by M. Lynn
“Sir, may I speak freely?”
“Please do.”
“History is also full of emperors seeking out those with dragon blood and murdering them. My brother’s own father, Emperor Anxu Xu Wei, lured them to the dragon festival for their own executions. If you were the Nagi and you came back into a world like that, would your loyalty be to the people who had shown no loyalty to you?”
He put his spectacles back on and nodded as if he were deep in thought. “Nagi… that’s what she calls them as well.”
“Who?”
A proud grin spread across his face. “Jian, if we are to have dragons of old back in our midst, don’t you think it’s time we make use of our seers once again?”
“Commander,” a soft voice called through the house. “You sent for me?” Qara froze in the doorway, her wide eyes gleaming. “Jian,” she whispered before rushing forward, stopping only feet from him.
“You two know each other?” Commander Yang asked.
Jian couldn’t take his eyes from the tear tracking down her face. “We did.”
“I can’t believe this.” She wiped away the tear. “I heard stories of the dragon carrying you away, yet here you sit, alive.”
She was the reason he’d come to Kanyuan, but he couldn’t find the words he needed to say to her, the questions he needed to ask. Not when she looked at him with a broken heart in her eyes. They were no longer in love, but he realized right then, they’d always love each other. If anyone could help him, it was Qara.
He cleared his throat, a signal to her that they’d speak in private. She nodded. “Would you like some tea? I was just about to bring some to the commander.”
Commander Yang shook his head. “She’s determined to make sure I eat, drink, and sleep, despite my constant reminders that she is not a servant.”
She smiled. “But I am a healer, and your health is of the utmost importance.” She left them staring after her.
“What has been happening here?” Jian had been desperate for news of Altan and the Kou army, but Luca only had bits of information for him.
“We have had no sightings of the Kou since the battle.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Like us, it destroyed a large part of their force. I don’t believe they are gone, but I am using this time to allow my men to rest, heal, and build up our defenses. We’ve started on a new wall to the north, but it will be a futile pursuit if the Kou attack before it is complete.”
“It seems you also have a problem with deserters, sir.” Jian relayed the story of General Yu and his men setting fire to the Minglan home.
Commander Yang bent forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he ran a hand through his short-cropped, dark hair. “We have too many fronts on which to fight, Jian. Our beleaguered forces cannot win this war if we are forced to fight the Kou, search for a dragon, and chase our own men.”
“General Yu is still roaming the countryside, but his men are no longer a danger to Piao. Gen Minglan and I took care of them.”
“That poor family. They lost their first daughter to the attack on Dasha and their second to the Kou. Then their home…”
“They’re being taken care of. I hope you can spare Luca for the time being.”
“Of course.” He rubbed his face. “I’m pleased he found you. What of his men?”
Jian’s heart jumped into his throat as he thought of Hua killing Piao soldiers in their sleep, of the vacant look in her eyes when she faced him. But he couldn’t tell the commander what she’d done. “Dead, sir. I’m sorry.”
“Was it Yu?”
Jian nodded. When he lifted his head, he found Qara watching him from the doorway, a tarnished silver tray balancing on her hands. Did she know the truth? Had she seen it?
She approached them and set the tray on the small wooden table in front of the chairs. With slow, delicate movements, she poured tea into three painted porcelain cups.
Jian lifted a cup, examining the chips along the rim that told a story of struggle and strife. Staying with the Minglans had been different, almost idyllic. Their farm prospered, and the family lived far from war and poverty.
Ru and Chichi spent their days running across rolling green hills, their laughter ringing out behind them.
And all of that was gone, just another casualty in this war.
His appetite for tea disappearing, Jian set the cup down.
Commander Yang sipped his before lowering it. “So, Jian Li, you have not returned only to bring me news of deserters. Are you here to lend your considerable knowledge to the cause?”
Jian wished it was as simple as that. That he wanted to become a soldier again and throw himself back into a life he knew well. Instead, he had to find a girl he couldn’t stop fearing for, one with a beast controlling her every action.
And he had to do it before she did something she couldn’t take back. “I’m afraid not, sir. Luca told me of Qara’s presence in your camp, and I must speak with her.”
The hope in the commander’s eyes faded. “We are fighting for the very existence of our empire, Jian.”
“I promise you, Commander, I am fighting too.”
Commander Yang shared a look with Qara Jian couldn’t decipher. The older man steepled his fingers, tapping them against his chin. “I will soon be sending a unit of men into the mountains.”
“Across the border?” Jian sat up straighter. “Into Koulland?”
Commander Yang nodded. “We know where Batukhan Altan is.”
That single phrase flipped Jian’s entire world upside down. He’d spent so much of the past few years wanting nothing more than to get his revenge on the man he thought killed Qara, her own brother. Every action he’d made as the commander was to that end.
Yes, he wanted to defeat the Kou and prevent them from taking his brother’s empire, but it was more than that to him. It was personal.
“Where?” The single word came out hoarse.
“There is a Kou village.” The commander nodded to Qara.
Qara sat beside Jian and folded his hand in both of hers. “I saw it. A village we call Xiǎo Miányáng.”
“Little sheep,” he whispered.
She nodded. “Don’t let the name deceive you. This village is the most heavily fortified in all of Koulland, but one wouldn’t know that at first glance. It looks like a sleeping village, a little sheep, when in fact, it is quite deadly. The greatest Kou warriors have been trained in the yards of Xiǎo Miányáng.”
“How do you expect to get to him?” He shifted his gaze from Qara to the commander.
“Qara has great knowledge of the defenses. She has seen her brother there and the new measures they’ve put into place. There is a way in. We’re going to get him, Jian. If we capture Batukhan Altan, this war will be over.” He stood, towering over Jian, and put a hand on his shoulder. “I would like you to lead this mission.”
It was the kind of mission he’d dreamed about, one that would bring him everything he’d ever thought he wanted. Glory. Revenge. Redemption.
But as he pictured Altan’s smirking face, the desire to chase him, to fill the chasm inside Jian’s chest with a thirst for a single man’s blood, no longer controlled him.
“Sir…” He pushed out a breath. He had a mission, one that meant a lot more to him than Batukhan Altan ever had. Protect the girl who’d taken him into a world where lore was more than a story, and the people on his side were more important than the ones standing across the battlefield.
Qara smiled with understanding in her eyes. Had she seen this decision coming? A choice between what he’d always wanted and what he needed? Who he needed.
“I am grateful for the opportunity you’ve laid before me, Commander.” Jian met the commander’s gaze. “But my battle no longer lies with General Altan.”
“All of our battles are with that man.”
Jian stood, bowing his head in deference to the great man before him. “My presence on the mission will not decide its success or failure.”
Commander Yang sighed. “Well, I can’t say I expected you to accept the offer. I merely hoped. How long do you plan to stay in camp?”
“Only the night. I must leave at first light.”
“I see. If you have need of anything, you only have to ask.”
Realizing he was being dismissed, Jian looked to Qara, trying to communicate his need to speak with her.
Bowing once more to the commander, Jian turned toward the door.
Qara led him out. “Come with me.”
They barely spoke as they walked side by side back into the city of tents, winding around groups of soldiers rolling dice and drinking wine.
Qara stopped outside a tent that looked no different from any other and pushed him in.
Jian stumbled through the opening and found Chen and Yan sitting on piles of furs that served as beds.
They both jumped to their feet as he entered.
“It’s the seer,” Chen whispered, garnering an elbow from Yan.
“Don’t be a fool, Chen.” Zhao entered the tent behind them, his large frame making the already small space more crowded.
Chen smoothed out his blanket and patted his bed. “You can have a seat, Commander.”
Jian grunted as he sat. “I told you not to call me that.”
“Then what are we to call you.”
“Jian.”
Chen’s eyes widened as they met Yan’s. “J-jian? We couldn’t possibly—”
“You’re being a fool.” Zhao gestured for Qara to sit and remained standing. Chen and Yan both returned to their furs, their eyes darting from Jian to Qara.
Qara nodded at each of the men. “Jian, Zhao Shi has been chosen for the mission into Koulland.” Something about those words comforted Jian. After training the man for months, he trusted Zhao.
“Congratulations.”
Zhao only grunted.
Chen leaned forward. “Enough with the news of this war. Tell us about Hua. Where is she? Is she really the dragon?”
Jian sighed as he surveyed the surrounding men. “It is true that she lives.”
Qara put a hand on his arm. “You can trust them, Jian. You need to.”
He’d never get used to the eerie way in which Qara spoke now, like she just knew things. He supposed she did. That was what it meant to be a seer.
And he trusted her with his life, but did he trust her with Hua’s?
He lowered his voice so those outside the tent couldn’t overhear. “During the battle of Kanyuan, Hua shifted into a dragon to save us.” They already knew that part.
“And then burned the entire city.” Yan shivered. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over the horrors we witnessed. She burned children, Jian. Children!”
Jian closed his eyes for a brief moment as the smell of charred flesh wafted up his nose, like the memory latched onto every one of his senses. “That wasn’t Hua.”
“But you just said—”
“The Nagi… the dragon has gained control of her.”
No one spoke for a long moment until Zhao’s voice filled the tent. “What can we do?”
“Keep fighting the Kou. I cannot search for Hua with a contingent of men at my back. It has to be me and me alone.” He didn’t know how he was so certain what she needed, but he knew it in his bones. “She has fled from me, from her family. But I refuse to believe she is gone. Hua is still in there somewhere, and I’m going to bring her back.”
“For Piao,” Chen whispered.
Zhao shook his head. “For all of us. Hua Minglan is the best of us. She always has been.”
Jian couldn’t refute the words. Even when Hua portrayed herself as a man named Huan, he’d seen something in the soldier, a warrior’s spirit, an irreplaceable strength. She refused to be broken. They’d bonded over their shared need for revenge, but it became so much more than that.
He respected her.
Qara took his hand in hers. “I must speak with Jian alone.”
The other men didn’t protest her obvious dismissal from their own tent. Instead, they filed out with nods of acknowledgement.
Jian focused on the feel of Qara’s hand in his, the warmth where their skin touched. There’d been a time he’d have given anything to feel that again. Now, all he wanted was to see Hua’s eyes blaze in defiance as she refused to back down from his harsh words.
He wanted to feel impact reverberating up his arm as their daos clashed together in the sparring ring.
He pulled his hand free of Qara’s. He didn’t deserve her comfort when Hua was trapped in her own mind.
“You care about her a great deal.” Qara’s voice was sad.
“I…” What could he say to that? “I’m sorry.”
She smiled sadly. “Don’t be, Jian. You were one of the great loves of my life, but I have always known I was not your future. When I told you the dragon needed you, I did not yet know what it meant. Do you love her?”
How could he? For most of their time together, he thought Hua was nothing more than a pain-in-the-butt soldier. They barely knew each other, yet he was drawn to her in a way he couldn’t explain. He’d spent weeks sitting beside her bed in the Minglan home watching her face for any kind of sign she’d come back to him. “I don’t know.” It was the only thing in any of this that made sense to him.
A tear tracked down Qara’s cheek. “She needs someone to care enough to bring her back.”
“You believe she’s still in there?”
Qara’s watery gaze met his. “I don’t think she is, I know it. Hua is a fighter, Jian. She holds a strength few possess. And you were right to find me. I know where she has gone.”
“Tell me, please.”
She wiped a thumb under her eye. “There is much we don’t know about the Nagi. They’ve always been a mystery. But there is a place high up in the mountains in Koulland, a monastery. Legend says the monks have kept histories of the Nagi that have never been seen in Piao.”
“So, this thing that has stolen Hua’s body wants a history lesson?”
She shook her head. “I do not know why she has gone there. My visions don’t contain an explanation. But you must leave immediately. The longer Hua is trapped in her own mind, the harder it will be for her to come back.”
Jian shot to his feet. “Now. I’ll leave now.” As tired as he was, he couldn’t afford to wait until morning.
She stood to face him. “Ask Chen to gather some supplies for the journey. It is a three-week ride across dangerous mountain passes. I will find some ink and a quill to draw you a map.” She moved to the door, but Jian put a hand on her arm to stop her.
“Qara?”
She turned to face him, and he crushed her to his chest like he’d done so many times before. “Thank you.”
“I hope you save her, Jian.”
12
Hua
Lóng Bǎolěi. The dragon fortress sat nestled in the Shan Mountains beyond the border separating Piao from Koulland. Its domed roofs rose up seemingly from the rock itself, glittering gold beacons in the morning sun.
Hua couldn’t take her eyes from the sight of the monastery before her. A chill had lived in her bones since reaching Koulland. She’d spent so long wanting to fight the Kou and never imagined doing so would bring her such a distance.
Her breath curled in front of her face as she took in the high stone walls. Two red double doors stood closed against intruders.
“How do you know this is where we need to be?” she asked the Nagi in her mind.
The Nagi spoke her answers aloud. If anyone watched the lone Piaoan girl from the tiny circular windows, they’d think she talked to herself. “Do you ever tire of that question?”
“No.” Hua wished she could hug her arms across her body to protect herself from the cold. She wanted to pull the furs tighter around herself. But her arms didn’t move. They were no longer hers and words were all she had. “We traveled weeks and crossed onto enemy lands to reach this place no one has heard of. I deserve an explanation.”
> The Nagi clicked her tongue as she gripped Heima’s mane to keep her at her side. “You humans have odd thoughts about what you deserve.” She brushed hair behind one red-tipped frozen ear. Snow crunched underneath her boots as they made their way to a stone path that didn’t look like it had been walked on since the last snow fell.
“Please.”
The Nagi sighed. “There is someone here we must see.”
“I gathered that, but how do you know? I didn’t even know there was a monastery hidden in the mountains.”
“I sensed him.”
“Sensed?” A fear Hua couldn’t explain stole the next words from her lips. “How did we not know of this place?”
“I do not pretend to know how your limited mind works, Hua. Now, be quiet. I need my mind clear of your insipid thoughts.” A wall slammed up in her head, and Hua jerked backward, hammering against it to no avail.
She froze when a groan shook the ground and the giant red doors opened, revealing a dark hallway, untouched by the morning light.
Hua watched a small boy run toward them, his robes billowing around his legs. Long auburn hair was tied back in a top-knot, revealing soft features.
He couldn’t have been much older than Ru. He stopped in front of her, his forest green eyes scanning her from head to toe. “I have been sent to find out what you want.” His high voice reminded Hua so much of her younger brother.
The Nagi’s brow creased. “And they send a child?” She shook her head. “No matter. Take me to your master.”
“I have no master.” His eyes narrowed with a stubborn pride that would have made Hua laugh under different circumstances.
A deeper voice interrupted their conversation. “I wondered when you would come to me.” An ancient man walked through the snow with no shoes on his feet. His eyes blazed red when they landed on the Nagi, and Hua shrank back into her cage.
