by Resa Nelson
What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?
Frozen with fear, Asu knew he couldn’t go up or down the slope because he would be killed by the boulders or ice chunks broken loose and now plummeting from the higher ground. If he ran to the left where he’d spotted Frayka, it would take him even deeper into the path of the oncoming avalanche.
With a sudden realization, Asu looked to his right, where the brook trickled from the opposite side of the slope and through a thick patch of forest. He bolted in that direction and plunged between the thick, protective trunks in time to escape the landslide. While the disruption he’d caused rushed past, Asu smiled, looking forward to what he expected would happen next.
CHAPTER 21
Frayka ran into the village by the sea. Fishermen preparing to set sail filled its streets. A crowd of them walked toward the docks, carrying nets as well as paper packets of food and bottles of wine and water. The men wore once-white cotton shirts and pants, now stained by years of mud and sea spray.
Frayka waved to catch the attention of the fishermen and drew upon the Far Eastern language she’d learned, first from TeaTree and then from months of practice with Wendill. “Help! Please help me!”
Most of the men continued toward their boats, but some paused and turned back to look at Frayka.
Encouraged, she ran toward them. “I am Frayka. I need someone who can take me to an island.”
One grizzled man with a sharp gleam of intelligence in his eyes gave his attention to Frayka while the others laughed and walked away. “Where?” the grizzled man said.
Before Frayka could answer, a woman with white hair bundled on top of her head scurried toward them. The old woman spoke so quickly that Frayka couldn’t separate out any of the words she said. The grizzled man glanced at the approaching woman and clenched his jaw.
Soon, Frayka realized she didn’t need to understand the white-haired woman’s words to know what she said. Jabbering loudly, the old woman pointed an accusing finger at Frayka and then pushed the grizzled man away from Frayka. The old woman positioned herself between them, keeping both at arm’s length.
She’s his wife. She thinks I’m trying to steal her husband away.
“No,” Frayka said in an effort to resolve the misunderstanding. She lifted the black cloth covering Dagby’s face. “I have a baby.”
“Baby!” the old woman shouted. Now screaming, the wife pummeled her husband with her fists.
Blocking his face, the grizzled man shouted back, “It’s not my baby!”
Mortified, Frayka also resorted to shouting. “I have a husband! My baby belongs to me and my husband! This is my husband’s baby—not your husband’s baby!”
The old woman paused and turned toward Frayka with hatred in her eyes. “Shame!” the woman uttered. With a quick hand, she snatched away the top layer of black cloth covering Frayka. Looking at the black cloth she now held, the old woman said, “Sacred.” She thrust a blaming finger with her other hand at Frayka. “Shame!” The old woman then wrapped the black cloth around herself, apparently laying claim to it.
A rumble sounded from the mountaintop and the street shook so hard that Frayka had to take a step to keep her balance. She looked up to see dust rise above the summit while debris rolled down from the peak. So startled that she switched to speaking Northlander without realizing it, Frayka said, “Landslide!”
Villagers poured out of their homes and stared up at the mountain. Fishermen called out, and people swarmed toward the water.
“The boats!” the grizzled man shouted. He pointed at the dock.
Frayka understood at once. A landslide could bury the village. Its debris could also fall into the sea, but being on a boat among perilous waves would surely be safer than risking being buried alive.
“The baby!” the grizzled man said, leaning forward to reach past his wife for Frayka’s hand.
Accepting it, Frayka clung to Dagby, now crying, and ran to keep up with the grizzled man’s surprisingly fast pace. She followed him, winding along the dock until he shoved her toward a small blue fishing boat.
The rumbling noise increased until it sounded like booming thunder punctuated with the heavy thuds of boulders bouncing toward the village. A whoosh of dust and dirt particles darkened the air.
Frayka coughed and let go of the fisherman’s hand so she could tug the cloth covering her chest to shield Dagby’s face.
The grizzled man jumped onboard and then reached back to take Frayka’s elbow. “Jump!” he shouted over the commotion of the landslide and the villagers trying to escape it.
Without pause, Frayka kept a firm arm around Dagby and jumped onto the boat. When Frayka landed, her knees gave way and she crumpled to the floorboards.
The grizzled man used a pole to push the boat away from the dock.
Left behind, his wife shouted. Huffing and puffing, she could manage no more than a slow jog toward the dock.
With a skilled and quick hand, the grizzled man raised a sail, catching the downward draft brought by the avalanche. The boat sped several lengths into the bay.
The wife, still cloaked in Frayka’s black wrap, took a few more steps and then collapsed on the ground.
The boulders from the summit were small enough that each one came to a rolling stop in the streets or when they struck houses. Shards of ice sounded like broken glass when they spilled across the streets.
The grizzled man’s wife kicked away a shard that landed beside her.
With another downdraft carrying them farther away from the dock, Frayka asked, “Is she safe? Can we go back? Can we help her?”
In response, the grizzled fisherman grunted and maintained his course out into the bay to join the other boats seeking a safe distance.
Frayka imagined this village had experienced landslides like this before. She trusted he knew what to do.
But while watching the dock, Frayka rubbed her eyes, trying to understand what she saw.
The figure of a man stood up behind the grizzled man’s wife. But instead of skin and clothing, he glinted in the sunlight as if he were made of ice.
Shards of ice. They fell on the street. Have they cobbled together into a man?
Frayka remembered a day in the recent past when dragons made of ice had threatened her settlement in the Land of Ice.
It’s sorcery.
The man of ice raised one arm high, glistening and sparkling in the sunlight.
Even from this distance, Frayka saw that instead of a hand, he bore a single blade of ice that looked like a dagger.
Still standing behind the fisherman’s wife, covered with Frayka’s black cloth, the ice man drove his dagger-like hand down and through the woman’s skull. The monstrous figure then fell apart into a thousand pieces of ice, soon to melt in the sunlight.
CHAPTER 22
Madam Po completed her morning exercises in her own home, ready to begin a new day. She sat with TeaTree at the table in the main room of her house over a fresh pot of bee flower tea and a plate of fresh berries from her garden, tended by her neighbors during her absence.
“It feels good to be home at last,” Madam Po said. “But we should leave soon.”
TeaTree warmed his hands by cradling his cup. “I find it hard to believe no one could prevent our escape.”
“As do I.” Madam Po stared up at the empty birdcages hanging from her ceiling. She missed her birds but felt grateful her neighbors had set them free so they wouldn’t starve. “I suspect someone engineered it.”
“Empress Ti?”
“She is the most obvious suspect.”
TeaTree chuckled. “Those guards put so little effort into stopping us that only a fool would believe they made a real effort. If that weren’t enough, they placed two horses directly in front of us.” His laughter drained away, and his face twisted with worry. “But why?”
“It must be the messages about Frayka that Ti received from that mountain man. Nothing else unusual has happened. Ti was content to keep me lock
ed up for months. She demanded I teach her how to fight.”
TeaTree’s eyes filled with concern. “And you taught her.”
Madam Po grinned. “I taught her how to fight in such a way that she can be defeated by anyone with true skills.”
“And the messages—do you think Ti let us escape because she assumes we’ll lead her to Frayka?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.” Madam Po drummed her gnarled fingers against the tabletop. “But why? How can finding Frayka benefit the empress? Why does that matter so much to Ti?”
TeaTree sipped his tea. “You said we should leave. Where will we go?”
“I suspect I know how to find Frayka. If the empress seeks her, Frayka will need our help.”
“What about Njall?”
“We’ve learned nothing about Njall’s fate. Until my portents return in their truest form—and until they reveal information about Njall—there is nothing we can do for him.”
“Truest form?” TeaTree perked up with hope. “Have you had a portent?”
“When you awoke me hours ago,” Madam Po said. “I thought a false portent had come to me in my dreams, but now I believe it was a flawed portent.”
“Flawed?”
Madam Po devoured a handful of berries before answering. “My husband’s spirit appeared, which usually happens in a true portent. During these past eight months I’ve requested a portent every time I go to bed. Although my husband appeared in my dreams, as soon as he tried to speak, he would disappear and the dream would end.” She winked at TeaTree. “But last night was different, and he stayed with me. My husband and I always understood each other very well. We didn’t always need words.”
“He told you something,” TeaTree said, riveted by Madam Po’s words.
“He confirmed what I suspected. That Empress Ti is responsible for the death of her father, Emperor Po.” Madam Po climbed to her feet. “That means it is time to leave Zangcheen.”
CHAPTER 23
Why did I let Asu leave the royal complex?
Ti knew the answer. Asu Chu had promised to set up a decoy that would draw Frayka and her infant daughter out into the open where they could be captured and brought back to Zangcheen. His plan would bring the girl child into the palace where that girl’s blood would cure Ti’s ailing body and ensure the empress’s immortality.
But without Asu Chu, Ti had no one to kill the babies stolen from the outermost regions of the Wulong Province. She had no one to bleed them and smear their blood over her skin.
So, this morning, she’d crept up before sunrise and slithered through the hallways of the royal palace to the place where a baby was left for Asu Chu each morning. Like every morning, Ti struggled to place one foot in front of the other because her legs felt as if they were turning into jelly. Because Asu had left for the mountains, Ti decided to do everything herself. She trusted no one besides Asu. Although the task of murdering a sleeping baby made Ti’s stomach turn, she turned her thoughts to what would happen if she failed to do it.
My bones are weaker every day. I hardly have enough energy to stay awake. My thoughts grow muddled.
If I don’t do this, I won’t be able to hide my condition any longer. The advisors will overthrow me and fight among themselves to become emperor.
There’s no other choice.
Without anyone to apply the fresh blood to her skin, Ti let the blood cover the floor. She then undressed and rolled in it like a pig in mud. Once the blood had absorbed into her skin and revived her, Ti put her clothes back on and stepped into the hallway, now aglow with the early morning light.
Her stomach continued to twist into knots. It was easier when Asu Chu did the difficult task of killing. She didn’t mind letting someone else apply blood to her skin when she knew it brought much-needed healing powers.
But it felt different when she held the knife that did the killing.
Sickened, she wanted someone to comfort her.
Empress Ti wished she had someone who could listen. Someone who might care whether she lived or died. Someone who understood that Ti made these decisions out of necessity.
She missed her father.
For the first time, Ti considered she might be able to find solace with someone who also had cared about her father.
With a new sense of purpose, Ti marched toward the Temple of Dark and Light and the adjacent quarters of her father’s royal magician, both contained within the walls of the royal palace.
After knocking on the door to the magician’s quarters, Ti stood tall and proud, reminding herself that everyone must obey the empress.
When Tao Chu opened the door, he didn’t look surprised. “My empress,” he said.
“I need your advice,” Ti said.
Tao Chu remained quiet for a few moments and appeared to weigh her words. “Best done in the chamber at the entrance of the Temple where I counseled the Emperor Po.” He swept his hand toward a closed door across the hallway and then led the way into that chamber.
After Tao Chu lit the lanterns bordering the doorway, he appeared to walk into a wall and vanish.
Ti eased her way toward the wall, surprised to find a slim opening leading into a tiny space lined with benches carved into the surrounding walls. She turned sideways and slipped into that niche. The flickering light made shadows dance high up onto the tall ceiling above her head. The polished black stone walls reflected that light as well as the distress on Ti’s face. She sat on a stone bench when the royal magician gestured for her to do so.
Tao Chu sat across from her. “How can I be of service to my empress?”
In that moment, Ti decided the time had come to put all her fears aside. “You think I killed my father.”
Startled, Tao Chu looked aghast. “My Empress, I never—”
“You never formally accused me. I know. But it’s what you think.” Ti sat up straight and maintained an unwavering gaze at the magician.
Tao Chu began to speak and then appeared to think better of it. He stared back at the empress. Finally, he said, “All evidence makes it an undeniable fact.”
“I deny nothing,” Ti said. “I did kill my father. But as your empress, I command you to listen to me.”
Tao Chu pressed his lips together and gave a brief nod.
Ti poured out all the feelings in her heart as if she were speaking to her father. “Many months ago, I reached the age of consent to marry. Every eligible man in the royal complex eyed me as if I were a prize to be won. And that’s exactly what I was.” Ti gestured toward the closed door while thinking beyond it to the sleeping quarters of her step-mother. “And I know the fate of the wife of the emperor. It’s a fate of being treated like little more than a prize sow needed only to bear piglets.”
Through his pressed lips Tao Chu said, “You’re a young woman, not a sow.”
“You don’t know what it’s like,” Ti hissed. “I remember little about my own mother, but I know she felt slighted and hurt and ignored by my father. I saw the same thing happen to my step-mother. The emperor doesn’t care who gets hurt by what he does. The emperor gets to do whatever he wants to do, whenever he wants to do it, and he answers to no one.”
Tao Chu spoke in a cool tone. “That is the advantage of being emperor.”
“And now it’s the advantage of being empress. I did what my father did before me.”
Anger underlined the magician’s voice. “Emperor Po did not kill his father.”
“No,” Ti said. “Emperor Po killed his mother.”
Confusion contorted Tao Chu’s face for a moment. “Your grandmother committed a crime.”
“A minor one,” Ti said. “One my father easily could have overlooked. He bent the law more by pardoning the Northlander Frayka from a death sentence. And the question I had to ask was why would my father save a distant relative like Frayka and fail to save his own mother’s life?”
Tao Chu stared at her as if alarmed by the question.
“My grandfather had no male chi
ldren in his royal family,” Ti said. “And the law said that his eldest son by a concubine would become the next emperor. My father, Emperor Po, was the son of a concubine—just like you.”
Tao Chu’s face paled with even greater alarm.
“You met as children because you were half-brothers with the same concubine mother. It’s why you and my father were such great friends. Lifelong friends. It’s how you became the royal magician.” Ti leaned forward, smiling with the knowledge of the power she held in her hands. “But the people of Zangcheen have never been partial to the sons of concubines. They like true royalty. And as long as my grandmother the concubine lived, the more challenging it must have been for the people to accept my father when he became their new emperor.”
Tao Chu blinked but didn’t speak.
“My father killed his mother at the first opportunity to charge her with a minor law. He killed his mother for his own benefit as emperor.”
“For the benefit of Zangcheen,” Tao Chu said at last. “For the benefit of the entire Wulong Province.”
“This is why I killed my father. How could our people accept an advisor—someone without a speck of blood from the Po Dynasty—to rule them?” Ti stood from the bench. “For the sake of our people, the law had to be changed so a woman can be empress. And my father had to die so that law would stand in place before he could change his mind.”
Ti paused, aware of the tension that now filled the air and the fact that she’d been the one to put it there. She let silence stand between them like a wall before she continued. “I killed my father for the same reason he killed his mother. To remind the people in this city and province that a true member of the Po Dynasty protects and leads them.”
“Protects?” Tao Chu said, his voice as sharp as broken ice. “By stealing and murdering their children?”
Ti laughed. “At your advice!” She took a small step forward. “Stealing and murdering a few children has saved my life. And if I’m not alive, how can I protect and lead my people? If I’m not alive, who is left to rule in my place?” When she tried to take another step, her knees buckled. Ti cried out when she collapsed on the stone floor.
