formed a gate in the center of the garden.
“Oh, no,” Pingzi said. “What now?”
“Courage,” her husband said. “Together, we can face whatever consequence this brings.”
When the figure of a man burst through the gate and searched the garden until he locked eyes with her, Pingzi knew at once that he was no man.
“Madam Po!” he called out.
Although she’d met him briefly in the past, Pingzi couldn’t forget the face of the dragon god of water. “Taddeo,” she answered.
The dragon god marched toward her, crushing azaleas and chrysanthemums with every step.
The wounded flowers cried out in pain.
Their pain angered Pingzi. “Careful where you step!”
Ignoring her, Taddeo hastened his pace while his face flushed with anger. “This is all your fault!”
“What is her fault?” the ghost husband Hsu Mao said.
Pingzi placed a cautioning hand on her dead husband’s arm. “I understand your concern, but I will fight my own battles.”
The ghost husband protested no more.
Taddeo proceeded until he stood toe to toe with Pingzi. His breath came in pants from antagonism, not the exertion of walking. “This is all your fault. You should never have quelled demons outside your own country.”
The accusation startled Pingzi. “There are no such laws stipulating that.”
Taddeo’s breath heaved faster. “There should be. You should have known better. You should have limited your work to your own kind.”
Pingzi stood tall and refused to back down from the dragon god. “My portents show me when there is a demon in need of quelling. The portents make no such distinction.”
Taddeo acted as if she’d said nothing. “This began when you quelled the Northlander Benzel of the Wolf. You should have stayed out of the Northlands.”
Pingzi decided to remain calm and speak with logic. “When a demon is quelled, all of the world benefits, not just the demon’s home country. Therefore, the Far East benefitted from the quelling of Benzel of the Wolf, not just the Northlands.”
It seemed as if her calm demeanor inflamed Taddeo’s anger. When he spoke, his words came out in huffs and puffs. “Benzel made you soft. You became fond of his son and the children of his son.”
“They are also the children of one of your own kind.” Pingzi kept her voice soft, not knowing how the dragon god would respond when he realized what he appeared to have forgotten. “Benzel’s son married the sister of the dragon goddess of fire. Those children aren’t entirely mortal. They share your bloodline.”
Taddeo snorted and took a few steps back, his face distorted with disgust. “Also, your fault. None of this would have happened had you not meddled.”
Despite his continued distress, Pingzi decided to determine Taddeo’s reason for entering her dream. “Something unexpected has happened. What is it?”
The dragon god stared at her in surprise, as if taken aback by her boldness in asking the question. Nonetheless, he answered. “They’ve taken my family. Dozens of them. My brother. His wife. She was to lay eggs. If that happened and they’ve hatched, the young ones are in danger, too.”
Hsu Mao broke his silence. “Who has taken them?”
“The Scaldings.” Fury pumped up Taddeo like a bellows. “Because of you,” he said to Pingzi, “we attacked Tower Island. Because of you, most of my family is in danger, if they aren’t dead already.”
Startled, Pingzi said, “You didn’t rescue the children? The Scaldings still have them?”
Taddeo shook his head in astonishment. “Skallagrim’s children? What about my family?”
The air surrounding them shimmered and sparkled with a green tint.
The dragon god said, “What is this?”
“A portent,” Pingzi said. “Wait. And watch.”
The sound of a young dragon’s screams sliced through the air, and the image of a cage appeared behind Taddeo.
“Norah,” a female voice whispered. “My child is Norah.”
Taddeo turned and rushed into the image, but it dissolved. He grasped at it frantically, but the remnants of the image slipped through his fingers. “I know that voice. My husband’s sister.” Taddeo dropped to his knees and dug his hands through the flowers and the grass but came up empty handed. “That caged dragon. The little one. She must be my niece. She must be Norah.”
“There has to be a way to save her,” Pingzi said. “And Skallagrim’s children, too. The All-Father promised to consider saving us.”
“Saving?” Taddeo frowned. “From what?”
Pingzi couldn’t forget her audience with the Northlander god. Apparently, Taddeo knew nothing of it. “Fiera didn’t tell you?”
Taddeo snorted. “The dragon goddess of fire. Don�
�t you know fire and water don’t mix? Why should she tell me anything?”
He didn’t know.
That realization gave Pingzi hope.
“Take me to the All-Father,” Pingzi said. “Fiera did it. You can, too.”
The Gate of Water standing behind Taddeo trembled as if ready to splash down at any moment.
Taken aback, Taddeo said, “What good would it do?”
“He wouldn’t listen to Fiera,” Pingzi said. “Maybe he’ll listen to you. The All-Father wants to destroy all mortals and wipe us off the face of this world.”
Taddeo glared at her. “That might not be a bad idea.”
Unfazed, Pingzi continued to speak in the most rational manner she could muster. “Even if that’s so, it will not help you liberate your niece from Tower Island. The All-Father takes a great deal of time to make his decisions. By the time he decides, your niece could be dead.”
Enraged, Taddeo turned and marched back to the Gate of Water. When he reached it, the dragon god turned back toward Pingzi in surprise. “What are you waiting for?”
Giving a quick smile to her ghost husband, Pingzi sprinted toward the Gate of Water, calling out her apologies to the flowers struck by her feet with every step.
CHAPTER 25
The All-Father’s quarters inside the massive silver hall in the city of dead Northlanders and their gods appeared far more cramped than Pingzi remembered. As always, the All-Father sat at a simple wooden table wearing a hat cocked to one side. But whenever he lifted his head at a certain angle, Pingzi saw his eyepatch and what appeared to be an infinite sky full of stars where his eye should have been.
“Why,” the All-Father said, “do the dragon gods of the Far East continue to annoy me? Haven’t you got better things to do?”
Taddeo huffed as if thinking about shifting into his dragon shape. But doing so would mean squeezing into the small shape of the room, which promised to be uncomfortable at best and impossible at worst. “It’s a simple request,” Taddeo said. “A simple solution.”
The All-Father ran a long fingernail across the tabletop, causing an irritating scratching sound. “A solution. To your problem. Not mine.”
Pingzi could bear to stay silent no longer. Although wary of the All-Father, she knew her body slept safely in her own bed in the Far East. Only her spirit stood here among the gods. “You promised to reconsider your plan. You promised to consider helping us.”
“Help you?” The All-Father laughed mightily. “I said I would consider both sides and make a decision later. I said nothing about helping you.” His voice carried a grave undertone. “Why should I help those who created the problem that insults every Northlander god and goddess?”
“Created the problem?” Taddeo huffed again and recoiled as if taking the All-Father’s remark as a personal insult. “I create no problems.”
“The fire dragon, then,” the All-Father said. “One of your Northlanders bargained with Thor and agreed to deliver his first-born child as payment for my son’s help.”
“Fiera.” Taddeo spat out her name, again offended.
The All-Father remained calm and detached. “That was the first offense of the dragon gods—protecting this Northlander and preventing Thor from finding him. The next offense came when one of your kind poisoned the Northlander bloodline.”
Pingzi shrank, knowing the All-Father referred to the marriage of Fiera’s sister Lumara to Benzel’s son Skallagrim.
“Even worse,” the All-Father continued, “the dragon bore two children sired by her mortal husband. I never approved of interbreeding.” He drummed his fingers against the wooden tabletop, and his nails made a clacking sound. “But you are the ones who committed the most unforgiveable act of all. Are you not responsible for invading the Northlands and attacking its people?”
Pingzi fidgeted, knowing she should honor her dragon god by staying silent and yielding to him.
“Not the Northlands,” Taddeo said, seething with anger. “Tower Island.”
“Part of the Northlands.” The All-Father shifted in his chair. “Because of your meddling and intermingling with the mortals of my land, they lost interest in their own gods. Exposure to the dragon gods of the Far East poisoned my mortals.” He leaned forward. “The only ones who still talk to me are the Scaldings on Tower Island. Just today, one asked for my help.”
Unable to contain herself, Pingzi protested. “I asked Taddeo to go to Tower Island. The children are in danger.”
The All-Father shifted his terrifying gaze to Pingzi and considered her as if she were an insect about to crawl upon his table. “Children?”
“Drageen and Astrid,” Pingzi said. “The children of the dragonslayer and the sister of the dragon goddess. I’ve seen them in danger, and they need help.”
The All-Father tapped a single fingernail against the tabletop in a steady rhythm. “You speak of those who are part of the problem I now face. Like you—a creator of that same problem.”
Pingzi remembered how Fiera had convinced the All-Father to reconsider. “Every so often, you meet a mortal who brings true value to the world,” Pingzi said, repeating Fiera’s argument. “Like a demon queller or a dragonslayer. Or the children of a dragonslayer. And when you meet such a mortal, you understand the value of letting all of them live.”
Once again, the All-Father laughed. “You think you bring value to the world? After all the damage you’ve caused?”
Pingzi pleaded. “I quelled Benzel of the Wolf before he could damage your Northlands and its people! I helped you!”
“And yet look at the state the world is in now.” The All-Father glared at Pingzi.
She trembled.
Seemingly satisfied, the All-Father sat back. “You wasted your time coming to me. I’ve decided to destroy the world only if one of your fellow mortals fails to do it first.” The Northlander god smiled. “I take great pleasure watching his every step toward catastrophe.”
Pingzi felt lost in confusion for a moment. She could think of only one mortal bent on such a path, but she’d warned the dragonslayers to find him years ago. And yet they’d never delivered him to her for quelling the demon that had gripped his being.
Mandulane!
“Darken my door no more,” the All-Father said. With a snap of his fingers, the floor beneath Pingzi and Taddeo opened and spat them outside to a field far-flung from the city of the Northlander gods.
* * *
Taddeo stood and brushed his hands across his clothing even though they appeared to be unsoiled. “Come with me.”
Pingzi climbed to her feet and gazed in all directions, seeing nowhere to go. She didn’t dare question the still-seething dragon god, so she followed him without protest. They marched across field after field until a rainbow swung toward them. Approaching it, Pingzi saw the rainbow formed a bridge.
“Step where I step,” Taddeo said. “It’s tricky.”
Doing so, Pingzi followed Taddeo onto the bridge. Looking down, she saw her feet stand on transparent beams of red and orange. She felt nothing solid beneath her feet, and yet she stood.
Don’t think about it. You’re with a dragon god. Trust him.
“Take us to the World Tree,” Taddeo said.
The bridge swung wide across many more fields.
A massive tree came into view. The trunk appeared to be as wide as the city of the Northlander gods. Its branches stretched as far as the horizon to either side and reached up through the sky.
The bridge tilted up toward the top of the tree. It stopped at the tree’s greatest height.
Dizzied by the tremendous height, Pingzi followed Taddeo from the bridge onto the highest of thousands of steps carved into the branch. Relieved by the solid feel of the step beneath her and the vertical edges to which she clung, Pingzi wondered if she stood at the top of the sky.
A short distance above, the light blue color of the sky turned abruptly to indigo at a gently curving edge. The dark space blazed with blinding stars that seemed so close
that Pingzi worried she’d burn her hands if she grazed one by accident.
“Follow me,” Taddeo said. He climbed down the steps carved into the massive branch.
Torn between the desire to keep up with his pace so she wouldn’t lose sight of him and the terror of slipping and plummeting an impossible distance to the ground below, Pingzi clung to every surface that allowed her to grip it. After a great while, she descended to a room cut into the branch, where she found Taddeo.
The room formed a tunnel through the branch. At the opposite end, Pingzi saw shadowy figures, each bearing many arms shaped around them like tree limbs. Moans echoed through the length of the tunnel-like room, and the shadowy figures hunched over as if carrying the weight of the worlds on their shoulders.
Taddeo watched the distant figures in sorrow. “They can’t help us.”
“Who are they?”
Without meeting Pingzi’s questioning gaze, Taddeo said, “The tree spirits of the Midlands.”
Taddeo said nothing else but continued climbing down the steps carved into the branch.
Hours seemed to pass before Pingzi caught up with him again in a similar tunnel-like room. This time, he walked toward her as if coming from the opposite end, where shapes of gigantic animals unlike anything Pingzi had ever seen before clustered together. Tiny bright lights popped in and out of sight among them. Pingzi wondered if those lights might be pixies. She once heard the Southlander gods took the form of pixies.
Walking past her, Taddeo said, “They don’t want to get involved. The Southlands and Far Southlands have no interest in what happens north of them.”
Although Taddeo kept a quick pace climbing downward, Pingzi sensed her weariness and slowed down. Even though she knew descending the gigantic tree had to be far less taxing than climbing up, it exhausted her. Still, she persisted.
Finally, Pingzi arrived at a third tunnel-like room where she found Taddeo standing among a handful of men and women dressed in shimmering snakeskin and brightly colored feathers. Their hair and eyes were as black as her own, but their skin looked browner than any she’d ever seen before. Their large and prominent noses jutted out from their faces. They spoke in a language sounding guttural and lyrical at the same time.
