by Resa Nelson
“It might,” TeaTree said, his voice buoyant with hope.
“I thought the Far East dragon gods are elemental gods,” Frayka said. “What if asking only three of them to make amends to the Northlander gods offends the fourth one? What if he gets angry? Won’t he strike back? I’ve heard the stories about how the dragon gods destroyed the Northlands. Do they have enough power to destroy the whole world?”
GranGran pointed at the mountain above, where thin streams of molten fire trickled down its side and sizzled into the sea. “Fiera could burn the world up into cinders. Wendill could cause the earth to shake and tear apart until it swallowed all mortals. Kikita could spin the air into wind funnels powerful enough to rip apart everyone and everything on the face of this world.”
Frayka swallowed a lump of fear that threatened to pressure the back of her throat.
There’s no time to be afraid. I have to give all my thought to deciding how to solve this problem.
As if in agreement, the snoozing Dagby grunted and shifted her position against her mother’s chest.
“That means,” Frayka said, “if I anger the god of water, he could flood the world. The Northlander gods will kill all Northlanders if I fail, but the god of water could kill everyone in the entire world.”
“That seems extreme.” TeaTree fidgeted. “Surely no god would do such a radical thing over a petty squabble among gods.”
“When you’re the one in the middle of a squabble, it’s not petty,” Frayka said.
“I would say that about mortals,” TeaTree said. “But they’re gods.”
“They simply have more power than us,” GranGran said. “But that power doesn’t make them better than mortals. All gods are just as flawed as any mortal. They take offense when none is intended. They anger too quickly instead of being mindful and attempting to understand the situation. They can take action too quickly and then regret their actions after the damage has been done and is beyond repair. We must take care in every choice we make, because if any god destroys our world and all the people in it, no god has the power to restore life. They only have the power to annihilate it.”
Frayka’s mind raced. “Fiera agreed to help me because she thinks it’s impossible for me to convince the god of water to join us.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s right,” GranGran said. “It is only Fiera’s opinion.”
“But what if Fiera is right?” Frayka said. “Don’t the dragon gods know each other better than we can?”
“Not necessarily.” GranGran offered a small smile that struck Frayka as mysterious.
What does GranGran know that she isn’t saying?
“It can be unwise to assume that the dragon gods get along better with each other than they do with the Northlander gods,” GranGran said.
Frayka felt her face slacken in surprise. Although she had never considered that the relationship among the dragon gods of the Far East would be anything other than harmonious, GranGran’s observation would explain Fiera’s peculiar behavior. The goddess’s immediate cooperation had struck Frayka as the result of some deeper issue at work.
If Fiera didn’t get along with the god of water, maybe her willingness to help was meant to ensure that the god of water would want to have nothing to do with Frayka.
GranGran gestured toward the neatly situated town that spread at sea level before them. Tiny square houses made of weathered, gray wood lined a wide central avenue cutting through the center of the village. Dirt alleys separated rows of houses that expanded from the town center to the tree-dotted shoreline of the small island. “This island is our home for now. You and your child should settle in and get some rest.”
Flanked by GranGran and TeaTree, Frayka approached the village and then strolled down its central avenue and alleys. The walk gave Frayka hope.
Ever since arriving in the Far East with her missing husband Njall, Frayka had been struck by the country’s cruel laws and punishments. Based on the stories she’d heard her father tell, Frayka understood that people thought of Northlanders as vicious warriors, which she found peculiar.
Frayka considered herself to be fierce in battle but fought only when need be. She considered her fellow Northlanders to be sensible and practical people.
But her experience in the Far East made Frayka realize how much she’d taken her own freedom for granted, along with the respect she felt from fellow Northlanders.
No Northlander would ever judge a woman for the decisions she had the right to make for herself, much less punish that woman by boiling her to death, a fate that had befallen one of GranGran’s neighbors when Frayka first arrived.
No Northlander would allow a man to capture a woman with the intent of making her his bride, a fate that had befallen Frayka herself.
In the Northlands, and in Frayka’s homeland of the Land of Ice, any man who tried to do such a thing to a woman would likely be met by her dagger or sword—or possibly her fists. And should the consequence be that such a man end up maimed or killed, Northlanders would congratulate the woman for defending herself.
Wherever Frayka traveled in the Far East, she’d been appalled at the way she’d been treated by Far Easterners and by the way they treated their own women. She didn’t understand why no one seemed to value their mother or daughters. It made no sense to her.
But here on Seahorse Island, Frayka felt at ease for the first time since leaving home. After peppering GranGran and TeaTree with questions, Frayka delighted in learning that not only did the island serve as a sanctuary for girls and women brave enough to leave their conventional homes but that most Far Easterners considered the place to be nothing more than a fairy tale.
But it’s real. Seahorse Island is real.
Glancing back over her shoulder, Frayka looked at the mountain behind her, naturally situated so that it would never cast a shadow over this village of women and girls.
Frayka thought about her own village of Blackstone and the Land of Ice. She thought about her family and neighbors. She wanted nothing more than to return home and raise her child in the place and among the people she loved.
She wondered about Njall and felt the familiar pang in her chest from missing him. She missed his allegiance and the love he showed for her. Frayka desperately wanted him to meet his child. She’d seen him last inside the Hall of Justice inside the royal complex of the city of Zangcheen. Frayka had searched but failed to find him, but she knew little of what GranGran and TeaTree had learned of her husband’s whereabouts.
I vowed to sacrifice Njall for the sake of making amends among the gods to save all Northlanders.
But now I have a chance to find out if he’s alive or dead.
TeaTree pointed at a dwelling at the end of the alley, close to the sea. “This is where we’re staying.”
“You should relax for the rest of the day,” GranGran said. “Regain your strength and then we can discuss what to do next.”
“No,” Frayka said. “First I want you to tell me everything you’ve learned about Njall.”
“Not here,” GranGran said. “Even in a place such as this, it is never wise to speak one’s secrets in public.”
CHAPTER 2
The interior of their temporary home on Seahorse Island reminded Frayka of a scaled-down version of GranGran’s house in Zangcheen. Although small, it had a long, low-slung table surrounded by plenty of floor pillows. Frayka nestled Dagby to sleep on one of the large pillows and then sat across the table from GranGran and TeaTree. “Is Njall alive?”
“We have found no trace of him,” GranGran said.
“We don’t know if he’s alive,” TeaTree added. “I spent months traveling throughout the Wulong Province, but no one I talked to had seen him. That makes me think he never left Zangcheen. Your great-grandmother searched the city and the royal complex until Empress Ti imprisoned her.”
“Imprisoned?” Frayka looked from TeaTree to GranGran, confused. “Did I hear you right?”
GranGran stared at Frayka wi
th watery eyes. “Empress Ti commanded me to stay inside the palace. I could go nowhere on my own. The empress forced me to teach her how to fight, and when she didn’t need me I was locked inside a guest room.”
“And once I returned to Zangcheen,” TeaTree said, “they imprisoned me in the same room.”
“I don’t understand Empress Ti,” Frayka said. “She’s several years younger than me, but she knows how the laws treat women. She knows how close she came to being in danger. If Emperor Po hadn’t changed the law, some man would have snatched Ti up and claimed her for his bride so he could become emperor. But Emperor Po changed the law in time to save Ti. There’s no reason for her to imprison either one of you.”
“She knows we’re looking for Njall,” TeaTree said. “Maybe she locked us up to make us stop looking.”
“Do you think something happened to Njall? Do you think Ti knows where he is?” Frayka thought back to the necessity of pretending Njall was her slave because of the law forbidding anyone who looked like a Far Easterner to marry a Northlander like Njall. “Didn’t anyone tell Ti that Njall is mine? Why wouldn’t she return him to me?”
“She knows,” TeaTree said.
“What?” Fear for Njall’s safety rushed through Frayka’s body.
“Maybe Empress Ti figured it out,” TeaTree said. “Or maybe someone else discerned the truth and told her. But there’s evidence that she knows you’re married to Njall, and as empress she has the right to take you to court, find you guilty, and sentence you and Njall to death.”
“So Ti knows where my husband is,” Frayka said. “Is she looking for me? Ti can’t hurt Njall until she takes us both to court, can she?”
“That is not what concerns us,” GranGran said. She paused and exchanged a concerned look with TeaTree.
“What does concern you?” Frayka said.
“I learned something else during my travels,” TeaTree said. “Babies have gone missing.”
Startled by his words, Frayka couldn’t help but look at Dagby, still sleeping peacefully on a pillow, to make sure the child was still there. Looking back at TeaTree, she said, “What do you mean they’ve gone missing?”
“People told me when the morning comes, they find their babies gone.”
“They crawled away?”
“They were taken,” TeaTree continued. “Even when the parents keep the child in bed with them.”
Frayka shook her head in dismay. “How can that happen?”
“I suspect magic,” GranGran said. “And if there’s magic involved, the most likely suspects are the royal magician. Or his son.”
“But why would they do such a thing?” Frayka felt more befuddled by the moment.
GranGran spoke in a quiet and calm voice. “The royal magician acts only at the command of the empress. And his son is the empress’s only friend. I believe the boy would do anything for her.”
“But it makes no sense,” Frayka said. “The empress is younger than me. She can have all the children she wants. There’s no reason for her to steal other people’s babies.”
GranGran shrugged. “We have no proof. Empress Ti might have nothing to do with it, nor her magicians.”
“But the only place this happens is in the outermost regions of the Wulong Province,” TeaTree said. “The regions are so small and remote that no word has traveled beyond the villages where the crimes happen.”
“The citizens of Zangcheen know nothing about it,” GranGran said. “I find that peculiar.”
GranGran’s words washed over Frayka because she couldn’t forget what TeaTree said. “The outermost regions? Isn’t that where we are now?”
“Yes,” TeaTree said. “But everyone knows this island belongs to the goddess of fire. The mountain faces the mainland, and this village hides behind the mountain. Few people know the village exists.”
GranGran chuckled. “Mainlanders fear the goddess of fire. They fear offending her.”
Frayka glanced once more at Dagby. “Are you saying we’re safe here?”
TeaTree looked at GranGran, deferring to her opinion.
“For now,” GranGran said. “But keep a close watch on your child just in case.”
* * *
The Empress Ti stood in the main room of the Hall of Concubines. During her father’s reign, this Welcoming Room had been decorated with dozens of vases of well-arranged fresh flowers from the gardens outside, as well as pillows covered in silk and decorative chairs and lounges carved from dark thundercloud wood imported from the Mountains of Dawn.
Since the day Empress Ti had commanded her dead father’s concubines to vacate this hall and take up work as servants in the palace, she’d left the décor to her new concubines, men recruited from their former positions as laborers and artists. Two dozen of them marched into the room and wore little more than silken scarves tied low across their hips. They succeeded in garnering her attention. She made a habit of rewarding every man who pleased her with a trinket or bauble, usually made of gold or encrusted with gems. Although such things meant little to Ti, she knew even the smallest item she bestowed had great value in the lives of everyday people.
Day by day, her concubines became wealthy men.
The concubines arranged themselves in a single line in front of Empress Ti. They stood with their heads up and shoulders back, ready for inspection. She appreciated the variety of men recruited for this hall by the royal guards. The men standing before her ranged from her favorite, Chi—a tall, rugged man with well-defined muscles—to average and short-statured men. Some concubines were strong and hardy, while others showed the delicate sensibilities of artists.
Ti enjoyed the variety but favored Chi because he had the public manner of a ruffian but in private treated her with the kind of tenderness she craved. Unlike most of the other concubines, today Chi wore a full-length blue robe belted at the waist. One shoulder of the robe dropped casually down one arm, exposing half of his chest.
Instead of working her way down the line to choose her companion for the moment, Ti remained still because she noticed an obvious absence. “Where’s Njall?”
Neither the concubines nor the handful of guards standing at attention behind Empress Ti answered. All of the concubines except for Chi concentrated on the floor beneath their feet.
“Chi!” Empress Ti said. “Why isn’t Njall here?”
“I don’t know where he is,” Chi said with a steady voice. Unlike the other concubines, Chi never hesitated to stare directly into the eyes of the empress.
Empress Ti also favored Chi because she believed he prided himself on telling the truth.
In childhood, it didn’t take long before Ti saw the different ways in which men and women were treated. Her father—Emperor Po—and his advisors were treated with the greatest of respect. The times when she hid outside the courtroom door in the Hall of Justice and eavesdropped on cases presented to her father taught Ti that while common people commanded less attention and regard, the men received far more favor than the women.
That’s when Ti learned that the best way to achieve one’s desires in life was to be a man.
More recently Ti learned she could accomplish what she wanted and needed by taking over the rule of Zangcheen and the Wulong Province as empress. One great benefit she now had stemmed from her childhood, her observation of the ways men and women were treated, and the penchant she had developed for determining whether any given individual was lying or telling the truth.
To the best of her knowledge, Chi always told the truth.
But sometimes he says the most peculiar things. Sometimes he fails to answer the question asked and talks as if he’s answering a question I never asked.
Maybe that’s how he manages to tell the truth: by answering only the questions he wants to answer whether anyone has asked that question or not.
Let’s see if I can back him into a corner.
“Chi.” Empress Ti smiled. “Is Njall in the Hall of Concubines?”
Chi returned her smil
e. “I don’t know where Njall is.”
Ti stepped forward and stood directly in front of Chi. “That isn’t what I asked. Answer my question: Is Njall in the Hall of Concubines?”
“Truly, my empress,” Chi said. “I don’t know where he is.”
Satisfied by the truth she saw in his eyes, Ti turned and spoke to the guards. “Search the building. If you find Njall, bring him to me.”
While the guards scattered throughout the building, Ti resumed her conversation with Chi. “You like Njall, don’t you?”
“I like every man here, my empress. You have chosen a fine group of men.”
“Yes, I agree.” Although the guards had chosen the men, Ti believed herself entitled to take credit. After all, she was the one who had ordered the guards to find concubines for her, and she’d told the guards what she wanted. “But if you like Njall, that means you might be protecting him.”
Chi laughed. “Protect him from what?”
The concubines standing on either side of him trembled at his boldness.
“From me.” Empress Ti ignored everyone but Chi. “And the power I have to destroy him should he cross me.”
The hunched shoulders and bowed heads of the other concubines proved to Empress Ti that they listened closely, knowing she was talking about all of her concubines, not just Njall.
Empress Ti stepped close to Chi. “Tell me why Njall isn’t here.”
With an audacious grin, Chi took Empress Ti by the waist and pulled her to his chest. “Forget Njall. I’m the one you want. No need to waste time.”
Chi’s touch proved enough to convince the empress. She loved the way his large, meaty hands folded around her waist.
Annoyed with her weakness for the pleasure Chi’s hands promised, Ti gave in. “Fine.” Addressing the other concubines, she said, “Tell the guards to wait for me here. I’ll be back soon.”
Sweeping her up in his arms, Chi whispered in her ear, “Don’t count on it.”
CHAPTER 3
Earlier that morning, Njall awoke with a start when he felt something skitter across his legs.
