Chapter Twenty-two
Neona peered inside the open gate of the monastery. The courtyard was empty. The soothing sound of chanting male voices drifted from the small temple in the center. A stone wall topped with clay shingles ran along all four sides of the square-shaped compound. A line of one-story buildings ran along the wall to the right. Private rooms, she figured, by the number of doors. To the left, there was a row of low tables with baskets containing rice and vegetables. A few chickens pecked at the ground.
Zoltan gave the chain by the gate a yank, and the bell overhead clanged. The chanting in the temple stopped.
Neona winced. The monks might think they were rude to interrupt.
Two monks, bald and dressed in dark red robes, emerged from the temple. They pressed their hands together and bowed.
Neona bowed back.
The eldest-looking monk descended the two steps and slid his feet into slides made of woven reeds. As he approached, his sharp gaze shifted between her and Zoltan. The chanting began once again in the temple.
“How may I help you?” he asked in Tibetan.
Neona bowed once again. “Venerable Father, I apologize for interrupting your meditations.”
The monk smiled gently. “We are usually asleep by now, but one of our younger brothers is gifted with the sight and has had a vision.” He glanced back, his smile fading. “A vision of evil approaching.”
Neona wondered if the younger monk had sensed that Lord Liao was coming. She gave Zoltan a worried glance, then realized he had no idea what was being said in Tibetan. She’d have to fill him in later.
The elderly monk tilted his head, studying her, then Zoltan. “I do not sense any evil in you.” His gaze returned to her. “But there is a great sadness in your heart.”
Was it that easy to see? Neona steeled her nerves so she wouldn’t cry. “Yes. I lost my twin sister three weeks ago. And she lost her son seven years ago. It was a terrible blow to her, and she never truly recovered. The boy was brought here . . .”
“Ah.” The monk nodded. “You speak of Norjee.”
His name was Norjee. In spite of her best effort, Neona’s eyes still filled with tears. “Is he all right? May I see him?”
“Of course.” The elderly monk gestured to the buildings on the right. “Come this way.” Halfway to the buildings, he paused to speak to the second monk, who still stood on the temple steps. “Will you bring us tea and the child Norjee?”
The second monk bowed, then descended the steps.
The first monk led them to the first door of the buildings, left his slides on the first step, then ascended a second step to open the door.
Neona removed her slippers. Zoltan, who was watching everything, kicked off his shoes and followed her inside.
It was a small room with a pallet rolled up and stashed against the wall next to a bookcase holding old scrolls. In the center was a short table. The monk sat cross-legged behind the table and motioned for them to join him.
After they sat, the monk took a deep breath. “Am I to understand that the boy’s mother did not wish to give him to our care?”
Neona shook her head. “It was our mother who brought the baby here.”
The monk glanced at Zoltan. “Is this man the boy’s father?”
“No.” Neona took Zoltan’s hand in hers. “He is my betrothed. When I told him I wanted to find my sister’s son and raise him as my own, he agreed to help me.”
The monk nodded approvingly.
The second monk entered with a tray containing a teapot and three small cups. He set the tray on the table. “I will bring the boy now.” He bowed and left.
The elderly monk poured three cups of tea. “I will not lie to you. Raising Norjee has been . . . a bit of a challenge.” He smiled. “There are only a dozen of us brothers here, and there are times when Norjee seems to have more energy than all of us put together.”
Neona winced inwardly. “Has he been difficult?”
The monk gave her a sympathetic look. “Please do not misunderstand. We love the boy. And he loves us. But we are a group of old men. We spend our days working our small rice field or tending the animals. In our free time, we like to read, meditate, or pray. These are not interesting pastimes for a boy like Norjee, who is so full of life.”
“I see.” Neona drank some tea.
The monk took a sip. “He has been both a challenge and a blessing. A challenge, for we have trouble convincing him to do his chores. But a blessing, for he sees the world as a wondrous place, as if every small event is a miracle to behold, and we have treasured those moments. He is a joy to us.” The monk sighed. “A joy we do not know how to control. Indeed, it seemed wrong to even attempt it. For he is a child with a special gift.”
Neona’s heart stilled. “What kind of gift?”
“He can communicate with the birds of the air.”
She inhaled sharply. He’d inherited Minerva’s gift! He’d be able to communicate with the dragons.
“Even when he was a baby, birds would come to his windowsill and chirp,” the monk continued. “It wasn’t until he was older and could talk to us that we understood what was happening. He was only three years old the first time he tried to run away. He claimed the birds were free to fly away, and he should be like them. We had a terrible time convincing him to stay here. When it was time to do his chores, he’d run off to spend the afternoon talking to a family of eagles. The mother eagle would ask him about his parents, and then he would return to question us. Why was he not living with a mother and father like the baby eagles?”
The door opened, and the second monk announced, “He’s not in his room. We cannot find him in the compound.”
Neona jumped to her feet. “He’s run away?”
“Do not worry.” The first monk stood slowly. “Norjee does this at least once a week. He will come back when he’s hungry.”
“He’s wandering the forest by himself?” Neona asked. “He’s only seven years old!”
Zoltan stood and whispered, “What’s wrong?”
“He’s in the forest somewhere,” she replied in English.
“He is never alone,” the monk assured her. “Not when he can talk to the birds. Come. We will call him.”
They hurried to the gate, and the monk rang the bell.
She looked around. Beyond the rice field, the woods appeared ominously dark. “I don’t like this. There are wolves, bears, and wildcats.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Zoltan told her.
The clanging of the bell brought more monks to the gate. When they learned Norjee was missing, they returned to the temple to pray.
After a few agonizing minutes, Neona spotted movement at the edge of the forest.
“That’s him.” Zoltan pointed.
Soon she could see him in the moonlight. A family of foxes was leading him back, while several small birds circled overhead. Every now and then, a bird would dive down to peck at a fox’s head, and the furry red creature would jump and hiss. The boy laughed as he skipped along beside them.
Neona turned to Zoltan. “Did you contact the foxes?”
He nodded, smiling.
The monk stepped forward. “Norjee, you left again without permission.”
The boy bowed. “I am sorry, Venerable Father. The birds were calling to me.” His gaze landed on Neona and Zoltan, and his eyes widened.
Neona blinked away tears. He looked so much like her sister. And he had her golden eyes.
The monk motioned to her. “She has come for you, Norjee.”
The boy approached her slowly, a hopeful look on his face. “Are you . . . ?”
It made her heart ache to disappoint him. “I’m your aunt. Your mother was my twin sister.”
His chin trembled. “Was?”
“She passed away.” A tear rolled down Neona’s cheek. “But she always loved you.”
“I-I always wondered.” Norjee sniffed. “The eagle mama told me I had to have a mother and father. She says I must have fallen out of the nest.”
Neona smiled through her tears. “I’m afraid you did. But I’d like to take you back.” She hunched down. “If you’ll accept me, I would be honored to be your mother.”
He ran toward her and threw his arms around her neck. She held him tight as more tears flowed. I’ll be a good mother to him, Minerva, I promise.
Norjee glanced up at Zoltan. “Will he be my papa?”
“Yes.” Neona brushed the boy’s long hair back from his brow. “He doesn’t know Tibetan, so it will be a while before you can talk to each other. But he can talk to animals. He’s the one who sent the foxes after you.”
Norjee’s eyes lit up and he grinned. “That’s great!”
Zoltan smiled and said in English, “I guess I’ve been accepted.” He leaned over and tousled the boy’s hair.
“We will have his belongings packed for you,” the monk said.
Neona stood. “I’m afraid it’s not safe for us to take him tonight. Our valley may come under attack soon.”
The monk nodded. “We know the evil ones are coming. We’ve been praying that the boy would be delivered from danger. You must take Norjee tonight.”
“But—”
The monk held up a hand to stop her. “Our brother’s visions are never wrong. The evil is coming here. I will try to convince my brothers to evacuate tomorrow.”
The second monk arrived with a canvas bag. With a bow, he handed it to Neona.
“What’s happening?” Zoltan asked.
“They want us to take Norjee tonight.” She cast a worried look at the boy. “I guess he would be safe with the young ones in the cave.”
“All right. I’ll teleport him to Beyul-La, then come right back for you.” Zoltan reached for Norjee, but the boy slipped past him and ran toward the monks.
With tears in their eyes, they held him tight, then nudged him toward Zoltan. “Peace be with you, Norjee.”
“And you, Venerable Fathers,” he whispered.
Zoltan took hold of the boy’s shoulders and vanished.
The monks gasped.
“What manner of man is he?” The elderly monk shook his head in disbelief. “I could tell he was different, but I never sensed anything unholy about him.”
“He’s a vampire, but a good man,” Neona explained. “He and some other good vampires are helping us. There’s an evil vampire, Lord Liao, who is marching this way with an army of two hundred men.”
The monks exchanged grim, resigned looks.
“Our Venerable Brother warned us there is great evil approaching,” the elderly monk said. “We feared we would not be able to protect Norjee. You have answered our prayers by coming tonight.”
Neona sighed. “I’m afraid I’m still taking him into danger.”
The monk gave her a sad smile. “Your good vampire will protect him much better than we ever could.”
Zoltan reappeared by her side. “Ready?”
“Almost.” She bowed to the monks. “Thank you, Venerable Fathers, for raising Norjee and giving him love and kindness.”
The monks pressed their hands together and bowed. “Peace be with you.”
“When it is safe again, I’ll bring him back every now and then to visit,” she offered. The sadness in the monks’ faces made her wonder just how bad the brother’s vision had been.
Zoltan grabbed hold of her, and everything went black.
In Neona’s house, Zoltan guzzled down a bottle of blood. He’d left Neona and Norjee by the central fire pit, where they were having a bowl of soup with Tashi and Lydia. He hadn’t wanted to drink blood in front of the boy in case it frightened him.
A son. Zoltan finished the bottle and started on a second one. A week ago he’d set off to solve an old murder, and now he had a woman he intended to marry and a son. He’d protected hundreds of mortals over the centuries, so taking on this new responsibility didn’t disturb him. Quite the contrary. Instead of countless faces, he finally had the chance to love and protect two people who would be special to him. He smiled to himself. If he could be half the father Istvan had been to him, then Norjee would do fine.
He eyed the second bottle, now empty. It must be because of the Living Water he’d added, for he’d had four bottles tonight and he still felt hungry. There were only two left in the ice chest. So far he hadn’t noticed any effect other than hunger. It could be that it took time. Or perhaps his body undid any changes during his death-sleep.
He removed the bottles, then teleported to the kitchen in his castle with the ice chest. At vampire speed, he refilled the chest. Then, back in Neona’s house, he poured a small portion of each new bottle into an empty one, then topped them all off with his supply of stolen Living Water.
He drank another bottle, then joined the others at the fire pit. Winifred and Freya had just arrived from target practice in the adjoining valley. The queen was with the dragon children in the cave.
Lydia was cooking flatbread over the fire and laughing at how fast Norjee could eat them. Freddie and Freya both hugged the boy and welcomed him home.
With a blush, he scooted up close to Zoltan and mumbled something.
Neona smiled. “He’s not used to being around so many women.”
Tashi passed Freddie and Freya each a bowl of soup. “You two were at target practice for a long time.”
Freya exchanged a smile with her sister. “We’ve never seen so many fine warrior men before.”
Freddie snorted. “Men? It was the tigers you wanted to meet.”
Freya shrugged. “I thought the youngest were-tiger was very handsome. Rajiv is his name.”
“I see you managed to get onto their team,” Freddie said.
“And what about you?” Freya nudged her sister. “You’re on the team with the man who calls you a goddess.”
“We’re being assigned to teams?” Neona asked.
“Don’t worry,” Zoltan told her. “We’ll be on the same one.”
Lydia passed Freya a hot loaf of bread. “I thought the dart gun was rather easy to use.”
“It is.” Freya tore the loaf in half and passed a piece to her sister. “But I insisted on practicing a lot.”
Freddie snorted. “You didn’t want to leave your pet tiger.”
“Do not dare call him a pet.” Freya grinned. “He claims to be ferocious.”
Lydia shook her head. “We’re preparing for battle, and all you can think about is men?”
Freya sighed. “I know. I’m blaming it on Zoltan.”
“Excuse me?” he asked.
“You gave us those books to read,” Freddie explained. “Now we have romance on our minds.”
“Exactly.” Freya stirred her soup as a dreamy look came over her face. “I’ve been reading The Perils of a Passionate Pirate. He has long, flowing black locks and sun-kissed bronze skin. Just like Rajiv. And the heroine—she stowed away on his ship, disguised as a cabin boy, but he saw right through that. He’s very clever—”
“And passionate,” Tashi muttered.
“I’ve been reading Duke in Boots,” Freddie announced. “It’s about a duke—”
“And his boots?” Neona asked, her mouth twitching.
Freddie nodded. “He doesn’t dare leave his residence unless his fine Hessian boots are polished to a glossy finish. He’s so incredibly handsome that the heroine took one look at him and stumbled, trampling all over his boots with her muddy shoes.”
Freya gasped. “The horror!”
They both laughed.
Emma materialized close by and gave Zoltan an annoyed look. “You have yet to teach Neona how to fire her dart gun. She can’t go on a mission tomorrow night unprepared.”
“We’ll do it soon.” Zoltan motioned to the young boy, who was watching everyone curiously. “We brought Norjee back to live here.”
The boy smiled when he heard his name.
Neona patted his back. “He inherited Minerva’s gift. He can communicate with winged creatures.”
“Like the dragons?” Emma asked. When some of the women gasped, she gave them a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with us.”
Her smile faded as she took a seat by the fire. “Angus and I are worried that it may be the dragons that Lord Liao is after. He may have heard rumors of their existence.”
Lydia nodded. “Our dragons have flown these skies for thousands of years. There will be peasants and farmers who have seen them or heard of them.”
“That’s what we figured.” Emma frowned. “Master Han may want control of them. Imagine how easy it would be for him to take over new territory if his soldiers are flying about on fire-breathing dragons. Villagers will surrender to Master Han to keep from being burned.”
Freddie grimaced. “We can’t let Master Han get them.”
Emma leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “Tell me more about them. How many are there?”
“Three children,” Neona replied. “Xiao Fang is the oldest. He hatched six years ago.”
“Six?” Zoltan asked. “He looks about twelve.”
“The dragon children age twice as fast,” Lydia said. “Until they reach puberty and the time of their first shifting.”
“Xiao Fang can already breathe fire.” Freddie finished her bowl of soup. “He’ll shift soon. Maybe two or three months from now.”
“He had a sister,” Freya added. “But a few minutes after she hatched, she turned blue and couldn’t breathe.”
Freddie sighed. “It was terrible. Our mother tried to save her, but they both ended up dying.”
“That’s how Calliope died?” Zoltan asked, and the two sisters nodded.
“I’m so sorry,” Emma told them. “There are two more children?”
“A boy and girl.” Neona ladled more soup into Norjee’s bowl. “They hatched three years ago, so they look like six-year-olds.”
“Wait a minute.” Zoltan sat back. “The eggs are hatching every three years?”
“Yes.” Neona gave him a worried look. “The next group could hatch any day now. Two eggs.”
“I hope there will be more females.” Lydia handed Norjee a fresh loaf of bread. “By the end of the last cycle, we had only five females left. That’s why there are five nests.”
Neona sighed. “The cycle before that, we had fifteen nests.”
Zoltan winced. The dragons were dying out.
“What do you mean by cycle?” Emma asked.
“They live for about five hundred years,” Neona explained. “Then the females lay their eggs and die. The males die soon after. If the last male doesn’t manage to survive till all the eggs are hatched and the dragon children are able to take care of themselves, then the whole hive can perish.”
“That’s why they made a pact with us,” Lydia added. “Three thousand years ago, when the original three women came here, there was one male dragon left, and he feared he would die before the eggs would hatch.”
“The old dragon made a pact with the three women,” Neona said. “They were given the Living Water and this valley to live in. In exchange, they were to become the mothers of the new hatchlings. It is our sacred duty to protect the young ones until they can shift and take care of themselves.”
“Then they take care of us.” Freya used her piece of bread to sop up the last of her soup. “They lift the heavy stones to help us build our homes. And they snatch up donkeys and goats and bring them here.”
“And these are the only dragons left?” Emma asked.
“As far as we know,” Neona said. “Thousands of years ago, they existed all over Europe and Asia. But some are hit by lightning and die. Or sometimes they have hunting accidents. When they dive down at great speeds to catch prey, they can crash into each other or into trees. Others are killed by slayers. There was a time when stragglers would fly here from Europe or eastern China, seeking refuge. The last one from Europe came over a thousand years ago.”
Zoltan nodded. “They became extinct there. I don’t recall ever seeing one.”
Norjee sat up suddenly and looked toward the cave.
Emma inhaled sharply. “What was that?”
“Norjee heard the young ones,” Freddie whispered. “I have the gift, so I can hear them, too. Norjee is answering them.”
Norjee jumped to his feet and ran toward the cave just as the oldest dragon shifter dashed out.
The two boys stopped and looked at each other. Norjee reached a hand out to touch Xiao Fang’s shoulder. The dragon boy grinned.
“What is going on?” The queen marched from the cave, frowning. She halted when she saw the two boys.
Neona jumped to her feet. “Your majesty, this is Minerva’s son. Norjee. He has her gift.”
Nima’s face turned pale.
“Xiao Fang is inviting Norjee to sleep in the cave with him and the other children,” Freddie whispered. “Norjee has agreed.”
Norjee glanced back at Neona and grinned. He dashed toward her, gave her a hug, then ran back to Xiao Fang. The two boys went inside the cave.
Freddie smiled, her eyes glistening with tears. “Xiao Fang is calling Norjee his brother.”
The queen stepped toward them, frowning at Emma. “They have told you all our secrets now?”
“We will do everything in our power to keep the dragon children safe,” Emma promised her.
Nima nodded, then scowled at the other women. “Go to your homes to rest. I will watch over the young ones for now.” She marched back into the cave.
“Good night, then.” Tashi poured a bucket full of ashes on top of the fire to extinguish it.
“That reminds me.” Emma watched the fire die. “From now on, no visible fires in this valley or the next. Liao will be looking for us, so the valleys must remain dark.”
“We understand,” Freddie told her. “Good night.” She and Freya gathered up the dirty dishes and took them to the storeroom. Lydia and Tashi followed them with the cookware.
“Where will you do your death-sleep?” Zoltan asked Emma.
“Tiger Town. Most of the Vamps are teleporting there before sunrise.” She tilted her head, gazing at the cave. “Do you hear them, Zoltan?”
“No. I only hear animals. The kind without wings.”
“Maybe it’s because I was a telepath before I was transformed.” Emma turned to him and Neona. “I can hear them. Every word.”