by Resa Nelson
Contamination? Does that mean the potion she made for Mandulane is unpredictable?
Questioned more, the alchemist explained that Mandulane’s memories would become fluid.
He won’t remember properly. He’ll get his memories mixed up. The boy will never be able to depend on anything he thinks he remembers as the truth.
Prompted by Frandulane’s wife to continue, the alchemist drew a circle on the floor around Mandulane and put the potion she’d created to work.
But when the magic was done and the alchemist picked up the silver marriage ring as payment, she pushed it back across the counter toward Frandulane’s wife. When questioned, the alchemist said, “The Scalding taint is all over it. I always heard stories about them, but never met one until now.”
“I’m no Scalding. I just married one.”
The alchemist nodded toward Mandulane, who now skipped around the room. “But that’s the son of one.”
“You’re mistaken. No one in this room has a speck of Scalding blood.”
The revelation startled Pingzi Po.
Mandulane isn’t a Scalding? Frandulane isn’t his father?
She thought back to the first part of the portent where Frandulane had sent his wife and son to the tavern.
He knows. Frandulane understands that he has no son.
A new realization struck Pingzi.
Frandulane has abandoned his family. His wife may have left him, but he has abandoned them nonetheless.
She watched as the alchemist advised Frandulane’s wife to get rid of the ring.
Instead of putting the ring back on her finger, she put it inside the pouch hanging from her belt.
Pingzi followed Mandulane and his mother out of the apothecary, but once outside, the sun blinded her. She squinted against its sharp rays.
When able to see again, Pingzi saw that she no longer stood in the Midlander port city. Instead, she found herself in a small village. She recognized Mandulane. He walked out of the surrounding woods carrying a basket full of mushrooms.
This is Mandulane’s future. I’m seeing what will become of him.
Pingzi followed Mandulane to a small and simple house made of wattle and daub. She recognized his mother cleaning up the hearth and speaking to a man seated nearby. “The merchant said the brigands set the whole village ablaze. Whole families were trapped inside their homes. They went up in flames.” Looking up to see Mandulane enter, she said, “A boy had gone to gather mushrooms, just like Mandulane, and he had the good sense to stay hidden when he saw his village on fire.”
“Where?” Mandulane said. His face strained with worry.
“Nothing to worry about, son,” the man said. “The merchant brought word about a village on the opposite side of the Midlands. Brigands are a danger there, but they know better than to come to these parts.”
Pingzi detected affection between the three of them.
That must be Mandulane’s new father. His mother will remarry. He’ll have a good home, safe from Frandulane and the rest of the Scaldings.
But then Mandulane stepped away from the doorway, allowing a brilliant stream of light to enter.
That light blinded Pingzi again.
When she could see clearly again, Mandulane had aged a few years more.
Pingzi noticed the absence of his mother and father, seemingly replaced by a woman who bore a resemblance to Mandulane’s step-father. That woman berated Mandulane, and he flinched at her words.
Images of the future flew around Pingzi in a whirlwind. As if trapped inside a tower, one hundred windows surrounded her. Every window showed a different image. Mandulane’s mother dying in childbirth. His step-father ill and dying of hunger. A young girl drowned in a river. The berating woman beaten to death.
As Pingzi looked at the images higher above her head, she felt chilled by them.
A fish with its tail cleaved in two. Men in brown robes. Dozens of blue tents.
A map of the world with the Midlands and the Southlands smeared in blood.
Arrows pointing toward the Northlands, the Far East, and the rumored Land of Vines across the great western ocean.
With hands covered in blood, an older Mandulane smiled.
The map of the world came alive. A great wave climbed out of the sea and flooded all of the Northlands, Midlands, and Southlands.
A massive fire burned all of the Far East to cinders.
In countries Pingzi didn’t recognize, great winds destroyed cities made of stone, and the earth ripped apart to swallow jungles and deserts.
Kikita, the dragon goddess of air, whispered in Pingzi’s ear. “It’s not too late.”
A gentle wind wrapped around Pingzi like a cocoon and blurred the images swirling around her.
With a jolt, Pingzi Po came awake where she’d nestled beneath the ship’s deck. She sat up too fast, pausing at the sense of feeling dizzy.
Skallagrim had fallen into a chasm of hate and anger, but he would hurt no one other than Frandulane.
Frandulane had promised to let himself be quelled. Once Pingzi took him to the Far East, she could protect and help him.
But no one had stopped to think how the actions of these two men would affect their children.
And Pingzi’s portent had made it clear to her that the world would fall into the deepest danger it had ever known if Mandulane failed to get the guidance he needed to navigate his life.
I understand now. I must do more than quell Skallagrim or Frandulane.
We must find Mandulane before the hardships of life wear his resolve away and turn him into the most dangerous demon of all.
CHAPTER 19
Pingzi raced up to the ship’s deck to discover it had already docked in a Midlander port city. Lively throngs of people crowded the dock, lined with Midlander and Southlander ships. Now that the long winter had ended and the seas were safe to sail again, merchants and other travelers were anxious to return to the Northlands.
Only a few crew members busied themselves. Frandulane didn’t appear to be among them.
Pingzi approached a crewman. “Where is Frandulane?”
“He left.”
Pingzi’s stomach knotted with anxiety. “Left? Where? For how long? When will he come back?”
The crewman shrugged and returned to his work.
Considering him useless, Pingzi stood by the rail in an effort to search the crowded dock. The ship’s rail stood high enough above the dock for her to get a good look, but she saw no sign of Frandulane anywhere. As a typical Northlander, he would stand a head above the Midlanders and Southlanders. His bright yellow hair would stand out.
Did he lie to me? Did he never have any intention of letting me quell him?
Frantic, Pingzi shouted his name several times.
Several people on the dock looked up at her but then went about their business.
Finally, she heard someone call “Madam Po!” Pingzi scanned the people on the dock and soon smiled at the sight of a friend weaving through the crowd toward the ship.
* * *
Later that day, Skallagrim stood at the railing of a ship as it glided into the harbor of the Midlander port city and prepared to dock.
As expected, winter’s end brought crowds of people to the port city, weary of the cold and ready for the promise of spring.
But he saw Frandulane nowhere among them.
Once docked, Skallagrim left the ship and headed directly to the Red Bird tavern, where all dragonslayers met to discuss their routes for the upcoming dragon season before heading for the Northlands. Most would keep their regular routes in the Northlands, although some preferred to trade routes for the sake of variety. A few would spend the season in the Midlands and Southlands to take care of any dragons that straggled behind the ones now swimming across the sea to the Northlands.
Maybe they’ve seen Frandulane.
Part of any dragonslayer’s training involved learning to pay attention to one’s surroundings and to all details. Noticing details—a peculiar scent in
the wind or the rustling sound of dry leaves—could alert the presence of a dragon before it attacked. Noticing details could save a dragonslayer’s life.
And now any details noticed by Skallagrim’s fellow dragonslayers could help him bring about the end of his brother’s life.
Entering the Red Bird tavern, Skallagrim warmed at the sight of a dozen dragonslayers sitting at a table in a corner near the door. He beamed when he approached them. His happiness turned to confusion when he saw Madam Po sitting next to Bruni, Skallagrim’s fellow Northlander and former training partner.
When he spoke, Skallagrim heard the stiffness in his voice. “Madam Po. How did you get here?”
“The same way as you,” Madam Po said in an even voice.
Bruni leaned back in her chair and gestured to an empty chair. “Take a seat.”
Even though Skallagrim detected no unusual scent in the air nor heard any rustling leaves, he felt as on edge as if he were in the woods and suspected a dragon hiding nearby. But he trusted his fellow dragonslayers and sat down among them.
“They know what happened in Gott,” Madam Po said.
Surprised to notice a mug of mead waiting for him on the table, Skallagrim took a grateful swig. “Good. They should know.”
“Why did you come here?” Bruni said.
Skallagrim took another gulp of mead. “Thought I’d trade routes. Figured I’d stay in the Midlands this year.”
Most dragonslayers were Southlanders. One of them spoke up. “No one wants to trade with you.”
Startled, Skallagrim looked around the table at his companions. “Whenever one of us wants to trade, we always come up with a solution. That’s how it’s always been.”
“Not this time,” Bruni said.
Astonished, Skallagrim said, “Why not?”
The dragonslayers stayed silent.
Madam Po said, “It is clear your first priority is no longer slaying dragons. You now spend your best thought and energy on searching for Frandulane. If you find him, you will kill him.”
Skallagrim brushed off her words. “I’m a dragonslayer. I know my responsibilities.”
“You may know them,” the Southlander said. “But you now ignore them.”
Angry and impatient, Skallagrim said, “I do no such thing.”
“Then why are you here?” Bruni said. “All your life you’ve insisted on having a route in the Northlands. All of a sudden, you insist on trading routes so you can spend the year in the Midlands where it’s unlikely you’ll have much to do.”
Skallagrim pointed at Bruni as if proving his point. “Your husband is taking care of my children. I want the Midlands this year so I can see my children.”
“Your children belong with you,” Bruni said. “Seph has them upstairs. You need to take them back.”
“But I can’t.” Skallagrim cut himself short before he said too much.
I can’t search for Frandulane with my children in tow. They would slow me down. And when I find Frandulane, he might hurt them.
One thing at a time. First, I will kill Frandulane. Then I will take my children back.
Madam Po leaned forward and rested her crossed arms on the table. “Why can’t you take your children back?”
Skallagrim scrambled to think of a good response. “Maybe there’s little threat of dragons here in the Midlands. But don’t I still need to travel a route? Don’t I still need to be prepared to fight? How can I do that with a young boy and an infant girl?”
“You don’t have to travel a route,” the Southlander said. “There is a house here in the city reserved for dragonslayers. You can take your children there and live with them. All you need do is be ready to go to a village that sends a request for help. There are plenty of people here who can watch over your children should that happen.”
The way the dragonslayers and Madam Po stared at him made Skallagrim feel as if they’d backed him into a corner. He wracked his brain for a believable argument. “I can’t leave my children with other people.”
“But they’re with Seph now,” Bruni said. “And just moments ago you said you wanted to leave them with Seph because you’d be working your route. If you’re so willing to leave your children with my husband, why aren’t you willing to let other people watch over them if you should get called away?”
Skallagrim shrugged. “It’s not the same. I’ve known you and Sept most of my life. I know I can trust you.”
“You can trust the people we recommend,” Bruni said. “Be honest, Skallagrim. All you want is to stay here in the Midlands because you’re looking for Frandulane.”
Skallagrim’s self-righteous anger overtook his goal to outwit his fellow dragonslayers. “He’s dangerous! When I find Frandulane, I’ll be protecting the Midlands, the Southlands, and the Northlands from him.”
Madam Po spoke in a soft voice. “You speak of murder.”
Skallagrim drained his mug of mead. “It’s not murder. It’s like slaying a dragon. I’ll be ridding the world of a dangerous animal that threatens people’s lives.”
“Dragonslayers,” Bruni said, “don’t commit murder. We’re here to help people, not kill them.”
“Frandulane isn’t a mortal.” Skallagrim pursed his face in disgust. “He’s become a monster.” He gave a pointed look to Madam Po. “Frandulane is a demon, not a man.”
“As are you, Skallagrim,” Madam Po said.
Insulted, Skallagrim insisted, “I am no demon!”
“You are one that refuses to be quelled,” Madam Po said. “As is Frandulane.”
Skallagrim hesitated, startled by the telling expression on Madam Po’s face. “You faced Frandulane. You tried to quell him.”
Skallagrim thought back to the wind that had blown his brother and the brigands across the boardwalk in Gott and into its harbor. He remembered his efforts to find Frandulane and the fact that both his brother and Madam Po had vanished at the same time.
In that instant, he realized how Frandulane had escaped. “You’re the one who took him from Gott.”
“Not taken.” Madam Po straightened her clothing. “I saw him climb onto a ship. I convinced him to return to the Far East with me. He agreed to be quelled.”
“Then, where is he?”
“I believe he lied to me. I had a portent. When I returned to this mortal realm, I could not find Frandulane.”
Skallagrim jumped to his feet in a frenzy. “You let him go?”
The corner of Madam Po’s mouth twitched. “He tricked me.”
Skallagrim jabbed a finger at Madam Po but spoke to the dragonslayers. “That’s why I must kill Frandulane! He’s dangerous!”
The dragonslayers stayed quiet and stared at Skallagrim.
Discomforted by their stares, Skallagrim sank back into his chair. “Who will trade their route with me?”
The dragonslayers exchanged knowing glances.
The Southlander cleared his throat. “The rest of us are in agreement. No one will trade with you. We expect you to return to the Northlands with us and travel your regular route.”
The back of Skallagrim’s throat knotted in disappointment and shame.
How can they abandon me when I need them the most?
“I refuse.” Skallagrim crossed his arms.
The Southlander said, “Then you can be a dragonslayer no more.”
“What?” Skallagrim looked at Bruni, expecting her to protest.
“You know the rules,” Bruni said. “Dragonslayers have no right to kill people unless they have no choice.”
“But I have no choice! Frandulane must be stopped.”
Bruni’s voice became firmer by the moment. “You do have a choice. We have given it to you: either come to the Northlands with us or hand over your sword right now.”
“My sword?” Like all dragonslayers, Skallagrim felt as if his sword were part of his body. He couldn’t imagine being without it.
The Southlander said, “We already reminded you that you know the rules. Dragonslayers mus
t kill dragons, not people. Only dragonslayers may have dragonslayer swords. If you insist on pursuing Frandulane, then you must give your sword to us at once.”
“Forget Frandulane,” Bruni said to Skallagrim. “If he is as wicked as you believe, someone is bound to kill him sooner or later. But it won’t be you who kills him.”
Skallagrim stared at the people that he’d always considered to be his friends. He’d known Madam Po and Bruni for most of his life. Some of the other dragonslayers sitting at the table were ones with whom he’d trained over the years. Others he’d met in the Southlands during the winter route.
But now they seemed like enemies.
How can I fail to avenge the murders of my wife and father? How could I be such a coward? How would I live with myself?
When Skallagrim thought of his wife Lumara, his heart sank in despair. She’d brightened his life and made it feel easy. She’d been his ally and confidant. Since her death, the world had become a dismal and hopeless place.
Without another word, Skallagrim removed his sheathed sword and placed it on the table. Before anyone could utter a word, he turned his back and walked out of the tavern, certain he would never see Madam Po or any of his dragonslayer friends again.
CHAPTER 20
As Skallagrim left the tavern, the dragonslayers sat in stunned silence.
When the door slammed shut behind him, Bruni jumped to her feet and shouted, “Skallagrim!”
Pingzi Po placed a tender hand on Bruni’s arm. “Let him go. Skallagrim proves he is a demon that will not be quelled.”
Tearful, Bruni sank back in her seat. “That’s not the Skallagrim I know.”
“Murder changes people,” Pingzi said.
The dragonslayers stared at her in silence.
“Do not be afraid because you know my husband was murdered by a Scalding,” Pingzi said. “I can help you understand Skallagrim.”
One of the Southlanders leaned forward. “Please do.”
Pingzi nodded her consent. “It is a shocking thing at first. When someone you love is murdered, you do not want to believe it. You think it might be a dream.”
The dragonslayers stared at her with intensity.
I must help them understand. I’m going to need them.
