Dragon Rebellion

by M. Lynn

  They were deserters.

  The man pinned beneath Jian no longer moved so he jumped to his feet and ran for another, yelling back over his shoulder. “Go. Get out of here.”

  Fa scooped up Ru and ran to the back door, but Gen and Nainai didn’t follow. Gen jumped into the fight, using his cane as his only weapon.

  Jian retrieved a dao from the man he’d knocked unconscious, feeling like himself for the first time since the dragon flew him away from Kanyuan. He’d never wanted to be a fighter but had no other choice in life. Now, it was all he was.

  He coughed through the smoke and twisted, slicing the sharp edge of the dao through a thick-necked man. Gen fought alongside him, disarming his opponent with an unnatural skill and retrieving the weapon.

  They were outnumbered, but that had never mattered to Jian. He’d survived the mountain battle despite the enormous odds against them. He was still standing after the Kou attacked his camp. And Kanyuan… he shouldn’t have survived that one. But he had.

  His eyes flashed as they met General Yu’s.

  “Jian Li,” the general yelled, his entire body going rigid. “You’re supposed to be dead.” Shock colored his voice.

  “And you’re supposed to be pledged to the emperor.”

  Jian yanked his dao free of another man, letting him crumple to the ground before approaching the general. No, not general. He gave up that title the moment he walked away from the army. Just as Jian had.

  Yu’s lip curled and his eyes narrowed. “I should have known you fled after the battle. They all think you died a hero, but Jian Li is no hero.”

  “You’re right.” He stepped over a dead man. “I’m not a hero. I did not run, but I did not stay either.”

  Gen dispatched the last of Yu’s men and joined Jian.

  Yu held out his dao. “Go ahead. Try to kill me. I have nothing left.”

  Jian stepped closer as a cough wracked his body. His lungs cried out for air, but all they got was smoke. “These are good people, Yu. I should cut you down where you stand.”

  “Érzi.” Gen put a hand on his arm. Jian froze at the term. Son. “Let him go. Sometimes mercy is the greatest strength.”

  It was something Bo would have said. Still, Jian’s grip on his dao tightened.

  “The entire house is going to go up in flames.” Yu looked from Jian to Gen. “Do you have time to fight me?”

  The house… Hua.

  Yu walked backward toward the door, and Jian didn’t follow. He couldn’t. Not with the house burning around him.

  “Jian!” Gen gripped his shoulder. “Get to Hua.”

  Fear ripped through him. He’d left her in the loft while smoke rose toward the ceiling.

  There was no time for vendettas, not anymore. He ran to the ladder and climbed the rungs, covering his mouth with his arm as he pulled himself into the loft. A thick blanket of smoke cloaked the room, hiding Hua from view.

  He stumbled across the room, his shins slamming into the table next to the bed as his legs weakened. His lungs begged for air, but there was none to be found. As darkness crept along the edges of his vision, he saw her. Hua’s pale skin shone, a glow emanating from the inside out.

  His knees hit the wooden floor next to the bed, and as his head lolled forward onto the feather mattress, her eyes snapped open.

  3

  Hua

  Fire had a smell. Smoke and ashes. Burned bodies that could have passed for cooking meat over the stove.

  The scent invaded Hua’s every pore, sinking into her.

  Fire had a feel. Heat and peeling skin.

  It slithered along Hua’s arms, hitting her every nerve ending until her body buzzed with the energy.

  Destroy.

  The dragon’s voice thundered through her mind, reveling in the destruction fire caused. She’d never heard it as clearly as she had while she was asleep.

  Avenge.

  Avenge what?

  She inhaled, her body reveling in the smoke filling her lungs. A smile curved her lips, one that was not her own, one that yearned to see the flames. Hua tried to claw her way to the front of her mind, but she slammed into a wall time and time again.

  She’d spent weeks fighting this very battle, preventing the beast inside her from opening its eyes—her eyes. If she couldn’t gain control, she didn’t want the Nagi to have control either.

  But the smoke breathed new life into the dragon, infusing her with a strength she hadn’t yet encountered.

  Hua shrank further into the back of her mind until she hardly felt anything at all.

  When the dragon opened her eyes, there was nothing more she could do to stop it.

  Hua Minglan had lost her final battle.

  4

  The Nagi

  A Nagi had no name pronounceable to humans, nothing to speak of who they were. Instead, they took on the identity of those they possessed. The curious female’s hold on the Nagi lessened until she forced her eyes open.

  The Nagi became Hua Minglan. Her eyes searched the room, seeing through the smoke to the door in the floor.

  A man’s voice yelled up to her, calling for someone else. The Nagi sat up, gazing down at the unconscious man and searching Hua’s mind for a name. Jian. The army commander she’d wanted to save in the battle. It seemed he’d have been dead many times over if it wasn’t for her.

  She sighed. It wasn’t the Nagi’s nature to save men she should want to kill, but she owed it to Hua if they were to share the same body.

  Crawling from the bed, she pulled Jian’s body over her shoulder and stood, his weight nothing to the strength coursing through her veins. The Nagi descended the ladder, wishing she could transform and use her wings to travel instead. But if she were truly going to take her revenge on the people of Piao, she must become one of them, not the dragon they feared. At least, that was what she told herself when she tried to shift into a dragon and failed.

  Down below, flames covered every surface and an older man gripped the wall as he tried to stay on his feet. Relief washed over his face once he saw them, and he stumbled forward.

  “We need to get out of here. Let me take Jian.” The Nagi didn’t protest as the man she remembered as Hua’s father took Jian from her shoulders and started dragging him toward the door.

  A gray-haired woman ran to the Nagi. She gripped Hua’s shoulders—the Nagi’s shoulders—and warmth spread through her, coming from the girl trapped inside. “Come.” She pulled on Hua’s arm, but the Nagi yanked it back and pushed Hua’s nainai away.

  Turning to the flames licking up the wall, she reached out, needing to touch them, to feel their energy. The Nagi called to the dancing fire as her hand disappeared into the glow. It snaked up her arm, infusing its power into her.

  “Hua!” Nainai screamed. “We have to go.”

  The Nagi curled her fingers into her palm and stared at the unblemished skin. With one final glance at the flames, she followed Nainai into the sitting room where charred bodies were scattered along the floor. A battle took place here. The Nagi cocked her head. Interesting.

  The metallic scent of blood mixed with the smoke, making the Nagi feel at home.

  But it couldn’t last because they had to leave it behind. Destroying Piao and Koulland was more important than the draw of the flames. It was why she had returned generations after the Nagi disappeared from the empire.

  Out in the yard, Hua’s family huddled together. Her mother held Ru close to her chest and her father’s arms wound around them both. Jian knelt beside them, his body wracked with coughs. Nainai’s arm wrapped around the Nagi.

  “We’re all okay. We’re alive.”

  The Nagi only nodded as she turned back to look at the flames engulfing the Minglans’ home. A tinge of sadness entered her mind, a leftover feeling from the girl who once owned this body.

  “Hua.” Jian lifted his face to her. “You saved me. Again.”

  Pride filled her, and she lifted her chin, her voice coming out smooth and calm. “Yes, I
did. You seem to need that quite a lot.” She turned away, having no time for the weak.

  “Dear girl.” Nainai cupped her cheek. “It is good to see those eyes again.”

  She pushed the hand away as Ru ran to her. “You’re awake. I didn’t think they’d ever get you out of there.”

  “They didn’t get me out.” The Nagi scrunched her brow. “I got myself out.” Without another word, she walked away from them to avoid the tears pricking her eyes for the first time in her life.

  “Stop trying to make me feel guilty, girl.” She pressed a palm to the side of her head as foreign feelings of sadness swirled inside her. “This body doesn’t belong to you anymore.”

  Pain pounded at the Nagi’s temples, a fist hammering against the walls of her mind. “None of this is yours.”

  The girl’s words broke through the Nagi’s thoughts. “If you hurt them, I will kill you.”

  The Nagi growled. “I’d be careful if I were you. Your family is now at my mercy.” She slammed the wall back in place, cutting off her response.

  The smoke from the burning house obscured the stars above, but staring at the heavens was a fanciful pursuit. Nagi had no use for such practices, not when there were wrongs to right.

  She didn’t take her eyes from the flames as she stood apart from her host’s family, her family for the time being. Even if she wasn’t the true Hua, the Minglans were Nagi descendants, and that made them her people.

  The people she had come to avenge.

  Once upon a time Nagi protected Piao from their enemies, but that was before cruel rulers hunted their descendants, destroying any chance of their return.

  The emperor of Piao considered the Kou his greatest enemy.

  He was wrong.

  Ru’s little legs sprinted across the lawn. “Hua, it’s all gone, they destroyed everything.”

  Without understanding her actions, the Nagi kneeled in the dry grass and pulled Hua’s brother into her arms. “We’re going to be okay, Ru. I’ll make sure of it.” The Nagi didn’t need to wonder where that promise had come from. She would have to fight off Hua’s inane sympathies.

  A sob shook his body. “I didn’t think you’d ever return to us, and when you did, I didn’t think you’d wake.”

  The rest of the family joined them, forming a morose circle around them. Everything they had was gone, leaving them with only each other to hang on to.

  The Nagi released Ru and stood. “How long have I been here?”

  “Three weeks,” Jian answered.

  Three weeks. She stared at him, not sure what to make of it. She had battled Hua for control for twenty-one days after succeeding in the first step of her revenge. Destroying Kanyuan, a border town essential to both the Piao people and the Kou.

  All she’d had to do was light the match, and the people of Piao would burn their own country down.

  “Who were they?” Hua’s mama asked.

  “Deserters.” Her husband snorted in disgust. “On the run from the army.”

  She sniffled. “We can’t stay here.”

  He nodded. “The barn. At least for tonight. We will figure something else out in the morning.” His voice held no emotion, only resignation. Gen Minglan sounded like a broken man as he looked toward their house with smoke spiraling toward the sky.

  Jian wiped soot and blood from his face as he turned and led the way across the expansive sea of grass and up the dark hill. Exhaustion weighed them all down, but the Nagi felt more energy than she had in a long time.

  They reached the barn and Hua’s father stopped. “Hua, my girl.” He choked back emotion. “You’ve returned to us.” He pulled the Nagi into a hug, and she let him because of the girl inside her begging for his comfort.

  No matter what, she couldn’t reveal what she was, that she had stolen their daughter from them, their sister and granddaughter, but something inside the Nagi couldn’t fathom hurting this family. Something pulled at the back of her mind making her feel uncomfortable things for them. Warmth? Worry?

  She pushed that away and entered the barn, taking note of the hay bales along one wall and the empty horse stall as she tried to recall the horse’s name who should be there… Heima. Lost to the battle of Kanyuan.

  It was better that way. There was only room for one beast in this barn. Barking sounded at the door before a large dog barreled toward her, knocking her to the ground. It pinned the Nagi down and pulled its lips back into a snarl.

  “Chichi,” Ru chastised. “It’s Hua. Let her go.”

  The dog didn’t back down as he snapped his teeth.

  Enough of this. The Nagi pushed the dog from her, sending it slamming into the wall of the stall. Chichi whimpered as he got to his feet and hid behind Ru.

  The rest of the family only stared as the Nagi lifted a heavy hay bale to pull it to the ground. She ripped into it, ignoring the looks, as she spread the hay before lowering herself onto it and curling onto her side.

  The strength from the fire seeped out of the Nagi as she drifted back into the world of dreams where she would once again face off against the girl in her mind, knowing one thing.

  The Nagi had to win. Every night as she fought for control, she kept her mission in the forefront of her mind.

  And if the real Hua knew the Nagi’s mission, she might even understand.

  5

  Jian

  Sleep was hard to come by in the barn that night. Jian’s body ached from the fight, and pain wound through him with every breath he took, every cough. He almost hadn’t made it out.

  It seemed he was destined to die in flames.

  He sat with his knees bent and his back pressed against the door of the stall he’d cleaned out hours before—in what seemed like another life. For the Minglans, there would forever be two parts to their lives. Before they lost everything and after.

  Few of their belongings were stored in the barn. Old armor hung along the back wall with a couple of rusted daos and halberds. Horse tack draped over the stall wall, a hook holding it in place. Bales of hay took up half the limited floor space, placed there to keep them out of the elements.

  Tilting his head back, he rested it against the cracked wood. He needed water, they all did, but the pump for the well was on the other side of the house, and he had no more energy in his bones.

  How could Hua fall back asleep so easily? She’d been awake for less than an hour, only long enough to save him from the flames that would never leave him. No matter the enemy—General Altan, General Yu, the dragon—they all doused him in smoke and flame.

  When would it ever end?

  He’d joined the army during a time of peace, when all there was for a soldier to do was train or accept missions into foreign lands. When the war began, he jumped into it, ready to make a difference.

  But now… now he wasn’t sure what they were fighting. An enemy within Piao could do as much damage as the one across the border.

  Hua’s nainai slid down to sit beside him. “I envy that girl, able to turn her mind off on a night like this.”

  Jian nodded in agreement. He’d give anything to forget cutting his way through Yu’s scared men. They’d barely put up a fight. They weren’t warriors, only men who feared what they’d seen in Kanyuan. The truth was, Jian couldn’t fault them for running after that, for leaving the army behind.

  He studied Hua’s sleeping form, noticing how restless she appeared, so different from the three weeks she’d been unconscious.

  “Hua is back.” He whispered the words to himself, but her nainai’s lips tipped up.

  “Our girl has returned to us.”

  Maybe it was the shock of waking in the middle of the fire or seeing her childhood home crumble to the ground, but Hua hadn’t fallen into her parents’ arms. She hadn’t offered them any part of her. Jian couldn’t imagine what it was like for Gen and Fa after their last remaining daughter left to fight. They deserved some kind of reunion. Instead, what they got were ashes and pain.

  As if reading hi
s mind, Nainai rested a hand on his arm. “This family is strong, Jian.”

  He blew out a breath before sucking in another and half expected it to be filled with smoke. The fresh air was a balm to the rawness of his lungs. He didn’t even mind the musty smell of the barn.

  A soft patter sounded from outside. Jian got to his feet and walked to where Gen stood at the doorway looking toward their still smoldering house.

  “The rain will put out the flames.” Gen’s voice sounded distant.

  “Any sign of Yu?” Jian rested his arm on the door frame.

  Gen shook his head. “He’s long gone by now. A horse ran across the fields a bit ago, probably belonging to one of the men we…”

  He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. Jian had killed a lot of men in his life, but it never hurt any less.

  “No sign of the rest of them?”

  Gen sighed. “No. But those were quality beasts. If some of them got loose and they’re roaming the village, people will ask questions.” He rubbed his eyes. “This farm has been part of Zhouchang for many years.”

  “Gen, your home is gone, but you still have your land. You can rebuild.”

  He looked like he wanted to disagree but stayed quiet, his eyes once again focusing on the pounding rain turning the dirt outside the barn to mud.

  Chichi’s yip had Jian turning. The dog stood near Hua, a growl rumbling in his throat. She didn’t stir.

  “Chichi,” Ru called. “No. It’s Hua. We love her.”

  The dog didn’t listen. Nainai scooted toward Chichi on her knees and swatted his nose. “You’re going to wake her. Heaven knows we all wish we could be asleep right now.” She sat back and yanked the dog into her lap. His large frame collapsed onto her, and he quieted.

  Jian turned back to Gen. “I’m going to need to send a letter to the commander. Yu is probably not their only officer who broke rank and now terrorizes the countryside, stealing what they need.” They all knew what that meant. Commander Yang wouldn’t take an anonymous message seriously. Sending him a letter meant fixing Jian’s name to it and letting others know he still lived.