The Dragon Gods Box Set

by Resa Nelson

  Tao Chu knelt beside her. “I’ve already helped you,” he said. “All I ever wanted was to know the truth about your father. I wanted your trust.”

  When he looked at Ti, she saw a sense of relief in his eyes.

  “You have it,” Ti said. She winced while she rearranged her jelly-like legs. “But what good does it do? I fall apart more each day.”

  “I’ve been studying the more arcane books written by past magicians in the royal palace,” Tao Chu said. “I have new ideas that might help.” He scooped Ti up in his arms and then carried her into the small and secluded temple room. He placed her on the floor before a small altar. Tao Chu lit the candles and incense he had already placed on that altar.

  “When I leave you alone in the temple,” he said, “I advise you to make sacrifices to the Great Emperor who rules in the realm beyond ours. Also, make sacrifices in the name of all the rivers and hills of the region where Frayka was last seen. I will place the items to sacrifice on the altar, but you must make the request as empress.”

  Ti nodded. Never before had she considered the actual tasks expected of an empress. She knew her father had performed such rituals, but for the first time Ti realized she must step into his shoes and meet the same responsibilities. “I understand.”

  Tao Chu knelt behind the altar and then rejoined the empress’s side with a dagger in his hands. Worn and faded leather strips covered the weapon’s unadorned grip. “Long before your father or I came into this world, a merchant brought this from the Northlands. There once were fabled blacksmiths who fashioned weapons for dragonslayers. See the magic inside the blade.”

  He tilted the dagger from side to side until it caught the candlelight from the altar.

  “It looks a bit blue,” Ti said, peering closer.

  “Watch how the dragons trapped inside it come alive.”

  In the dim light inside the Temple of Dark and Light, Ti squinted to bring her vision of the dagger into better focus. The candlelight flickered violently, and Ti thought she saw shapes of dragons squirming on the surface of the polished blade. Startled by the sight, she leaned back.

  “The books I consulted say such a weapon can be used to free a member of the Po Dynasty from any ill cast upon them.” Tao Chu paused and offered his free hand to the empress. When Ti accepted, he pulled her close again. “But know this: the dagger can be used only once. The benefit it provides will be temporary, not permanent. When its magic is released, it is gone for good.”

  Confused, Ti looked up at the royal magician. “That doesn’t solve my problem.”

  “The only thing that can solve your problem is the blood of a child born by a woman of the Po Dynasty—the books confirm what I suspected. If you are correct, the blood of Frayka’s child is doubly strong due to its combination of Northlander and Po Dynasty qualities.” Tao Chu offered the leather grip of the dagger to Ti. “But while we wait for that child to be captured and brought to you, this will help for now.”

  Even though fear made her shudder, Ti took the grip with a tentative hand. “What do I do with it?”

  A force from within the weapon shuddered into her hand and made her fingers numb.

  “Cut yourself free of your own skin,” Tao Chu said. Standing, he said, “You might want to remove your clothing first.” Without another word, he exited the Temple of Dark and Light, closing the door to the hallway firm in its place behind him.

  Ti wanted to cry out and ask the royal magician for help, but she thought of her father instead. She thought of all the times he had come to this temple and all the difficulties he must have faced as emperor. Her father wouldn’t have cried out for help. He would have acted like the emperor he was.

  And I’m the empress.

  The power emanating from the handle of the dagger pulsed through Ti’s skin and into her veins. It felt as if she were walking through a dense pine forest where needles pierced her skin at every turn.

  To the empty temple Ti said, “I declare my sacrifice to you, Great Emperor, in the name of all the rivers and hills of the region of Dragon Mountain in the Wulong Province.”

  The hinges of her jaw ached. Her elbows, knees, and hips screamed in pain with each breath.

  Ti’s skin tightened as if it had burned by the sun. Her skin stretched until she thought it would burst.

  Wracked with pain, Ti felt overwhelmed by a compulsion to slice her own skin. Gripping the dagger with her right hand, she made a shallow cut on the back of her left hand.

  The skin at the site of the cut became as brittle and brown as fallen leaves. Fresh, healthy skin glowed beneath. Ti remembered what Tao Chu told her moments ago.

  Cut yourself free of your own skin. You might want to remove your clothing first.

  Still staggered by her pain, Ti understood that the royal magician’s advice had been literal. She placed the dagger on the stone floor and pulled her clothes off as fast as she could. Ti then gripped the weapon once more and used its sharp edges to cover her body with superficial cuts.

  The tightness of her outermost skin eased. The aches in her joints vanished. The burning and piercing sensations drifted away.

  When Ti first tried to tear open the brittle layer of skin at a cut site on her thigh, it felt like old, tough leather and refused to yield to her touch. Warmth ran through her veins that strengthened her hands and her resolve. Ti shifted her grip on each edge of skin at the cut site and groaned when she pulled again.

  This time, the brittle skin gave way, and it ripped apart. Continuing to tear at it, Ti finally opened the damaged layer of her outermost skin until she could climb out of it like a butterfly escaping its cocoon.

  Her new skin glowed in the candlelight, perfect and untouched. Her bones felt strong and solid. She stood in perfect balance on her own powerful feet.

  Taking care with each step so nothing would trip her, Ti stepped out of the ankle-high pile of discarded skin. It pooled in a circle, stacked in layers upon itself. It reminded Ti of a decaying animal one might stumble upon in the forest.

  Relief washed through Ti with every breath she took. At the same time, she remembered Tao Chu’s warning.

  The dagger can be used only once. When its magic is released, it is gone for good.

  Holding the dagger up to the candlelight, Ti noticed it had changed. The blade bore the silver-black color of polished iron. It no longer showed hints of blue. Where she once saw images of dragons squirming on the surface, Ti now saw a flat and undecorated blade.

  She also remembered Tao Chu’s advice. Her emperor father had often confided in Ti because she offered him her unwavering attention. Emperor Po had told Ti about the many times he’d made offerings to the Great Emperor in the next realm.

  Ti placed the used dagger on the floor and dressed herself. She then approached the altar, touched each item offered for sacrifice, and spoke to the Great Emperor in the same way she imagined her father had done before she murdered him.

  She asked for help for the sake of her people while knowing any help granted would ensure her own safety and life.

  CHAPTER 24

  Njall paced the long passageway between the men’s quarters and the main welcoming room in the Hall of Concubines. Unlike the finery his peers sported, Njall wore plain black cotton pants and a matching shirt, the same clothing worn by simple laborers in the regions outside Zangcheen. He wore a pale green robe over his black clothing—the pale green color marked him as inexperienced in the ways of pleasing the empress. The clothing was meant to be a punishment. A way to make Njall stand out from the others in a most embarrassing way.

  But Njall felt no embarrassment. If anything, he saw his clothing as a mark of honor for continuing to refuse the empress, no matter how she pestered him to please her. He also suspected the clothing marked him for his many attempts to escape, which caused Empress Ti to double the number of guards at the Hall of Concubines.

  Looking down the hallway, Njall saw one of his peers approach.

  “Why so glum?” Chi sai
d. A slim pair of silk pants rested low on his hips. He played with a new gold chain layered under his favorite jade necklace, both gifted from Empress Ti. “I’ve spared you yet again.” Chi grinned. “There’s no way the empress will think of you after she’s been so thoroughly satisfied by me.”

  Njall returned Chi’s grin and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You have my gratitude.”

  “Make it eternal.” Chi’s grin widened.

  Njall shook his head in confusion.

  “Walk with me.” Chi led the way through the welcoming room, crowded with the other men so intent on playing a board game that they noticed little else. When they entered the hallway leading toward the building’s front door, Chi said, “I had an interesting chat with a guard when I was waiting to see the empress. He wants to have a word with you. But I never saw you, and I don’t know what happened to you.”

  Out of habit, Njall reached for his dagger only to remember that it had been taken from him months ago.

  Chi laughed, softly this time. He lowered his voice. “Nothing to worry about. It’s been good knowing you, friend.” He halted and pointed at the front door. “Funny thing. The empress assumes you’ll try to escape through the back door or maybe out a side window like you did before. So, she only posts one guard at the front door.” Chi winked, waved, and whistled as he sauntered away.

  Njall paused to consider the situation. Although it had taken some time for the Far Eastern men drafted as concubines to warm up to Njall, he had no enemies among them. In fact, he considered Chi to be a true friend.

  Njall continued down the hallway and opened the front door to see the dark silhouette of a guard standing against the soft glow of twilight.

  The guard turned and stared at Njall. “Come with me,” the guard said. Like some guards, this one wore a helmet-like hat that made it difficult to see his face. Most guards found them too uncomfortable and went bare-headed.

  Njall thought he recognized the guard’s voice but couldn’t quite place it.

  Rarely allowed outside, Njall took a deep breath of fresh air. Following his instinct, he walked next to the guard. “Why?” Njall said. “Where are we going?”

  “If you fail,” the guard said, “this is what you will say. You plotted a way to attack me, and I didn’t see it coming. You stole my weapon and forced me to take you through the complex, out in the open where everyone assumed I merely escorted you to the empress at her command.”

  Njall ventured a look around. The dimness of twilight made it difficult to recognize others walking a short distance away, because few bothered to light torches yet.

  He’s helping me escape. Or he’s setting me up.

  “Why are you doing this?” Njall said.

  “Why does a Northlander woman bother to save the life of a royal guard? Why shouldn’t she use an attack on him as her best chance to make her own escape?”

  “Jojen,” Njall said, recognizing the guard’s voice at last. “You saw Frayka? Where is she?”

  “Keep your voice down!” Jojen hissed.

  The buildings of the royal complex loomed around them. Although few people walked the grounds at this time of day, they all appeared to be guards.

  “I saw Frayka months ago in the mountains where the empress sent her to fight a serpent dragon. Frayka is fine. Rather, she was when I saw her last.” Jojen heaved a sigh as if unburdening himself. “I have two little girls and a good wife. When Frayka saved my life, she didn’t just keep a guard alive. She kept a father and husband alive.”

  Njall’s mind raced. “You said you saw Frayka months ago. Why didn’t you tell me before? Why do you help me now?”

  “Word about Frayka’s whereabouts arrived at the palace recently.” Jojen hesitated, seeming to wrestle with his thoughts. “There were messages. I saw them. I can no longer stand by and do nothing.”

  What did those messages say?

  With grim determination, Njall said, “What do you know, Jojen?”

  “If I tell you, it will do neither of us any good. If anyone found out, they would know I told you because no other guard could have seen those messages. Now, keep step with me and say nothing more.”

  They walked in silence to the opposite side of the complex and behind a storage building where a small gate at the wall surrounding the complex stood unmanned. Jojen withdrew his dagger and handed it to Njall, who tucked it under the band of his pants.

  “Tell your wife my debt to her is paid.” Jojen shoved a piece of leather into Njall’s hands. “Strike me! And leave before it’s too late.”

  Njall thought he heard another guard call out in the distance. He balled up his fist and knocked Jojen to the ground. Njall slipped through the gate and studied his surroundings. He spotted the royal shipyard nearby and ran toward it.

  By the time twilight had faded into night, Njall crept aboard a ship and stowed himself away in secret. He still clutched the piece of leather Jojen had shoved into his hands, anxious to see what the morning light would reveal.

  CHAPTER 25

  Frayka stood on the grizzled fisherman’s boat and cried out at the sight of his wife’s body crumpling on the village streets after being stabbed by a man made of ice. Keeping a firm arm around Dagby still strapped to her side, Frayka stared at the fisherman in horror. He now held their fates in his hands.

  The fisherman stood in a daze, looking at the distant image of his wife’s body lying in a heap.

  People in the boats surrounding them shouted and headed back to shore, now that the dangerous landslide had ended.

  “I’m sorry,” Frayka said to the fisherman. “So sorry.”

  Waves from the boats rowing past them slapped against the fisherman’s vessel. Finally, he snapped out of his trance. He looked from the sight of the boats returning to the village to the coastline on either side. With a grunt, he set the sail, and his boat headed for the coast away from the village.

  Is he going to kill me because of what happened to his wife? Does he think it’s my fault? Does he want to make sure no one sees what he does to me so he won’t be punished for it?

  As if sensing Frayka’s concern, Dagby whimpered and fidgeted.

  Determined to protect her daughter, Frayka scanned the coastline.

  When the boat gets close enough to shore, I can jump and then run away. I’m younger. I can outrun him.

  Or if he plans to abandon me there, I’ll find a way for us to survive.

  The fisherman guided the boat to sail parallel to the beach and studied the shoreline until he appeared satisfied. He then aimed the boat toward the shore, sat on the railing, and eased his way hip-deep into the water to secure the boat to the nearest tree. He reached up to help Frayka off the boat.

  Frayka hesitated, unsure if he meant to harm her. Not knowing what else to say, Frayka muttered, “I’m sorry about your wife.”

  The fisherman kept his arms extended toward Frayka, even though she refused to move. “My wife tried to control my life,” the fisherman said. “It was a bad marriage from the start. Everyone knows I’ll be better off without her.”

  Frayka looked into his eyes and believed she saw the truth in them. She allowed the fisherman to take her in his arms and carry her from his boat, while she still kept a firm arm around Dagby. “Why bring me here?”

  The fisherman’s eyes darkened. “No avalanche looks like that. Had to be magic behind it. Families have lived here for generations, hundreds of years. We have no magicians among us.” With feet on solid ground, he eased Frayka so she could stand on the beach. “That leaves you.”

  Startled, Frayka said, “It wasn’t me!”

  “I believe that,” the fisherman said. He untied his boat and held the rope in his hands. “But they won’t.”

  Frayka took a quick look at her new surroundings. A rocky cliff curved into the sea, blocking the village from her sight.

  If I can’t see them, they can’t see me.

  She stood on a narrow beach of hard-packed, damp sand bordered by the base of
the cliff. Short and gnarled trees, twisted into grotesque shapes by the ocean wind, clung to the cliff wall. Pink and white seashells—some intact and others broken—littered the beach. White foam at the forefront of the incoming seawater crept toward her feet, and Frayka backed away to stay dry. “Now what?”

  The fisherman pointed down the coast, away from the direction of his village. “Some ways down, there’s a path. Follow it. Go now. When the tide comes in, it cuts off this beach. Stay much longer, and you’ll be stranded where you stand. Get away before my friends and neighbors find out I brought you here.” Without another word, he climbed on board his boat and headed back toward his village.

  Dagby squirmed, half asleep.

  “Come on, little girl,” Frayka said. “We’re getting out of here while we can.”

  * * *

  Asu Chu crept down the mountainside toward the village, hiding among the trees. By the time he gained enough ground to get a clear view, the avalanche had ended. Seeing a motionless figure lying in the center of a road near the dock, he hoped it might be Frayka.

  If she’s dead, I can take her baby.

  But how?

  The magician’s son had spent his entire life sequestered within the royal complex where his father worked. He didn’t care much for people, and the only friend he had ever made was Empress Ti. As much as he didn’t care for people who lived within the royal complex, he imagined he would care even less for common folk like the ones who must live in this village. He supposed they were coarse and stupid. What would they do if they knew he caused the avalanche that plummeted into their village?

  It’s not safe to go there alone.

  Asu Chu heard several men call his name. Confused, he kept still, hoping he still blended in with the landscape.

  Impossible! I never told anyone in that village my name.

  But the voices kept calling. Soon, Asu Chu realized those voices came from above, not below. He looked up to see the royal guards making their way down the mountain, calling his name.