The Dragon Gods Box Set

by Resa Nelson

  Frayka followed and found the girl on the path, creeping behind the last hint of light. Far ahead, the men still talked loudly. Frayka took hold of Ling’s arm and tried to pull her back.

  Ling Lu looked at Frayka with the fierceness of a cornered animal. Yanking herself free of Frayka’s grip, Ling whispered words that Frayka didn’t recognize. The expression in Ling’s eyes turned fiery, and she spat more words at a startled Frayka.

  Is she blaming me? Does she think Luan is dead because of me? Luan is the one who dragged me here!

  Ling placed a firm grip around Frayka’s wrist, digging fingernails into skin until Frayka winced. Ling continued following the faint torchlight ahead while dragging Frayka along with her.

  Frayka thought of the horrible things she’d encountered since coming to the Far East: a woman condemned to be boiled to death because she failed to follow the law dictating how she should respect her dead husband. Being captured by a stranger who thought he could make Frayka his bride.

  If Ling Lu thinks I’m somehow to blame for Luan’s death, then I could be facing a sentence more like being boiled than becoming a stranger’s bride.

  Frayka considered her options. Despite Ling’s tight grip on Frayka’s wrist, breaking free of it wouldn’t be impossible. But considering Ling’s maddened state, the consequences could be dire. Ling might lose all patience and yell, which would alert the men they now trailed. Those men would likely backtrack to discover them. Based on everything Frayka had learned about the Wulong Province so far, she believed any men who discovered them would then be in control.

  And Frayka wanted to be the only one in control of her destiny.

  On the other hand, Frayka could play along. Because they traveled the same path that Frayka shared earlier today with Luan, it made sense to assume that the men knew where Luan Lu lived and planned to return her body to her village. Now deep enough into the evening that pitch black surrounded them, Frayka imagined the village coming awake when the men arrived. There would be confusion.

  Lots of confusion.

  Although Frayka preferred taking direct and immediate action whenever possible, she smiled in the dark at her decision to wait.

  CHAPTER 11

  Ling Lu felt fueled by the rage coursing through her body. She felt like a serpent while she stalked the soft glow of the torchlight carried by the talkative men walking far ahead on the path through the mountain forest. For the first time in her life, Ling felt like a predator instead of someone at risk of being attacked by one.

  Last week the elders in her village announced that her sister Luan had been selected for the yearly sacrifice to the serpent dragon that guarded the hill on which the village perched. Ling protested by pointing out that Luan had barely come of age. Ling insisted the serpent had gone too far by demanding one so young.

  So, Ling offered to replace Luan as the sacrifice. It seemed like a good idea until the elders tied Ling Lu up and left her lying on the ground in front of the serpent’s cave. Ling didn’t regret saving her sister’s life, but she wished she could have thought of a different solution.

  When the serpent dragon appeared for the first time, panic consumed Ling Lu until she discovered it meant to help instead of harm her. During the course of the days she remained tied up, Ling Lu believed she began to see the truth about her corner of the world. The serpent’s kindness meant it wasn’t the monster everyone in her village had believed it to be for as long as Ling could remember.

  And if the serpent wasn’t a monster, then someone had something to gain by making it appear to be a monster.

  During her days of being tied up and surviving with the help of a serpent dragon, Ling changed. She’d spent her young life fearful of venturing away from her family, because she needed their protection. She had always assumed her parents would be nearby to shield her from harm.

  Like every woman in her village, Ling believed she would soon be married, and then her husband would be her protector.

  Being sacrificed to a serpent eradicated those thoughts.

  Ling realized the only person who could truly provide protection was herself.

  At first the thought made her angry. Why did everyone abandon her when she needed them the most?

  Although wrecked with grief, her parents praised Ling for saving her sister. They praised Ling for having the courage to give up her life so that the serpent would be appeased enough to let everyone else in the village live and protect their crops instead of demolishing them.

  Ling didn’t want protection anymore. She didn’t want praise.

  She wanted to reveal the truth to the people who were so willing to let her die for them.

  A soft cry from the Po cousin walking next to Ling gave her pause.

  Ling realized that with every angry thought, she had dug her fingernails deeper in the Po cousin’s wrist.

  Why am I holding onto her? Where would she go without me?

  Ling let go of the Po woman and kept a steady stride. Now free from her bonds, Ling relished the opportunity to walk the kinks out of her body.

  Even more, she relished the opportunity to punish the strange men she blamed for her sister’s death.

  Ling gave her attention to following the glow of light heading down the path toward her village. Every so often she glanced to her side to make sure the Po woman still walked beside her.

  When Ling Lu recognized the landscape just outside her village, she gestured to the Po cousin to hang back for a while. Ling knew it would take some time to wake the villagers out of a deep night’s slumber and gather them. She waited until she recognized the familiar voices of her family and neighbors. And then Ling waited until she heard the strange men spin a lie about Luan’s death, claiming they killed the serpent when they discovered it by Luan’s dead body.

  A moment of terror gripped Ling when she thought of facing the strange men alone. Better to take a witness with her. Once more taking Frayka by the wrist, Ling Lu dragged her into the village where she found everyone she knew gathered around the strange men, one of whom now placed Luan’s body on the ground. “The serpent sprang toward me,” that man said. “But I was quick enough to kill it before it killed me.”

  “Liar!” Ling shouted. She let go of Frayka’s hand and marched to face the man. “I know what happened. And you weren’t there!”

  “Ling!” her mother called out, running forward bearing a red, tear-stained face. “You live!”

  Weeping, Ling’s father trailed behind, reaching with open arms toward his surviving daughter.

  Ling gave herself a few moments to relish the relief she felt in her parents’ arms. But she couldn’t afford to relax for longer than those few moments. She broke out of her parents’ embrace and faced them. “These men lie. I know the truth because I saw it happen in front of my own eyes.”

  The color ran out of her father’s face, and his jaw slackened.

  Her mother gave a blank look. “How can that be? These men say they freed you, but you ran from them. Why did you run away?”

  Why is no one listening to me?

  Ling paused and gathered her patience. She reminded herself that before she learned the truth, she’d believed those same lies as much as everyone she knew, including her family.

  Everyone is stunned by the sight of Luan’s body. No one is thinking clearly. I need to make it easy for them to understand.

  Ling turned so that she faced all her neighbors as well as her parents. “Everything we’ve been told is a lie. The serpent dragon never demanded a sacrifice. The serpent was kind to me. I’m alive because of the serpent, not these men!”

  “Impossible!” a neighbor woman cried. “We sacrifice to the serpent every year.”

  “No,” Ling said. “We’ve been sacrificing to these men, not the serpent.”

  The old strange man chuckled as if she were a child claiming to have found gold in a pile of mud. “We are merely travelers who happened upon a horrible scene. Why did you run from us when we freed you?”


  Shocked by the man’s audacity, Ling shouted, “He lies! I heard them coming, so I ran away before they found Luan. Remember what I just said: we’ve been sacrificing to these men, not the serpent. The girls sacrificed before me never died. They live! They were captured as brides.”

  Other women shrieked.

  “My girl! Where is she?”

  “What happened to my daughter?”

  “How can this be true?”

  The young strange man glared at Ling and shouted above the panicked parents among the throng of neighbors shivering in their bedclothes in the chilly night air. “It’s not true. As my father explained, we’re travelers. This girl seems to have been put through a great ordeal by the serpent I killed. She’s confused. She’s imagining things that never happened.” He paused, and his tone of voice became patronizing. “After all, we all know how weak women are. We all know how girls imagine things that aren’t real.”

  All her life, Ling Lu had believed what everyone said about girls and women. They were weak and timid creatures, barely suitable for assisting men in the lives they led. And on the rare occasion that a girl or woman gained the courage to speak up on her own behalf, people would laugh and called her good sense into question.

  Ling Lu had lived a dutiful life. Everyone knew that all children must obey their parents and do everything in their power to make their parents’ lives easier. So, when any other girl or woman spoke up, Ling had responded like everyone else: she’d belittled the girl or woman in question. Ling had joined the consensus in doubting and degrading. To do anything else would have cast suspicion upon her entire family.

  And the last thing she had ever wanted was to displease her parents.

  But at this moment, Ling felt her blood run hot. Being sacrificed by her village—and her own family—and then receiving the unexpected kindness of a wild beast had changed her.

  Ling saw no value in being dutiful to the people who would let her suffer a horrific death. She saw no reason to obey the parents so quick to let Ling give away her own life so their youngest daughter Luan could live.

  Where was the sense in enduring such frightening torment and then bowing down to the people who would never expose themselves to such torment but had no trouble sending Ling to face it?

  Ling drew herself up to her greatest height and stared down the young man. “Stop talking.” When her neighbors gasped at her impudence, Ling faced them and said, “Listen to me. You left me bound by the serpent’s cave, but that serpent chewed at those bindings every day because it meant to set me free. My sister Luan saw this happen, and she assumed the serpent was trying to kill me. Luan attacked the serpent. She’s the one who killed it.”

  The strange men laughed. The older one said, “Imagine! A girl slaying a serpent. How bizarre!”

  Someone in the crowd of neighbors giggled but went silent before Ling could identify the culprit.

  “No!” Ling shouted. “I tell you the truth! It’s true the serpent killed Luan, but only because it thought she meant to hurt me.”

  The older stranger spoke to Ling’s father as if she weren’t standing there. “The girl is obviously tired and confused. A good night’s sleep will make things right with her.”

  The stranger’s words acted like a spark that lit Ling’s fuse. After spending her life believing that her father and all other men knew better, Ling trusted her own judgment for once. “I’m not confused. I know what happened. I know the truth.” Turning toward her father, she pleaded with him. “Think about Luan! These men caused her death!”

  “Look at her throat,” the young stranger said, pointing at Luan’s body. “Any fool can see the serpent killed her.”

  “Quiet!” Ling’s father shouted. Toward the crowd of neighbors around them, he said, “Let the guards step forward.”

  Startled by her father’s words, Ling looked around to see several uniformed men approach her father.

  Where did they come from? Why are they here?

  Ling’s father spoke to a guard whose stature indicated his position as the leader. Ling’s father said, “You must see many cases in court. Have you ever seen a dispute like this before?”

  The guard nodded.

  Ling’s father cast a dissolving glance at her. “What is the most common outcome? How does the emperor normally rule?”

  “The girl is out of control,” the guard said. “In such a case, the ruling is to stone her to death.”

  Although the guard’s words chilled her, Ling Lu drew herself up and stood her ground. When speaking, she kept her tone calm and even. “I am not in court. I’m home. This is my village, where I’m known by all. Everyone knows I can be trusted to tell the truth.”

  Her mother stared at the ground, while her father heaved a disappointed sigh.

  Why are they acting like this?

  The young stranger chuckled. “Has your daughter always thought so highly of herself?”

  To Ling, her father said, “Apologize to these good men.”

  If Ling’s jaw hadn’t been attached to her head, it would have fallen on the ground. Dumbfounded, she said, “You want me to apologize to the men responsible for the death of my sister? The men who would have stolen your daughter away as a captured bride while letting you believe she was dead and gone?”

  “Apologize.” Her father set his face in grim determination. “Now.”

  Frantic, Ling addressed her mother, who still stared at the ground. “Don’t you understand? These men are stealing the girls from this village so they can act out their manhood by pretending to defeat a serpent. It will keep happening until someone stops them.” Ling’s voice softened. “If we’d known about this before, Luan would still be alive.”

  “Stop!” Ling’s father said. “You are tormenting your mother.”

  “All I’m trying to do,” Ling said, “is reason with you.”

  The strangers laughed.

  Ling’s father bowed his head as if shamed. To the guards, he said, “Could you take this girl to the court in Zangcheen for trial?”

  The guard in charge said, “Are you charging her with a crime?”

  “Yes. My daughter Ling brings shame upon this village. I charge her with falsely accusing these good men of murder.”

  “Wait!” Ling cried, remembering she wasn’t alone. “I have a witness! She’s a member of the Po Dynasty. She saw everything that happened!”

  Ling turned toward the place at the edge of the torchlight where she’d left her witness and pointed at Frayka.

  * * *

  Frayka heard Jojen, the royal guard in charge, call out. “Frayka!” Jojen shouted. “Join us. It’s time to return to Zangcheen.”

  She thought back to the moment when Jojen and the other guards first arrived in this village. He’d insinuated that if she tried to escape that he’d been ordered to kill both her and Njall.

  The only way Jojen could kill Njall is if he knows where Njall is. That means Njall is probably hidden away somewhere in the royal palace.

  And if Njall is in the royal palace, then GranGran and TeaTree can find him.

  Once more, Frayka wrestled with the temptation to run away, but she worried about Jojen returning to Zangcheen before GranGran and TeaTree could find Njall.

  I can’t risk putting Njall in danger.

  But when Frayka walked toward Jojen, Ling’s father stepped between them and said, “Because of you, my daughter is dead. The serpent dragon that protected this village is dead. We all risk hard times without that protection. You owe us.” Ling’s father pointed at Frayka and spoke to Jojen. “Give the girl to us. If another serpent graces us with its protection, we’ll give her to it as our first sacrifice.”

  Jojen’s face fell in disbelief as he stared at Ling’s father. “Surely you forget that you’re talking about a member of the Po Dynasty.”

  Ling’s father spoke with the same calm demeanor as if trading with a merchant. “A member who doesn’t live with the royal family. That girl has diluted blood. She’s
not a real Po.”

  “But the Empress Po wants her returned to Zangcheen,” Jojen said. He drew his short sword, and the other guards followed suit.

  “You work for the empress,” Ling’s father said. “But you have no authority here.”

  Keeping his gaze on Ling’s father, Jojen reached his free hand toward Frayka. “Come here, Frayka. We will leave now.”

  Sizing up the situation, Frayka took a tentative step toward Jojen, even though Ling’s father still stood in her way.

  Another village man pulled an axe from where it rested on a tree stump. Other villagers retrieved rakes and scythes stored in nearby places. They surrounded the royal guards.

  “There’s no need to resist,” Ling’s father said. “All we want is the girl, and you can be on your way.”

  “That’s impossible,” Jojen said. “I’m bound by my duty to the empress to bring Frayka back home.”

  Another villager called out, “We could throw their bodies into the ravine over the hill. No one would ever find them.”

  The guards shifted closer together.

  “You would have to answer to the empress herself in the Hall of Justice,” Jojen said.

  The villagers inched closer to the guards, forcing them to close their ranks.

  “My answer to the empress is simple,” Ling’s father said. “We never saw you. You must have met your demise somewhere between here and Zangcheen, because you failed to arrive in our village.”

  The villager holding the axe rushed in and held it against Jojen’s neck before the guard could react. “If you don’t leave that girl behind, his head comes off.” The sharpened edge nicked Jojen’s skin, and blood trickled down his neck.

  While the guards held still, Frayka saw an opportunity: the villager holding Jojen hostage stood with his back to her.

  Frayka darted around Ling’s father, who—along with everyone else—stared at the guards. Sliding on the ground, she thrust a sharp kick up at the back of the villager’s knees.

  Crying out in surprise, he let go of the axe and crumpled to the ground in pain.

  Frayka scooped up the axe, knelt with her full weight on the collapsed villager’s chest, and held the blade of his own axe against his face. Looking up at the crowd, she shouted, “No!”