From Chapter 1, The Spirit Dragon's Keeper by Catarina Lilliehöök

Let's have a peek into an amazing book titled 'The Spirit Dragon's Keeper' (book 1 in The Polar Saga Series) we had the pleasure of editing with Swedish born author, Catarina Lilliehöök.

"I have two immediate problems. The first is my hair. It’s cut short, like that of a boy. The South China sun is bearing down on my neck like a flaming beast. 
“Tamen laile!”
Beyond the curtain of swaying bamboo, excited voices announce our arrival. My throat tightens. How old will the boys in there be? And how many? I have dreaded this moment for nine long moons, and this is my second problem. Long Si, the Dragon Temple, is not for girls, especially not nine-year-old foreign girls. With twitchy fingers, I follow my master. Curved rooftops dance in my side vision, and tall mountains tower menacingly around us. How did I get from reindeer herder to this? Everything is still unreal. I have not seen a motorcar since we crossed the border; we have no horses, and Master Li’s money has dwindled along the way. The long walk has left me bone weary, and fear spikes in my system in front of the imposing gate. We enter, and I nearly stumble into my master as he halts in the lower courtyard. Buildings, mounted stone tablets and sculptures of lions and turtles surround me. My eyes instantly pick out the grand structure beyond the stairs and the upper courtyard: the Blooming Lotus Flower’s Palace Hall. I know it from Master Li’s drawing. He made me memorize it all.

For a suspended moment, everything in the courtyard stops. Next, a flurry of boys surrounds us, gawking, drawing near in tighter and tighter circles. Five feet away, they stop. Their gazes strip the meat off my bones, making my heart beat wildly. Pressing my lips together, I try to hide the toe peeking from my worn left shoe.

“It is good to have you back, Abbot Superior.” An old woman with a laundry basket nods in greeting.
“Ah, Mei. I hope the washing is not too hard on your joints.”
A second woman, wearing an apron, hurries across the upper courtyard brushing flour from her arms. “You’re back!”
“Cook Ma,” Li sharpens his gaze, but at her almost imperceptible headshake, disappointment flits across his face.
The crowd quickly melts away as a man with broad shoulders pushes through. His face has a carved quality, and the ends of his long black moustache nearly dips into the forked beard below.
“Master Li,” he nods curtly as he comes to a stop. 
“Master Gang.” Li offers a tight-lipped smile. “How are your fighting classes?”
“Very good.” He puffs up his chest, nodding at a boy with square cheeks and hard eyes. “Yong Da’s excelling. As you know, ta ai chi ku.” The boy eats bitterness like sweets.
Yong Da rakes me with his gaze.

I can tell what will come will not be pleasant, so I bow my burning face. A big cockroach scuttles between the throng of black canvas shoes.
“Ta shu she.” The boy spits out my birth year: Snake. Master Li told them? Shock prevents me from glancing at my master. “She won’t be able to fight any warlords.”
Fight warlords? Despite the heat, I shiver to my toes.

Apart from the two boys flanking Yong Da, the others look away, embarrassed. I’ve learned it’s not the Chinese way to be so direct. Yong Da does not care.
“Nüwu,” he snorts: witch.
They know I’m a girl. My short hair is fooling no one. Or did Master Li tell them this also? I am not a witch.Anyone born in the year of the Snake can have many good qualities. Master Li taught me about China.
“Xiao long,” says a little boy no more than five or six, staring from under somebody’s arm. “It’s not snake; it’s xiao long.”
One of the masters pats his head. “That’s right, Xiao Wei.” He adds the prefix for little. “Little dragon is what she is.”

In the Chinese zodiac, Snake comes next to Dragon, and to soften unpleasant connotations, Master Li told me that it is common to call oneself small dragon instead of Snake. How can a birth year matter so much? And why did he tell people in the village I’m an orphan? I heard him. Guer, tai kelian le. I had bitten my lip in anger. Liar! I am not an orphan. I am Mila. My parents are reindeer herders in the wild lands far above the Polar Circle. Master Li stole me and gave me a new name: Lu Mi La. In China, the surname comes first, and Lu means reindeer, so now I am Mila Reindeer. But that was many moons ago, and my memory is hazy.

“Off you go,” the master gives Little Wei a gentle push. “All of you, back to your chores.” He turns and smiles. “I am Master Peng, teacher of scripture. I will show you to your room.”

My room—as though this is home. Home is so far from here that my throat tightens. Home is Sápmi, the northern part of Fennoscandia, a region stretching over four countries of arctic territory: Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Russia. Temperatures often go below thirty, and the sun in winter does not even reach the horizon. Where it’s wild and free, where life moves with the seasons and the migrating herd, and where you learn to observe. I have been here less than five minutes, but already I know three things: Cook Ma bears a secret, Master Li has something Master Gang wants, and Yong Da hates me. Teeth cutting into my lip, I keep my eyes trained on the ground. The cockroach has advanced further into the throng of feet.."

*Catarina's book is available to buy on Amazon and in selected bookstores globally.