Dragon Rebellion

by M. Lynn

  Because as he left the Nagi behind, he surrendered Hua to the beast, losing faith that she’d return to him.

  And all he could do was march through the palace that was not his home, the place that once held so much pain for him, so much ridicule.

  Because it was time to prepare for war.

  30

  The Nagi

  The constant drip drove the Nagi insane. She didn’t know where the sound came from, but somewhere in that damp cell was her torment.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  When she first came into the world, the Nagi felt very much alone. She didn’t feel another Nagi’s presence until after she shifted for the first time.

  She hadn’t been able to control the emotions as they’d twisted with Hua’s own anger, her desperation. They’d amplified each other’s need for revenge, making Hua leave her home behind in search of it. Others saw her actions as protecting her father, but the Nagi knew it was more than that. She may not have been able to control Hua’s heart, but she saw into it.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Ripping herself from the cot, the Nagi slammed her shoulder into the wall, reveling in the pain snaking down her arm.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Too much information.

  Too many emotions.

  Hua’s Nainai had looked into the Nagi’s eyes like she truly saw her, her fears. The Nagi were not supposed to live on this earth. They came for a short time and then left, but only once they did what they had to do.

  Nainai Minglan saved a young boy who had a role to play. Small. Simple. Yet the act most likely had a profound impact on the future of the world.

  And the death of the emperor of Piao? What kind of impact would that have? If Jian spoke true, if Piao finally had an emperor that would protect the dragon blooded… what would it do to take that away?

  The Nagi gripped the sides of her head, knowing full well the action didn’t belong to her.

  “You are beginning to see.” Hua’s voice was weak inside her mind.

  “Why did you do it, Hua?” The Nagi’s breathing turned ragged. “Why did you try to sacrifice us for one man?”

  “My sister believed in him.”

  And that was enough for Hua? Nagi did not have families, but they were tied to their descendants. Grief washed over her for a sister she never knew. “Luna.”

  “The only thing that matters in this life is my family.” Hua assaulted the Nagi with thoughts of her parents, her nainai, Ru. The little boy’s eyes held a light that had not yet been snuffed out by the fear of his own blood and what others would do if they learned about it.

  “Ru is good.”

  A smile came unbidden to the Nagi’s face. Hua’s smile.

  “And yet, we are locked away in a cell.”

  “That is not their fault. You won’t beat them, Nagi. Do you want to know why?”

  The Nagi didn’t respond.

  Hua’s voice grew stronger. “Because they have more than vengeance to fight for.”

  “There is nothing more than vengeance.”

  “There is Piao.”

  31

  Jian

  There was little sleep in the palace as they waited for their scouts to return, for them to bring the news most already knew.

  Soon, a battle would come to Dasha.

  Throughout the night, citizens from the farming settlements surrounding the city arrived, and Bo forced his advisors to open the barracks to them. Some took advantage of the hospitality. Others stayed in shops and homes opened to them by the Dasha citizens.

  The trickle of people entering the gates had slowed by the time Hua and Luca’s parents arrived at the palace. Once again, Bo defied his advisors by letting them enter.

  Jian approached the Minglans and bowed, shame racing through him. He’d been unable to keep his promise to them, unable to protect Hua. Gen Minglan stared at him for a long moment before pulling him into a hug.

  Luca’s baba, Liu Kai, put a hand on Jian’s shoulder as he pulled back from Gen. They were the only two men who’d ever acted fatherly to him, something he’d forever be grateful for. He turned to Fa Minglan next and bowed but stumbled back as Song threw herself into his arms with a sob.

  Bo approached slowly, cautiously, and Jian took note of the guilt in his gaze. Their eldest daughter died in his charge, and now their youngest sat in a cell beneath his palace.

  Gen and Fa shared a look as Bo bowed to them.

  Jian couldn’t remember the last time Bo bowed to anyone. As the emperor, it was his right to stand tall. But now, he didn’t rise.

  No one spoke through the somber moment until a sharp bark drew their attention to Chichi who came running through the entryway, slamming into Bo and knocking him from his feet.

  “Chichi.” Gen jumped forward, horror flashing across his face. He reached for the dog but stopped at the sight before him.

  Bo hugged Chichi to him, burying his face in the dog’s brindled fur. His back shook with silent sobs.

  Jian had seen many men break before. He’d seen them fall in battle and mourn their comrades. But this moment didn’t belong to Bo alone. They’d both failed the Minglans.

  Jian flicked a hand to a guard. “Show these people to their rooms in the guest wing.”

  Fa gripped his arm as she passed. Gen crouched down in front of Bo, giving him an assessing look. “Your Majesty, we do not blame you.” With that, he stood and followed his wife, leaving Jian alone with his brother.

  Bo looked up at him, still not releasing Chichi. “I’m going to lose my empire. People are dead, Jian, and more will soon follow.”

  Reaching down, Jian gripped Bo’s arm in a way his advisors would protest. He pulled his brother to his feet. “Your empire looks to you for strength.”

  With that, he turned and started toward the back hallway, expecting Bo to follow. Guards nodded to him as he passed. There would be no sleep for them tonight.

  Chichi ran at his heels, constant commotion in a seemingly lifeless palace. All joy had been sucked from these rooms the moment they learned of the impending battle.

  Jian entered the study he knew so well to find Luca standing at the large window, his hands clasped behind his back. “There was a time, Jian, I thought I’d never fight beside you again.” His words cut off when Bo slipped in.

  “We all thought you were dead, Jian.” Bo slumped onto the bench near the window. “Yet, you were carried from battle by a dragon, the same dragon that now sits a floor below us. This world wasn’t supposed to exist, not anymore.”

  Luca took a seat beside Bo, bumping their shoulders together. “Has there been any word from the scouts?”

  Bo nodded. “I was searching for Jian when your parents arrived. General Altan will reach the city tomorrow morning.”

  Jian pushed out a breath and leaned against the window frame. “I can’t be your commander, Bo.”

  Bo’s dark brows drew together. “We’ve been over this. You will always be my commander. Commander Yang will not be here in time with his army. We are all we have, all Piao has. The time for your useless self-sacrifice is gone. In one day, we will ride to face a Kou army with only the palace guards at our backs. I will not let you relinquish your duty.”

  The word duty stuck in Jian’s mind, a path he couldn’t break free of. His eyes met Luca’s and then Bo’s. They were the only people he’d ever relied on until her, until Hua.

  “We cannot let the Kou reach the city.” He straightened, the title of commander settling on his shoulder like a mantle calling to him. He’d made mistakes, many of his men died, but Piao remained under Bo’s control, and he’d protect it until his last breath. “The northern fields.”

  Luca’s eyes sparked, and his lips curved up. “You want to make a stand.”

  “It’s the only way.” He paced in front of the window. “If they breach the gate, this city will fall.” To the north of Piao lay winter wheat fi
elds. They had yet to be harvested, reaching waist high in their golden sway.

  Bo rubbed his jaw. “We have almost a hundred guards in the city. How will they fare against a thousand Kou?”

  “Guards aren’t all we have.” Since the Kou first started encroaching on the borders, Piao had been calling every man from their fields on a voluntary basis.

  “Most of the young, fighting men are already with the army.” Luca’s voice held a note of understanding.

  Jian nodded. “The young men, yes.” He thought of Gen Minglan and Liu Kai, both generals in the civil wars of Piao in the past, both men who’d ride to face any threat. How many other seasoned warriors lived in the capitol Piao?

  Bo didn’t speak for a long moment. He sat completely still as if behind his veil in the temple, deep in thought.

  Jian stopped pacing and stared at his brother. “You are the emperor.”

  “Yes, but I have named you the leader in this. In matters of war, you make the decisions.”

  Jian didn’t hesitate. “We will ask the people of Dasha to protect their city. And they will come for you, brother.”

  Bo shook his head. “They will come for Piao.”

  Bo had never believed anyone should show loyalty to him only because of the palace he called home. Instead, the people’s loyalty, their honor should rest with the empire. No matter who they called emperor, no matter who they fought for, this was their home.

  They’d suffered through the cruel reign of Bo’s father, and still Piao was theirs. Now, Bo wished to lead the Wei dynasty in a new direction, one full of honor, one full of hope. They had to defeat their enemies to build a better world than the one they’d inherited.

  General Altan could not be allowed to ascend the steps of the palace.

  Lost in his own thoughts, Jian wandered toward the desk at the far end of the room. Battle plans rolled through his head, bolstering his weary mind. His gaze settled on a painting hanging along the wall. As kids, it was one of the reasons Jian and Bo loved this room so much. They’d called it the dragon room in hushed whispers as they stared into the all-seeing eyes depicted in the painting. A serpent-like dragon appeared from behind beautiful puffy white clouds, looking as if it belonged among them.

  Since the last known dragons had walked the earth, their image had become nothing more than a symbol belonging to the emperors, used to show their strength, their power, their role in the protection of Piao.

  It was why the dragon blooded were feared and hunted. Their connection to the flying serpents threatened the power of the emperor.

  “We used to spend hours staring at this.” Bo’s voice was low, and Jian didn’t know when he’d stepped up beside him.

  “Your father tried to keep us away.”

  Bo laughed. “He tried to keep us from a lot of things. It wasn’t until he decided I had the mandate to rule that he told me why.”

  Jian stayed silent, waiting for his brother to explain.

  “This dragon was painted to represent truth.”

  Jian recalled some lessons he’d been forced into at the temple when he was a kid. When a dragon appeared from the clouds, it meant that the truth was difficult to see.

  Bo went on. “My father’s greatest enemy was truth.”

  There were different kinds of truths. The facts that were obvious and the ones a person avoided. What were they avoiding? The Kou would descend on Dasha, and there was a very good chance every one of them would die trying to protect the city.

  So, what weren’t they seeing?

  “We can’t do this alone, Jian.” Bo looked from Jian to Luca who’d joined them at Jian’s other side. The three of them had always been together in everything. They were a team, but they weren’t enough.

  “What are you saying?”

  “The truth we are refusing to see is the dragon herself.”

  Jian took a step back. “No.”

  “Jian.” Bo sighed.

  Luca shook his head. “You can’t possibly be considering this, Bo.” At least Luca was on his side.

  Bo rubbed a hand across his tired eyes. “I am trying to keep an enemy from destroying my empire.”

  “So, you would make a deal with another enemy?”

  Jian flinched at Luca’s use of the word.

  Bo turned to Luca. “We are out of options.”

  “She tried to kill you.”

  “No,” Jian cut in. “The Nagi tried to kill him. Not Hua. She is still in there, and she’d rather die than let the Nagi destroy anyone else. We cannot let her free.”

  “And what if the Kou take the palace?” Bo let out an exasperated grunt. “We let a Nagi fall into their hands? That wouldn’t only destroy Piao, it could doom the rest of the world.” His eyes met Jian’s. “And what of Hua? She would be trapped here with Batukhan Altan.”

  Jian tore his eyes from his brother and the painting as pain churned through him. He couldn’t decipher the fear from the never-ending sadness. He closed his eyes, thinking of every conversation he’d had with the Nagi. He didn’t trust it. He never would.

  But what if this was the mission? What if the Nagi was supposed to help Piao before she left? Was this the way to save Hua?

  And was it worth risking Piao to save her?

  Yes.

  He hated his traitorous answer, but it was all he had.

  “I will bring her to you.” He walked to the door, ignoring Bo’s words of thanks and Luca’s protests. In that moment, he’d chosen a path, and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back from it.

  He just hoped he hadn’t chosen wrong.

  32

  Hua

  Hua didn’t know how the Nagi could stay awake for so long. She’d waited for her opportunity to wrest control back, but it hadn’t come. So, she slept, fading to the back of the Nagi’s mind, storing up her strength.

  The last few days had been one nightmare after another, but it was the secrets that stayed with her. She’d listened to Nainai’s conversation with the Nagi, absorbing every truth that now made so much sense. The cryptic conversations they’d had about dragons before Hua left her home now held more meaning. The tattoo her Nainai drew on her arm before the ink faded into her skin. Had the tattoo held meaning other than a confirmation that Hua held a Nagi inside her? Was her nainai only testing her?

  How had Nainai never told her family?

  And who was this mysterious boy she’d had to rescue?

  Each Nagi had a mission to complete before they could leave, a mission that would help Piao work toward peace.

  She refused to believe her Nagi’s true mission was to kill the emperor, the first emperor in many years who deserved the trust of his people. The persecution of the blooded was in the past now. If Bo Xu Wei died, would his successor be as merciful?

  Bo had no children and had not named an heir. Hua pictured Prince Dequan with his hard eyes and unforgiving countenance. Would he become emperor?

  These thoughts plagued her sleep, but the fear was not for her. She’d already given up on ever having her life back, on surviving these trials. She worried for Piao, for her family. For Jian.

  The clanging of the cell bars jolted her awake as the Nagi slid her eyes open to find Jian standing with four guards at his back. His jaw tightened as he looked at her.

  Hua’s heart ached, wanting to reach for him, to take the pain from his eyes.

  “Hello, Commander.” The Nagi cocked her head.

  Light flickered at Jian’s back from the torch one of the guards carried. It cast him in an ethereal glow. “The emperor would like to speak with you.”

  “I’m right here.”

  His eyes hardened. “The emperor does not come down here. You will come with us.”

  “Don’t hurt them, please,” Hua whispered in her mind. Without shifting, the Nagi was still stronger than any man, but not five.

  The Nagi ignored Hua and got to her feet. “I will speak with your emperor.”

  Jian turned and marched down the dark hall. Two guards gr
abbed the Nagi’s arms and pushed her forward while the other two followed.

  They made their way up through the sleeping palace, past closed doors behind which people rested for battle.

  A sharp yip drew the Nagi’s attention and Hua cried out, the sound not leaving her lips. “Chichi.”

  The dog ran toward them, barking vigorously. He growled when he reached them, his back arching as he stared at her.

  One of the guards kicked him away, and Hua wanted to lunge at him, to tell him to leave her dog alone.

  If Chichi was in the palace, Ru must have been too. Did he come with Nainai? And where were her parents? Were they all under the same roof?

  The guard kicked the dog again.

  Jian stormed back to them, shoving the guard. “Do not touch this dog.”

  “Dogs don’t belong in the palace,” the guard grumbled.

  Jian pointed down at Chichi. “This one does.” He jabbed his finger toward a closed door. “Bring the Nagi in there.” As they passed, the Nagi’s eyes tracked Jian, and Hua watched him bend down to lift the too-large dog into his arms. Chichi quieted like he trusted Jian.

  Jian followed them into a library and set Chichi down as he nudged the door shut with his foot. Shelves of ancient-looking books lined one wall, stretching all the way to a desk at the other end.

  A guard shoved the Nagi forward, and Hua focused on the two men standing near the window. Luca refused to meet the Nagi’s gaze, but the emperor lifted his chin and stared.

  “Guards,” the emperor said. “You may wait outside the door.”

  “Bo.” Luca shut up when the emperor sent him a scathing look.

  “Out.”

  The guards looked at the Nagi, indecision warring in their eyes.

  Jian nodded to them. “We will call for you if we have a need.”

  That seemed to reassure them, and they left their emperor with the Nagi—who wanted to kill him—and only two men for protection.

  The emperor’s gaze softened, and he gestured to the bench seat near the window. “Please, sit down.”