by Resa Nelson
The village boy’s proclamation stifled Asu Chu, who now stood speechless.
Annoyed by Asu’s lack of action, Ti decided to take matters into her own hands.
Empress Ti walked to stand next to Asu Chu. She noticed he’d gone as ashen as the villagers. Ti shooed him aside and addressed the crowd. “My royal guard Jojen and my friend Asu Chu and I have traveled on long and dusty trails. We seek food and water.”
Immediately, several women stepped forward and chattered, all of them volunteering.
Ti walked to meet them. She remembered her experience in the last village and how successful she’d been by choosing to sleep overnight in a house inhabited by women and no men. Ti spoke in a soft voice. “I would be most grateful if I could confine myself to the company of women while my men are cared for elsewhere.”
A matron who could have been the age of Ti’s late mother spoke up. “Come to my home, Empress. I’m a widow, and all my children are daughters.”
A younger woman said, “And your men are welcome in my house where my brothers will keep good company while I cook.”
Ti smiled with approval. “That will work out quite nicely.”
* * *
Sometime later, Ti sat at a large table among the friendly matron and a group of girls close to her own age. She enjoyed a simple bowl of fish stew brimming with savory vegetables and hot spices. Because the fish had been freshly caught hours ago, the aroma was bright and fragrant without a hint of ocean brine. Ti felt her nose and face burning from the spices, but she enjoyed the sensation.
The matron and her daughters told stories about their village and the people who lived in it. But when Ti finished her meal and pushed her empty bowl away, the matron hushed her daughters and spoke. “You wanted to be surrounded by your own gender, Empress. Is there a reason for that?”
In the city of Zangcheen, Ti would have been tempted to charge the matron with the crime of Speaking Forthrightly to Royalty. But here in this remote fishing village, Ti felt relieved by the woman’s direct approach. “Yes,” Ti said. “I’ve been advised that people in your village might either help me find my destination or will know someone who can.”
“Your destination?” said one of the daughters who appeared to be a few years younger than Ti. “But why would an empress ever leave the royal city?”
“Hush, child!” the matron hissed. She leaned across the table and boxed her daughter’s ears. “That’s no way to speak to royalty.” Turning to Empress Ti, the matron said, “I apologize for my child’s insensitivity.”
Once more, Ti didn’t mind. “Apology accepted. I think it would help you to know the answer.”
The matron and her daughters looked startled but held still and listened.
“I have a distant cousin,” Ti said. “Her name is Frayka, and she has a distinct characteristic: she’s quite a lot taller than any of us.”
“We saw her!” the eldest daughter said. She clapped her hands over her mouth as if realizing too late that she spoke out of turn. Her face colored with shame.
Ti spoke before the matron could box another set of ears. “This is exactly why I think it is a good idea to discuss such matters. Please tell me more.”
Shedding her shame, the eldest daughter said, “It happened the day your man—the boy, not the guard—came to our village. The day of the avalanche and the ice man. Before any of that happened, a strangely tall woman came into our village with a babe in her arms.”
Ti’s heart raced with excitement. “Yes. That’s my distant cousin, Frayka. Is she still here? Can I see her?”
“No,” the eldest girl said. “She left that day. It seemed like she came plummeting down like the avalanche but disappeared just as fast.”
Ti heard the desperation in her own voice. “Where can I find her?”
The matron and her daughters looked at each other as if expecting someone else to answer. Finally, the matron said, “No one knows.”
Ti made an effort to hold onto hope. “There were other women who might have come here many months ago. Ling Lu and her mother. They come from a village on the other side of the mountain.”
The matron and her daughters stared at Ti with blank expressions.
Ti pulled on her last thread of hope. “Some people think that Ling Lu and her mother were going to an island. I think Frayka followed them to that island.”
“There are many islands,” the matron said. “Do you know which one?”
Ti steadied herself in case they might laugh. “Seahorse Island.”
“Oh, I know that one!” said the eldest daughter.
Everyone turned and stared at her.
“Don’t tell lies to Empress,” the matron said. Looking at Ti, the matron said, “That’s nothing more than legend.”
“That’s not true!” the eldest daughter said. “Grandmother told me. When she was still alive and she taught me to sail. She once took me out far enough to see it. We were far away, and you could hardly see it on the horizon, but I saw the mountain of fire that the legends talk about.”
“I told you to hush!” the matron said.
“No,” Ti said. She shivered with exhilaration. “Let her speak.”
The eldest daughter looked hesitantly from her mother to Empress Ti. “That’s all I know. Grandmother told me it’s Seahorse Island, and I believe her.”
“Be wary, Empress,” the matron said. “This child has never made any such claim before. I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true!” the eldest daughter insisted.
The youngest girl said, “Then why didn’t you ever talk about it before? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Grandmother told me to keep it secret,” the eldest daughter said. She paused as if she had already said too much. “Grandmother said there might come a day when no woman would be safe here. She told me someone in the family needed to keep the secret of Seahorse Island. She said if that day ever comes, I can take all of us there in secret and that we should sail in the middle of the night so no one can see where we go.”
The matron groaned in disbelief.
“Do you still remember how to get there?” Ti said.
“It happened so many years ago,” the eldest daughter said. “But I remember.”
“Then we’ll stay here for the rest of the day and get a good night’s sleep,” Ti said. “And before the sun rises, we will set sail for Seahorse Island. Can you do that?”
The eldest sat up with pride and smiled. “Yes, Empress. It would be my privilege.”
CHAPTER 27
Frayka struggled to sleep that night. While GranGran and TeaTree were lost in heavy slumber, Frayka stared into the darkness.
She worried about Njall, still mortified that he thought she’d been unfaithful to him.
She worried about the unknown monster that roamed the Wulong Province stealing infants.
Most of all, she worried about how to convince the dragon god of water to help her—and then how to make amends between those dragon gods and the Northlander gods so offended by them.
When Dagby fussed in the middle of the night, Frayka found relief in feeding the child and rocking her back to sleep.
At least one of us is getting some rest.
When GranGran awoke at dawn and prepared for the day, Frayka asked her to watch over Dagby.
GranGran agreed readily. “There is something you should know about your husband.”
Frayka crossed her arms and stared at the ground. “He has no faith in me.”
“No,” GranGran said. “Someone lied to him.”
Frayka looked up. “What?”
“You spent much of the past year with the dragon god Wendill, did you not?”
Still angry at Njall’s accusations, Frayka took offense without thinking. “Nothing untoward happened between me and Wendill!”
GranGran maintained a calm demeanor. “I understand. But did he not receive a message from me?”
Frayka remembered. “Yes! But we knew you couldn’t have s
ent it. It was addressed to the Dragon God of Earth, and Wendill said you would never call him by his title. It said I should leave at once for Zangcheen, and we agreed you would never expect someone who had just given birth to make that kind of journey.”
“And did Wendill not send a message to me?”
“Yes. He sent a message telling you about Dagby’s birth.”
GranGran gazed steadily at Frayka. “The message I received said you had become Wendill’s wife and given birth to a child covered in scales and bearing long claws.”
Frayka felt stunned and angry. She then remembered what GranGran said when she saw Dagby for the first time—how GranGran had commented on the mortality of Frayka’s child. “You said Empress Ti told you I had a dragon child. But Wendill sent no such message. I know it!”
“As do I,” GranGran said. “His message to me was intercepted, as was mine to him.”
“Intercepted?” Frayka said. “But why?”
“To change those messages. To trick us into believing lies.”
Frayka’s anger grew. “Do you think someone told those lies to Njall?”
“Most likely,” GranGran said. “It might be the same person who intercepted and changed our messages. Or it might be someone who saw the false message and believed it.”
Frayka didn’t know whether to scream or cry. “But Njall believed it! How could he?”
“He might have been confronted with evidence too convincing to ignore.” GranGran said. “After all, he spent many months away from us. He didn’t know we were searching for him.” GranGran paused. “Or that you chose to give up the search.”
Frayka’s sadness shifted to guilt, but her anger stayed intact. Glaring at GranGran, she said, “When you came to this island, you gave up on him, too.”
GranGran offered a cheerless smile. “Yes. I did.”
The admission made Frayka feel no better. If anything, she felt more confused than ever by her mixed feelings about Njall. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“Would you have listened?”
Frayka took GranGran’s point. When hot-headed, Frayka often needed a day or an evening to regain her senses and listen to logic.
Standing here and talking about it won’t solve anything.
“I’ll be back later,” Frayka said. She squatted to the floor and gave her sleeping child a kiss on the forehead on her way out the door.
Frayka knew where to go. Long ago, the women of Seahorse Island hauled forged bars of iron by ship to their shores and used them to build a cage. They placed that cage at a strategic point at the base of the fiery mountain. Anyone unfamiliar with the fact that its rivers of fire followed paths that steered them clear of the village and into the sea would assume a constant danger.
But when Frayka trekked to that cage and saw Njall sitting hunched over with his head on his knees, she saw he felt no such fear.
She sat down next to the bars that separated them. “Hello.”
He ignored her.
“There were messages sent between Wendill and GranGran,” Frayka said. “Someone intercepted and changed those messages. One of those messages claimed I’d married Wendill and had his child. It claimed Dagby has scales and claws like a dragon.” She scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. She looks a bit like me and a bit like you.”
Njall wrapped his arms across his head as if trying to block out the sound of Frayka’s voice.
Frayka raised her voice to make sure he could hear it. “When you looked at our child, you saw the truth. She’s yours!”
Njall let his arms fall away and lifted his head. He glared at her. “You gave up on me. I never would do that to you.”
“Only after Dagby was born!” Frayka said. “She’s a baby. She needs protection. You don’t.”
Njall’s voice ached with pain and disappointment. “You came to this island and left me behind on the mainland. I would never leave you behind. I wouldn’t give up until I found you.”
“I told you we tried,” Frayka said. “All of us. Me. GranGran. TeaTree.”
“But you gave up. I would never give up.”
Although Njall’s pain wrenched Frayka’s heart, she looked at him with fresh eyes. She gained a new understanding about her husband and about herself. “That’s the difference between you and me,” Frayka said. “You don’t know when to give up. I do.”
Njall shook his head in dismay. Tears welled in his eyes.
“I gave up on you for more than one reason,” Frayka said. Despite her compassion for Njall, she felt no guilt. “I had an infant to protect. But I also have to find the dragon gods and make amends between them and the Northlander gods before it’s too late. The Northlander gods never told me how much time I have. If I take too long, they will destroy me and you and our child. They will kill our families and neighbors. They will end the life of every Northlander in this world.”
“I see.” Njall’s voice cracked. “You decided to sacrifice me.”
“Yes,” Frayka said. “I sacrificed you because it’s the only solution. If I ignored my responsibilities and tried to find you, you would die anyway because the Northlanders would kill you. I trusted you would fend for yourself.”
“And you’re proud of that.”
Frayka considered Njall’s statement. “It is the best choice I could make, and I made it.”
Njall swept his arms across his space of confinement. “And now you’ve locked me in a cage.”
“Men aren’t allowed on this island.”
Njall gave a bitter laugh. “And yet I see TeaTree.”
“It’s different for TeaTree,” Frayka said. “The women on this island don’t feel threatened by him.”
“And they feel threatened by me?”
“GranGran and TeaTree got here before I did. GranGran talked to them. She smoothed everything out for TeaTree to convince the women here to accept him.”
Njall looked away. “It must be nice to have someone to smooth things out for you.”
“I can do that,” Frayka said. “I’ll do it this morning.” She paused, wanting to make things better and not knowing how. “Njall, please. We’ve found each other again. Can’t we just be happy?”
Still looking away, Njall didn’t answer.
Frayka felt awash with anger and the pain inflicted by her husband’s words. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting like I’m a monster?”
Njall’s voice trembled. “You used to be my greatest friend. My closest ally. And now you’re not.”
“How can you say that?” Frayka stood and paced. “How can you make such a horrible accusation?”
Njall hesitated and then said, “Now I know you won’t do for me what I would do for you.”
Frayka faced the cage and yelled. “Because I’m not you, Njall! And you’re not me. We’re different people.” She wrapped her fingers around the bars. When she spoke, her voice cracked. “How can you be so hateful?”
“It’s not hate,” Njall said. “It’s hurt.”
Frayka clung to the bars and closed her eyes. “Whatever you call it, you’re hurting me. You don’t know what I’ve been through.”
Njall gave a disgusted laugh. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.”
“No, I don’t.”
Njall sniffed back tears. “I don’t mean to hurt you. I miss you.”
“You are hurting me.” Frayka opened her eyes. She struggled to hold back her anger and failed. “And I don’t see how you can miss me because I’m standing right here.”
When Njall looked into her eyes, she saw the pain in his.
“I want who you were before we were torn apart,” Njall said. “I want who we used to be.”
Frayka’s voice trembled. “I want that, too.”
“I love you so much,” Njall said. “I thought I’d lost you—I never want to lose you. I’m sorry.”
Frayka swallowed the lump in her throat. She rarely saw a need to apologize for any decision she made, but her husband mattered more to her th
an her pride. “I’m sorry, too.”
Frayka started at the sight of blue mist rising from the ground until it dawned on her that a portent prepared to overtake her. Feeling the need to anchor her body in the mortal world, she sank back to the ground. Frayka reached through the iron bars and said, “Hold onto my hand before the portents take me.”
* * *
Now surrounded by walls of blue mist, Frayka saw that she stood on an island the size of a small cottage. Warm air surrounded her like a blanket. A thin border of fire ringed her tiny island and sizzled every time the tide pushed against it.
“Please,” Frayka said. “Tell me why I’m here. I need to help my husband.”
The figure of a woman stepped out of the ocean and stood in the shallow tide. Her long, wet hair covered her face.
The woman doubled over as if someone had punched her.
In the distance, Frayka heard a baby’s cry and worried that Dagby needed her. Listening closer, Frayka realized she heard the cries of many infants.
She remembered the rumor about the babies that had gone missing in the Wulong Province.
Blood dripped onto the top of the woman’s head and streamed down her body.
The woman moaned in relief.
“I don’t understand,” Frayka said. “What am I seeing? What is happening?”
The woman looked up, her face still covered with hair wet with saltwater and blood. Seaweed noodles and broken shells clung to her hair. Strands parted enough for her eyes to peer through.
I know her.
Frayka recognized the eyes of a Far Eastern woman, although she couldn’t figure out who she was.
It’s not GranGran. It’s someone close to my age.
As the sound of crying babies increased, Frayka covered her ears with her hands. The cries weren’t the type of cries that meant the babies were hungry or tired. The cries were filled with pain and agony.
A cup materialized in the hands of the woman. Instead of tea, blood filled the cup to the rim.
Frayka watched in horror while the woman drank a few gulps, shoved up her sleeves, and then poured the rest of the blood onto her bare skin. The woman sighed as if liberated from a prison.
Frayka blinked and found herself back in the mortal world, now reaching through the cage that held Njall and clutching his hands.
