The Dragonslayer's Heart

by Resa Nelson

  TeaTree stepped up to the man and examined him as if he were a piece of meat. “He appears to be fit and strong. He should make a good champion for you.” The boy turned toward Pingzi with a shy smile. “It’s too bad we’re not in Daneland, because you’d fight my master yourself. I bet you’d win!”

  Pingzi switched to speaking Northlander. “No fight in Far East.” She pointed toward the royal complex, where the merchant would be taken to the Hall of Justice. “Your master sees emperor. Emperor decides punishment.”

  TeaTree’s face screwed up in puzzlement. “Emperor?”

  There are no emperors in other countries. There’s no word for it in Northlander or any other language. How do I explain?

  Pingzi made another attempt. “Emperor is leader of Far East.”

  “The whole country?” TeaTree puzzled out this new information. “And he’s the one who decides how the law works instead of having people fight their own battles so the gods can show who’s right and who’s wrong?”

  “Yes!” Pingzi said, delighted at the boy’s quick mind.

  TeaTree looked in the direction of the royal complex. “Then what’s going to happen to my master? He promised he won’t hurt me again. We need to sell all this fabric. And then we need to find a place to eat supper and another place to bed down for the night.” TeaTree’s brow crinkled with worry. “My father used to be a merchant, but I can’t travel with him anymore. He’s sick and can’t take care of me. The master is the only one who takes care of me now.”

  Hsu Mao piped up. “I doubt someone such as yourself has the time to help this boy. We both know he’s on his own now. If there’s a ship waiting for him at the border, I can escort him there.”

  Pingzi knew better than to trust a handsome man. “While your offer is kind, I don’t know you and neither does this boy.”

  “I can protect him,” Hsu Mao said.

  “I’ve already protected him,” Pingzi said. “And you’re dismissed.” She waved one hand as if shooing him away.

  His jaw sagged for a moment as if taken aback, but Hsu Mao quickly regained his composure. With a slight bow, he said, “As you wish, Mistress Pingzi.” He turned and walked away.

  TeaTree watched Hsu Mao depart. “Are you sure you don’t want to fight against my master?”

  “No one fight master.”

  The color drained from TeaTree’s young face. “Then what’s going to happen to me? Will I have to see the emperor, too?”

  “No,” Pingzi said. “You have ship?”

  “Not really. My master booked us passage on a ship full of cattle.” TeaTree wrinkled his nose. “They stink.”

  That means he has no ship waiting for him.

  For a moment, Pingzi thought about Hsu Mao and wondered if he had room in his home for a Midlander boy. She also reminded herself that she knew nothing of the man or what might happen to TeaTree once she lost sight of him.

  “You like dragonslayer?” Pingzi said.

  Wonder filled TeaTree. “You know a dragonslayer?”

  Pingzi nodded. “Benzel of the Wolf.”

  TeaTree became so excited that he jumped up and down. “Everyone knows that story! Benzel of the Wolf! Berserkers destroyed his village, and he’s the only one who lived. Then he walked to the next village, but the berserkers had destroyed it, too. All he found was a little baby girl, and he took her with him to another village. He spent his whole life looking for those berserkers so he could kill them and protect the whole world from them!”

  Pingzi always found it fascinating to hear strangers tell the story she knew so well. Every time she heard it, she learned exaggerations that had been added to it.

  TeaTree became more excited by the moment. “Some people say he became a dragonslayer and went to the Southlands to train people how to kill dragons. But he disappeared and no one’s seen him since.” TeaTree lowered his voice. “They say he finally met a dragon who ate him in a single gulp.”

  Pingzi couldn’t help but laugh. “No! Benzel of the Wolf—alive. You meet him.”

  TeaTree trembled with joy. “Meet him? Me?”

  “Live with him. With me.”

  TeaTree frowned as if she’d asked him to solve a difficult problem. “Sorry?”

  “You need home. We have home. Live with us.”

  “But my master.” TeaTree’s voice trailed off into silence.

  Pingzi shook her head. “Live no more.”

  TeaTree stared at her for a long moment before speaking. “You’re saying the emperor will kill my master? That’s going to be his punishment for hitting me?” TeaTree’s eyes became fearful again. “Isn’t that a little harsh?”

  Once again, Pingzi chided herself for having failed to keep up her knowledge of the Northlander language.

  How do I tell him the merchant will die not because he whipped a boy but because he insulted royalty? How do I tell him that our laws are far stricter than any he’s ever known? And that the punishments are often cruel and unyielding?

  Even if I can make TeaTree understand, why would he want to stay here in the Far East? No boy should be alone in a country he doesn’t understand, especially not this one. He could commit a crime without knowing it and end up being executed.

  Pingzi changed the subject to avoid answering his question. “You have family in Midlands?”

  TeaTree responded in a matter-of-fact way, as if he answered the question so often that he thought nothing of it. “No. Mother died when I was born. Father taught me how to merchant and let me travel with him until he had a bad accident and got hurt. Too hurt to take care of me. I lived with aunts until my master agreed to take me as an apprentice.” TeaTree glanced back at the cart and the piles of fabric on it. “My master is demanding, but I like the fabrics.”

  His longing glance at the fabric and the new lilt in his voice told Pingzi something new.

  He’s a flowery boy. He likes the things that girls like.

  All the things that girls like.

  More than ever, she knew he needed protecting. Far Easterners had no patience for flowery boys.

  But Pingzi also knew that anyone protected under the wing of royalty would be safe at all times. It meant she needed to keep the boy close while he grew up. Once TeaTree became a man, she would make it clear throughout the city of Zangcheen, the Wulong Province, and the entire Far East that he stood under her protection and that anyone who tried to harm him would be breaking the Law of Protection under the House of Po.

  But for now, she needed to take the boy home where he’d be under the additional protection of Benzel.

  Before Pingzi could say another word, the air around her began to shimmer.

  A portent! Not now—I need to protect TeaTree!

  Pale blue walls of sparkling light surrounded Pingzi like sheets of rain. The light cut her off from TeaTree and the city in which they stood.

  When she tried to call out to TeaTree, a burst of wind stifled her voice.

  Pingzi worried that TeaTree wouldn’t understand what was happening. He wouldn’t know the portent separated Pingzi from her body, which would collapse but stay behind in the mortal plane while the unexpected portent took her mind and essence elsewhere.

  The pale blue walls swirled around Pingzi and closed in around her. They spun so fast they made her dizzy. She worked at keeping her balance when the swirling walls pressed against Pingzi and swept her up and away from the city of Zangcheen.

  Pingzi felt as if she were tumbling head over heels—it felt like somersaulting down a hill. Finally, the swirling walls stopped her momentum and held her still. When the walls melted away, Pingzi found herself in a rocky landscape where steam and sprays of molten fire spewed from the ground. With a quick glance, she saw the rocky landscape formed a mountain on a small island. In the distance below, she saw a small village that appeared deserted.

  The ground stirred, and the shape of a gigantic lizard emerged from it. While its scales matched the color of the rocky mountain, its eyes glowed as bright and y
ellow as flame.

  Pingzi recognized the Imperial Dragon at once. She bowed. “My goddess Fiera.”

  “We meet again, Demon Queller.” The Imperial Dragon shifted into the shape of a beautiful woman, who extended her hand. “Come with me, Mistress Pingzi of the House of Po. We have work to do.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Many years ago, Pingzi had met Fiera, the Goddess of Fire, when she lived in the shape of the Imperial Dragon. Pingzi knew from experience that she could trust the goddess.

  Without hesitation, Pingzi accepted Fiera’s outstretched hand.

  Pingzi felt no fear when the world around her turned as black as a clouded night. But moments later when that blackness dissipated to reveal a realm she’d never seen before, Pingzi felt awkward.

  They stood in a busy marketplace. Hundreds of grand stone buildings fanned out before Pingzi, and she noticed that they surrounded the marketplace like spokes on a wheel. Down one of the spoke-like avenues, one building gleamed like silver.

  A few men in black cloaks walked through the marketplace toward the avenue leading toward the silver building.

  Pingzi started at the sight, because their bodies were made of stone, wood, and earth. Still clasping Fiera’s hand, Pingzi tightened her grip.

  Fiera wrenched her hand free and waved at the strange men. “You there! Where is the All-Father?”

  The men paused and stared. One of them said, “You don’t belong here.”

  “I have business with your gods.” Fiera hissed, and fire flicked from her mouth.

  Another man counseled his peers. “Looks like a dragon god to me. I say we keep moving.”

  “Fine,” Fiera said. She brushed away a few black ashes that had landed at the corners of her mouth. “We’ll follow you.” She gave them a quick once-over. “I suppose you’re headed toward the hall of the dead. I believe that’s where the All-Father keeps quarters.”

  One of the men growled. “There’s no place for your kind here. Go back to your mortals and their Far East.”

  Fiera clucked as if scolding hens for laying too few eggs. “Every god and goddess have the right to walk in this realm. If you fail to understand the ways of your own gods, I’m sure the All-Father can set you straight.”

  The men argued with each other for so long that Pingzi lost her fear of them. She eased a step closer and stared openly at them. The way the pieces of each man floated in place fascinated her.

  One of the men noticed and pointed her out to his peers. “That one’s up to no good. I say we go home. If they follow, it’s the problem of the gods, not ours.”

  After nodding in agreement, the dead men continued their march onto an avenue bordered with tall and wide stone buildings that towered as high as canyon walls. They walked until they arrived at a stone building. Its wide marble steps led to a large brass door, into which designs of dragons and men had been forged. Tall urns lined the exterior walls on either side of the door.

  One dead man opened the door. It revealed a grand foyer of walls decorated with swords, daggers, and axes hung in starburst patterns. Beyond the foyer, crowds of men laughed, ate, and sang in a massive dining hall.

  Each of the dead men that Pingzi and Fiera had followed went to a stone urn, climbed onto its edge, and then removed every piece of his body, feet first. When only his arms and torso remained, each man leaned toward the center of his urn and tumbled inside.

  The open doorway glittered and the dead men materialized, now looking alive and well. One pointed down the avenue. “You’ll find the All-Father in the silver building. This hall is strictly for the dead.” He turned and walked through the foyer toward the dining hall, followed by his friends.

  Fiera clucked again. “It’s been too long since I was here. I remember now.” She trooped down the avenue toward the silver building.

  Pingzi hurried to keep up.

  Within a few blocks, they arrived at the silver building. Its marble steps led to its carved-wood door, which stood open. Bright light revealed a long narrow hall. Its floor, ceiling, and walls were all made of silver.

  Pingzi followed Fiera inside the foyer. A great winding staircase curved high alongside the wall. A raven perched on the railing and called out when it saw the women enter.

  “Follow me,” Fiera said. She walked down the long hallway. When the silver floor and ceiling ended, dark wood replaced them. But the polished walls continued, and they reflected the dragon goddess and the demon queller.

  A dimly lit room stood at the end of the hallway. Pingzi trailed Fiera to the open doorway of that chamber.

  The small room contained a fire blazing inside a large black urn. A man sat on a simple wooden chair next to a squat round table. He wore a cloak and a wide-brimmed hat cocked to one side so that it covered one eye. He examined a pile of small stones on the table, each of which had a unique carved symbol. He gestured for the women to enter the room.

  When they did, the door slammed shut behind them.

  “Fiera,” the man said, still examining the stones.

  “All-Father,” Fiera said.

  “I wasn’t expecting you.” The All-Father sat back and stared at Pingzi with a single blazing blue eye as clear as ice. “Much less that you’d bring a mortal with you.”

  The door burst open, and a tall and muscular man stormed inside. His long blond hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his bright blue eyes held rage. Sparks as bright and blue as his eyes hovered around him like a cape. When he spoke, his voice echoed like thunder. “Get out, dragon goddess!”

  Pingzi stepped closer to Fiera and reminded herself of the goddess’s great and mighty power. Pingzi knew the dragon gods of the Far East had powers derived from air, earth, fire, or water. Although her knowledge of the Northlander gods paled by comparison, she’d learned what little Benzel knew about them. The All-Father oversaw all the Northlander gods, whose powers were wider and more varied than the dragon gods.

  She suspected this one to be associated with lightning bolts and thunder from the way he looked and acted. Benzel called him Thor.

  Thor faced Fiera with an accusing look. “You hide a mortal who failed to keep his promise to me!”

  Fiera snorted and sat on the edge of the table on which the All-Father arranged his flat stones.

  The All-Father gave her a pointed stare with his single eye.

  Fiera pretended not to notice and held her ground. “I did no such thing! If mortals want to use alchemists to strike bargains with you or your brethren, it has nothing to do with me.”

  Benzel. They’re talking about Benzel.

  Pingzi held still and kept quiet, hoping Thor would assume she knew nothing.

  Benzel had never confided in Pingzi about his child, but he’d told her about his life before the day they met on Tower Island. Benzel told Pingzi how he met his wife late in his life. He talked about how she’d become pregnant and the heartbreak of her death during childbirth. Although Benzel didn’t spell out exactly what happened, he alluded to his alchemist friend and how they’d arrived on Tower Island a short time before Pingzi found him.

  I remember the alchemist holding an infant. That infant must have been Benzel’s son.

  Pingzi also remembered how Benzel treated the student who hailed from Tower Island years later. How Benzel beamed and glowed in the presence of that student.

  I think Skallagrim is Benzel’s son.

  But why is Fiera talking about a bargain struck between mortals and gods?

  With a start, Pingzi saw the All-Father staring at her.

  He returned his attention to the stones on the tabletop. The All-Father placed each one face-down so the carvings were hidden. “The runes can advise us.”

  “The runes?” Thor stared at him in disbelief. He pointed at Fiera. “This dragon goddess knows the mortal who promised his first-born child to me.”

  Pingzi nearly fell over in surprise.

  Skallagrim! How could Benzel promise to give Skallagrim to Thor?

  Any why?

/>   Before she could help it, Pingzi released a gasp.

  Thor turned his attention to her like a cat noticing the presence of a mouse. He peered at Pingzi with narrow eyes and leaned in toward her. “And look at the mortal. Did you bring her as some sort of peace offering?” He sniffed at Pingzi and then wrinkled his nose in distaste. “She’s stale and uninteresting. I have no use for her.”

  Fiera examined her nails as if they were far more interesting than anything or anyone else in the room. “The mortal is a demon queller. And she has portents. She is arguably the most interesting mortal in her world.”

  Mortified, Pingzi worried that Thor would change his mind and snap her up as payment for Benzel’s bargain with him all those years ago. She whispered, “Fiera…”

  Thor chuckled. “The mortal thinks I have use for a demon queller.”

  “She could help you with Loki,” the All-Father said.

  “Loki is annoying, not dangerous,” Thor said. “I need no help.” He aimed a half-glance at Pingzi. “Why would anyone think I need help from a mortal? It’s insulting.”

  Fiera now straightened out her clothing, still refusing the common courtesy of acknowledging Thor’s presence. “This mortal could be the key to solving your problem.”

  “What problem might that be?” the All-Father said.

  Fiera stopped fussing with her clothes and looked directly into the All-Father’s single eye. “Your desire to destroy the entire world.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Fiera’s words scared Pingzi.

  If the All-Father wants to destroy the entire world, why does Fiera think I’m the key to stopping him?

  The All-Father laughed loud and long. “Fiera,” he said, “I’ve always liked you. You have the heart of a Northlander god.”

  “Change your mind,” Fiera said. “Let the mortals live.”

  Thor stepped toward her. Every step he took rumbled like thunder. “Like I said before: get out. It’s none of your business what we do.” He reached as if to take her by the arm in an effort to escort her to the door.