Mountain of Dragons and Sacrifice Tara

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MOUNTAIN OF DRAGONS AND SACRIFICE
Copyright © 2024 by Tara Grayce

Taragrayce.com
Published by Sword & Cross Publishing
Grand Rapids, MI
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This book is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and settings are the product of the author's over-active imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead,
events, or settings is purely coincidental or used fictitiously.
To God, my King and Father. Soli Deo Gloria
For all those who have faced monsters
 Contents

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
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Acknowledgments
 Chapter One

It’s a tale as old as myth and legend. The girl sacrificed to a monster to save her village, kingdom, or people.
The maiden sacrifice. That’s me. Or was me, once upon a time. Tied to a stone altar in a forest, waiting to
get eaten by a dragon.
How did I get here, you might ask?
Good question. Don’t worry, it’s actually a very fun story. Spoiler: I don’t get eaten by the dragon.

he mountain loomed over the village, stark and gray and particularly gloomy on this, the Day of Sacrifice. A perpetual
T mist clung to the mountain’s crags, shrouding all but its base in such thick fog that most of it couldn’t be seen. Hiding the
monster’s lair from the sight of those living in his shadow.
With our empty ceramic jug on a shoulder, I hurried toward the village of Thysia in the early gray of dawn. A crisp autumn
breeze swept down from the mountain, stirring the dust of the path that led from my family’s home to our village and rattling the
leaves of the olive trees lining the path. The gnarled trunks and waxy leaves tangled to either side, grotesque and ghostly at this
early hour. Clumps of olives hung heavy on many of the trees, ready for the harvest.
Our village’s olive oil was known as the finest in the land, due to an extra quality that other cities and villages couldn’t
match.
What those other cities and villages didn’t know was the cost we paid for that fine oil.
A cost I didn’t think was worth it, but what did I know? It wasn’t like the village elders cared what I thought.
The path opened up as it joined the main cobbled road that led through Thysia. Sandstone homes stood beside the road,
growing larger and closer together the nearer I came to the village. A city, really, with several roads branching from the central
public plaza.
At the center of the village, the market square opened before the columned citadel, where the village elders met and
conducted the smaller sacrifices for the dragon. Throughout the year, the citadel claimed a large portion of the harvest, of the
goat herds, and of all the produce of the village to support the village elders and the citadel guards.
To one side of the citadel stood the water-filled fountain, fed by the aqueduct that brought clean water from the mountains
into our city.
I hauled my family’s ceramic water jug off my shoulder and held it beneath one of the five spouts of water gushing out of
the stone jars held by statues of people. The carved figures were frozen in poses of worship, their faces turned away from the
sculpture of a huge dragon with his wings outspread that glared down at the people beneath his feet.
A daily reminder of our overlord in the mountain. Only in statue form could we look upon his face, an act forbidden
otherwise.
A few other girls scurried up to the fountain to fill their own water jugs. We nodded to each other but didn’t speak. Not
today.
As I hurried home, the city streets remained nearly deserted. No one felt like going about their normal daily chores on this
morning of all mornings. A few people cracked open the wooden shutters that covered the windows and peeked out. A stray
dog snarled as it fought a rat for a scrap of food.
I trudged slowly, trying not to slosh the water from the ceramic jar I balanced on my shoulder once again.
My family’s home was tucked into a fold of the valley, surrounded by the olive trees that generations of my family had
tended. Our herd of meat and milk goats grazed among the olive trees.
As I pushed open the solid wooden door of our sandstone home, Mama dropped the rag she had been using to scrub the
table. “Nessa! There you are!”
“I was just fetching water for the day.” I set the ceramic jug beside the door, ready to be used for drinking, cleaning, and
cooking.
Mama bustled around the table, her dark brown hair gleaming in the morning light, the same color as my own curls. She
was several inches shorter than me, but that didn’t stop her from squeezing the breath out of me with her exuberant, squishy hug.
“The water doesn’t matter. Not on today of all days.”
“We still need water, even today.” I shrugged, not wanting to dwell on what today would mean. I could try to reassure both
of us that there were plenty of unmarried girls between eighteen and thirty in our city. The odds of me being chosen were low.
Those low odds hadn’t saved Clarissa. She had been my best friend, until she’d been chosen as the sacrifice five years ago.
I only had four more years until I was safe forever. Only a few more years, and I would never have to fear the Day of
Sacrifice again. At least, not for myself.
There was nothing I could do about any of it.
As long as we kept sacrificing maidens to the dragon, our olives produced better and sweeter than anything around. But if
we ever stopped, he’d swoop down from his mountain and burn it all to the ground.
Mama’s hug tightened even further. “If only you’d married. If only…”
If only I’d been a good dutiful daughter and gotten married. Then I’d be safe today.
Very few of the village boys had even gotten as far as asking. Those who had asked had been more interested in the olive
grove I’d someday inherit than in me.
I had the grove. I didn’t need to marry to support myself.
When the choice had come between risking my life on one day a year or knowingly stepping into a marriage that would be
miserable every day, then the choice had been obvious.
Though the conviction waned a bit today, facing the Day of Sacrifice and remembering the utter loss of watching Clarissa
led away to her death.
The door opened behind me, and Bapi’s heavy footsteps halted just inside.
Mama finally released me, her eyes teary, before she reached up and patted my cheek. “I suppose we should go.”
I nodded and forced my leaden feet to face the door.
My father—my bapi—stood there, wearing his normal tunic and breeches with his work sandals on his feet. His fingers
were large and callused while lines grooved his sun-worn face. He had likely been out first thing in the morning, checking on
the olives.
“How is the harvest looking?” I tried to smile, though it was hard.
Everything would be fine. I would join Bapi in the harvest tomorrow, as I always did.
Bapi gave a grunt. An affirmative grunt. Strong and silent, that was my bapi.
He reached out and held out a round token carved from the wood of an olive tree.
I swallowed and took the token, the surface smooth against my palm as I clenched my fist around it.
My token. The one that would either doom me or save me today.
I wasn’t sure why my stomach felt so heavy this year. I’d survived eight previous Days of Sacrifice without being chosen.
There was no reason to think I wouldn’t survive this one.
Clarissa hadn’t. The pang of my best friend’s loss was a reminder that this day always ended in death.
Without another word or grunt, Bapi wheeled and marched out the door. Mama gave me one last look before she followed.
I glanced around our home. The sandstone walls. The hearth and its accompanying brass pot. The worn table. The pallets
stacked against the back wall where they could be brought out each night for sleeping.
I’d see this home again. There was no reason I should feel so melancholy leaving.
With a deep breath, I forced myself to walk out the door and follow my parents on the path.
We were silent as we trudged along the path and joined the slow procession of townsfolk heading for the plaza. Only a few
whispers and the scuffing of feet broke the oppressive silence.
In the plaza, the population of Thysia was packed into the space. With one last hug for Mama, then Bapi, I turned away and
pushed through the crowd.
At the base of the citadel steps, a line of the citadel’s guards kept back the crowd. At my approach, two of them parted,
letting me through.
I forced my wobbling legs to climb the stairs, where two of the village elders stood, dressed in pure white robes. One held
out a large ceramic jar. Paintings of the dragon and our village graced the jar while the rim of the jar was shaped like a dragon
with its jaws gaping open.
With shaking fingers, I dropped my token into the jar. The second elder made a mark on his clay tablet, checking my name
off the list. If a girl didn’t come forward, the guards would be sent to drag her to the square, and she would automatically
become that year’s sacrifice.
Giving a shiver at the cold breeze whipping through the square, I turned away and strode down the steps, joining the
gathering of girls at the base of the stairs, the line of guards at our backs.
Years ago, I would have stood with Clarissa. A pang still stabbed through me, though the grief was old.
Now I stood alone. I knew a few of the girls. We talked. But I had struggled to connect with anyone else after Clarissa’s
loss. At first, it had felt wrong to replace my best friend, as if I would be betraying her memory.
By the time I was ready to begin healing, most of the girls my age had married. Many already had children. I didn’t fit into
their lives any more than they did mine.
Two of the citadel guards strode up the steps. They brought large brass horns to their mouths, blowing a sonorous note that
stilled the last restless whispers among the crowd.
I clenched my fists, straightening my spine. Next to me, one of the eighteen-year-old girls, this her first choosing, sobbed
silent tears, her arms tight over her stomach as she held in her wails. A few of the other girls had tears trickling down their
cheeks.
With a grinding groan, the double doors of the citadel swung open, seemingly of their own accord.
The head elder strode from the citadel, dressed in white robes with stripes of sacrificial purple along the hems of his
sleeves. A matching purple sash wrapped from his right shoulder to his left hip.
The head elder halted next to the elder with the jar. He swept his arms out, taking in the crowd. “Tomorrow we will begin
the olive harvest and bask in the joy of a fruitful season and the promise of prosperity for the year to come. But the prosperity
of tomorrow is bought with the sacrifice we make today. Without this sacrifice, the monster of the mountain would sweep from
his lair and destroy our olives. We would lose not just this year’s harvest but the harvest for years to come. Our city would die.
We would die. We sacrifice today, so that our children and grandchildren can continue to enjoy the prosperity we have today.”
A good speech. One that sank dread deep into my toes.
The Day of Sacrifice was loathsome. It didn’t seem right to hand over a maiden every year to the monster. I’d lost Clarissa.
I was at risk myself, and I wasn’t sacrificial enough to volunteer to be the sacrifice to save my people. Surely there had to be a
better way.
But what other choice did our village have? If the dragon in the mountain destroyed our olives, generations of labor would
be lost. Olive trees took years to regrow after devastation. Who knew if the olives would continue to have the same, magical
property that made them the best in the land?
This was the price the dragon demanded. A maiden each year just before the harvest. If we gave that to him, then he didn’t
destroy us.
But the cost…
I shivered, my stomach churning.
“Today the fates will choose who will bravely sacrifice herself for us and save us from the monster in the mountain.” The
head elder reached into the jar, fishing around for a moment. He withdrew his hand, holding a round token.
He stared down at the token in his hand, lengthening the suspense that drew tight and painful through the plaza.
The girl next to me reached out and gripped my arm, shaking and still crying. I couldn’t even remember her name, but I
patted her hand anyway.
Then the head elder’s gaze swept over the gathered girls. “The fates have chosen Nessa, daughter of Thales.”
Distantly, I heard a scream. My mama’s cry. The girl’s hand was ripped from my arm as new unyielding fingers pressed far
too hard, yanking me away. The citadel guards hauled me forward, never pausing, even as I stumbled on the top step.
I cast a glance over my shoulder. Bapi struggled against four citadel guards, who held him back. Mama sobbed in the arms
of several of the other village women.
Then I was dragged inside the citadel, and the heavy doors thunked shut behind me.
 Chapter Two

Of course I was chosen. You already knew that.

We’ll just skip over the rigmarole of being prepared as the sacrifice. The elders’ wives stripped me of my
clothes, then chivvied me off to the sacred pool. Needless to say, I was pampered and perfumed and prepared as
thoroughly as any sacrifice ever was.
Instead of my old clothes, I was given a diaphanous light purple dress. Purple, the color of sacrifice. But
not the royal purple the elders wore. No, this dress was a maidenly pastel.
Why is it always a maiden? Do maidens taste better than non-maidens?
Or is it because it’s other appetites that the maiden is supposed to feed?
Another spoiler: things don’t get that kind of icky. Just to clarify.

perched on a cushion, barefoot and wearing nothing but the thin purple gown. It was all I could do not to shake—from the
I chill inside the citadel or from fear, I wasn’t sure.
One of the women brought a tray piled high with roasted lamb, honeyed dates, and a tabbouleh of bulgur wheat, parsley,
and chopped peppers seasoned with olive oil.
I stared at the tray, my stomach churning. How was I supposed to eat this, knowing what it was? My last meal.
Was I supposed to eat to make myself more succulent and delectable to the dragon?
My stomach heaved, and it took all my self-control to keep from hurling.
The wife of the head elder took one look at my face, then propped her fists on her ample hips. “The rest of you, leave us for
a few minutes.”
The other elders’ wives filed out of the room, leaving me sitting numbly on a cushion, my hands limply in my lap.
The head elder’s wife plopped onto the cushion facing me, then reached out to clutch my wrists in a grip as tight as fetters.
“You listen to me, girl. Fate has chosen you. You must not fail our city.”
“Pretty hard to fail getting eaten. Is there a wrong way to get eaten? It’s not like I can help it if my bones get stuck in his
craw.” I swallowed back the urge to break into slightly hysterical laughter. All this felt far too unreal, giving me the urge to be
snarky about it.
“Hold your tongue, girl.” The woman’s fingers tightened to near-bruising. Wasn’t the sacrifice supposed to be unmarred?
“None of that kind of cheek, you understand? When the dragon comes for you, you bite your tongue.”
“Right. Bite my tongue while he’s biting me. Got it.” I barely kept from rolling my eyes. I could either break into terrified
shaking or pretend bravado through an excess of cheekiness. Besides, it wasn’t like it would matter how lippy I was while I
was getting eaten.
Her eyes flared, her tone as intense as her grasping fingers on my wrists. “You are the sacrifice. You must embrace the
solemnity of this sacred moment. Our whole city depends on you. You must appease the dragon. Whatever the dragon demands,
you must do it. Give whatever he wants from you.”
“What do you mean? Isn’t the monster just going to eat me?” I couldn’t help the shudder that wracked my spine. The
bravery from my flippant words was wearing off. My fingers tingled, my head felt light, but my heart pounded hard in my
throat.
She didn’t flinch. The stony set to her jaw didn’t even soften. “It is not for us to question why the dragon needs the sacrifice
or what he wishes to do with that sacrifice. It is enough to know that he must be appeased.” She gave me a hard shake. “You
must submit yourself to his wishes. You must not talk back or resist. And most of all, you must not presume to look upon the
dragon’s face. If you do, you will unleash his fury on us all.”
I forced myself to nod. What else was I supposed to do? I had been chosen. There was nothing to do but prepare myself to
make the sacrifice that would save my city.
If I didn’t, the dragon would sweep from the mountain, roaring in his wrath. He would burn our city, burn the groves, burn
our people. Those he didn’t burn, he would kill in other, horrific ways.
My parents. Our grove. All burned to ash.
Her fingers were talons digging into the tender skin of my wrists. “Say it, girl.”
“I understand. I will not look upon the dragon’s face.” The words fell, numb and empty, from my mouth. I’d been taught
from childhood that it was forbidden to look upon the dragon’s face, despite all the artwork depicting him.
I couldn’t think about it. I couldn’t absorb that tonight I would…I would…
I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to go home. I wanted my mama’s hugs. My bapi’s grunt of approval. Our grove in the
secluded valley.
The head elder’s wife finally released my wrists. She sat back, waving at the tray of food. “Come now, do not look so
sorrowful. Eat. Celebrate today. You are highly favored to be chosen for this duty.”
I didn’t feel highly favored. I felt highly sick and shaky now that my bravado had waned.
“Your parents will be honored for your sacrifice.” The head elder’s wife plucked a juicy bite of meat from the haunch of
lamb and popped it in her mouth.
I had to look away, gagging at the sight of her eating, the churning in my stomach nearly too much to swallow back.
My sacrifice? That made it sound so much more willing than it really was.
For this harvest, my parents would be given the first use of the city’s olive presses. Our olive oil would be the first to the
market, and my parents wouldn’t have to give any of this year’s harvest to the citadel since they had already sacrificed so
much. At every festival and feast day for the next year, my parents would have the place of honor next to the elders.
Most of the families of those sacrificed moved away from the city before the year was up. Clarissa’s family left after nine
months. The curse of the sacrificed, or so the phenomenon was called when it was spoken of in whispers.
Would my parents leave? Would they abandon the grove that generations of our family had tended?
Yet what would be left for them? Without me, they had no heir. No one to tend the grove when they were gone.
If I was given the chance to say farewell to them, I would have to tell them not to leave. I couldn’t do this if I didn’t know
that they would be all right. That our grove would still be there, as if waiting for me to return.
I’d never return. But I somehow needed to have my home there anyway.

THE GOLDEN ORANGE of sunset beamed through the high, rectangular windows and shimmered on the surface of the washing
pool.
The tray of food remained nearly untouched. I had taken to pacing, the skirt of my thin dress floating around my ankles.
The door scraped open, then the elders strode into the room, followed by their wives. Several guards marched in after
them, taking up a position by the door.
The head elder swept a hard-eyed gaze down me, cataloging me in a shrewd, emptying kind of way, before he motioned to
me. “It is time.”
My legs shook so hard I couldn’t force myself to take so much as a step forward. My heart thundered in my ears and pulsed
in my throat.
His wife sighed, gripped my arm, and dragged me forward, hissing in my ear, “At least try to make this sacrifice with
dignity.”
Dignity. Ha. I was about to hurl the contents of my stomach or collapse in a heap. Neither one of those things was remotely
dignified.
The head elder led the way. His wife pushed me along while the rest of the elders and their wives closed around me.
We stepped out of the back chamber and into the echoing grand hall of the citadel.
“Nessa!” Mama shoved past a line of guards, her face tear-streaked, her eyes red and a touch wild. Bapi stalked at her
heels, his jaw hard, his fists clenched as if he intended to fight to rescue me from the guards.
To what end? I had been chosen. My fate had been determined. There was nothing else for me but to satisfy the dragon so
that my parents and the city could survive another year.
The village women halted Mama only a few feet away from me. The head elder’s wife glared imperiously at Mama, then
Bapi. “You may speak, but you must not touch. The maiden has been prepared and must not be tainted.”
As if she hadn’t been dragging me all over the place.
 I should have spoken up. I would have, if my throat hadn’t been so tight that I wasn’t sure I could force out words.
More tears poured down Mama’s face as she reached for me. “Nessa. We…” Her words dissolved into tears.
The elder’s wife sniffed, her nose tilted in the air, her eyes dry and hard. “Do not mourn. She is highly honored to have
been chosen for this sacred duty.”
Mama’s face crumpled, and Bapi wrapped her in his arms, holding her close as he met my gaze with eyes so filled with
pain that I nearly broke down right then and there.
I had to say something. I had to be brave, at least for this moment.
I reached for them, but I was halted before I could touch my mother. “I love you. Please, don’t sell the grove. Don’t…”
I wasn’t even sure what else I wanted to say. My words choked off with tears, my throat closing.
The head elder’s wife pinched my arm where my parents wouldn’t see, hissing, “Don’t cry. You must remain unblemished
for the sacrifice.”
Sacrifice. The word shook through me, tears further blurring my vision.
Claw-like fingers closed around my elbow, yanking me forward.
I blinked, trying to clear my tears. I barely had the time for one last glance over my shoulder at my parents—my bapi
gripping my mama as she sagged, keening, in his arms—before I was dragged through the doors and onto the columned porch
before the stairs.
All the city’s people lined the main road, dressed in their best clothes.
The head elder faced me, then picked up a wreath made from olive branches. He turned and placed the wreath on my head,
the sharp ends of the branches digging into my scalp. “We honor you for your sacrifice for our village.”
I could do nothing but stand there. Not that anything else was required of me. All I was supposed to do was stand there,
appear dignified, and meekly let the dragon snack on me.
The head elder picked up a flask, then poured the olive oil scented with a few drops of frankincense onto my head. “You
are the anointed maiden, unblemished and untainted. May you be found an acceptable sacrifice.”
Then the head elder and the guards ushered me down the steps, the stone rough and cold beneath my bare feet. Behind me,
the elders’ wives began a lament—a wailing chant that sent shivers down my spine.
A cold breeze blew down from the mountain, sending even more shivers through me. The dress left my arms bare, the linen
so thin it was barely decent. Far too thin for the coolness of autumn. I hadn’t even been given the decency of sandals.
As I approached, the villagers laid olive branches trimmed from their trees onto the street ahead of me. The branches
crackled beneath my feet.
The head elder and guards escorted me down the road, sticking too close to give me a chance to bolt, if I had gathered the
courage to do so.
Yet if I ran, I would be condemning my city to death. My parents to death.
Someone had to die tonight. Either the village or the sacrifice.
I was the sacrifice. This was my duty, my final gift to my city.
At the end of the village, a thin track led up into the mountains. Most of the elders, all of their wives, and the villagers
remained behind, leaving only me, the head elder, and the guards to make the climb up the mountain.
The gravel and dust squished between my toes. The head elder set a rapid pace, and I found myself panting as I struggled to
keep up.
The air grew colder, the night darker. The effort of the climb distracted me from what was coming. I could just climb, my
breaths panting, my muscles burning. So very much alive.
Then we pushed through thick evergreens, and a clearing opened before us, a slab of stone in the center. A layer of snow
dusted the evergreens and lay mushy on the ground.
My heart kicked up, and not just from the exertion. I froze, staring at the stone, everything in me quaking and sick.
Two of the guards grabbed my elbows and dragged me forward, my bare toes sliding through the slushy snow and layer of
wet pine needles coating the ground.
I dug in my heels, incoherent protests and screams tearing from me. I didn’t want this. I didn’t. I couldn’t.
It didn’t matter. Iron hands hauled me forward, forced me onto my back on the stone, and lashed my hands and feet to rings
set into the stone. I yanked at my hands, the harsh rope digging into my wrists, but the knots didn’t give.
The guards stepped back, and the head elder took their place. He tested the knots, then swept one more glance over me.
“Fortunately for you, it is a dark night. There is no need to blindfold you to keep you from seeing the dragon’s face.”
No blindfold. All the better to watch when the dragon ate me.
The guards turned to leave, marching down the path without so much as a backward glance at the maiden they’d left to die.
The head elder leaned closer, his voice lowering as he pinned me with his gaze. “Remember. Do not look upon the
dragon’s face.”
With that, he turned his back and strode from the clearing with his head high.
Leaving me tied to the stone. A sacrifice laid out for the dragon.
 Chapter Three

Now we are back to where we started. Me, tied to the stone waiting for the dragon to eat me.
Do you know there’s an ancient word for ritual sacrifice by dismemberment? Sparagmos. Such a visceral
word. Then there’s omophagia. The eating of the raw flesh after sacrificial dismemberment.
Funny that the ancients needed to come up with actual words for those things.
That was what was about to happen to me.
Or so I thought.

old seeped through my thin dress from the stone beneath me. My damp toes ached, and I found myself shuddering
C uncontrollably, and not just from the cold.
Would the dragon eat me whole? That wouldn’t be as bad, would it? Just one snap, one gulp, and everything would
be over.
Who was I kidding? It would be bad. So very bad.
I couldn’t just lie here, freezing, waiting for the dragon to come and do whatever he would do.
Yet I was supposed to lie here. Supposed to let the dragon do what he wished. Sacrifice my body, my dignity, everything to
save my village from the dragon’s wrath.
I choked on a sob, my breaths coming faster and faster. Blindly, I yanked at the ropes binding my hands. The rope burned,
then tore my skin, but I didn’t care. Couldn’t care. I just had to get away.
At last, I stilled, sweating from my exertions, shivering from the cold and the damp on my skin. Tears stung my eyes, frigid
as they trickled down my face.
All I’d succeeded in doing was knocking the olive branch crown from my head. At least the branches no longer dug into my
scalp.
It turned out, there is only so much terror a mind and body can take. Eventually, the mind stops processing, the body stops
panicking. I lay still as my breathing steadied, though I shivered as the cold seeped into my bones.
I stared at the stars overhead, encircled by a ring of trees. I’d never seen trees like this or stars like these. What was I even
looking at? I didn’t know enough about the wider world to say exactly what I was seeing.
Did it matter? These were my last moments. Each of my numbered breaths puffed in silvery clouds above me. Yet dying
with trees other than my beloved olive grove around me just added insult to injury.
A howl pierced the night, rising in pitch. More howls joined the first, sending even more chills down my spine.
Wolves? I’d heard a few before, distantly lurking in the foothills as they waited for a chance to snatch a goat or two.
But these wolves sounded big. Hungry. With lots of sharp teeth.
And here I’d thought getting eaten by a dragon was the worst thing that would happen to me tonight. With a dragon, I’d at
least have the chance to get eaten whole. The wolves for sure would tear me apart.
I yanked and twisted at my bonds again, but they wouldn’t give. The skin at my wrists tore, dripping blood onto the stone.
Great. Weren’t wolves attracted to the scent of blood? Or was that only sharks?
Not that it mattered. The howls seemed to be getting closer, echoing through the evergreens.
A roar swept the forest, rattling the branches and sending snow sliding to the ground.
The whump of mighty wings came from somewhere above before the shadow of a great beast glided overhead, indistinct
against the dark sky.
The dragon.
Something large landed nearby, cracking branches and shaking the trees. Then a vaguely human-shaped form, much smaller
than the shadow of a moment before, stepped from the trees. Though the humanity of his silhouette was broken by the massive
wings rising from his back. Something long and sharp glinted in the starlight. A knife? His talons?
A deep voice rumbled from the darkness, surprisingly human despite the added growl to it. “Don’t be afraid.”
Yeah, right. As if I could be anything but afraid when I was about to be eaten. Or something even worse.
I now understood the lectures on never looking at the dragon’s face. While he was free with his dragon shape, this almost
human side to him was something he never showed to the village. This form was forbidden.
I squeezed my eyes shut, words bursting through my near-frozen lips. “If you’re going to eat me, please eat me whole. Or
kill me quickly first.”
At least once I was eaten, I wouldn’t be cold anymore. Were dragons warm and toasty on the inside? That might not be so
bad. Right?
“I’m not going to eat you. I find maidens are far too stringy for my taste. I prefer a good rack of lamb slow roasted over a
fire.”
Not what I had asked, but all right. As long as he was talking, his mouth was kept too busy to eat me. “Then why don’t you
require sheep for the sacrifice instead of a maiden, if you like roast lamb so much?”
“That’s a good question.” The deep, almost dry voice came even nearer. “One I wish I could answer right now.”
Didn’t the dragon know his own reasons for the sacrifice? Or was he just being cryptic and cagey since I was an innocent
sacrificial maiden who mustn’t be told those pesky answers?
Even with my eyes shut, I could sense him halt next to the stone, his voice going softer. “I apologize for the wait.”
The wait? I would have gladly kept waiting, thank you very much.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut. I wasn’t doing a very good job at holding my tongue, but I’d at least be a good maiden
sacrifice and avoid looking at his face. “I didn’t mind. Really. You could just go away and leave me here.”
“And let the wolves get you? Or have you freeze to death? I don’t think so.” His voice sent skitters over my skin, and I was
all too aware of him standing over me.
My breath twisted tight in my chest, my muscles aching with strain, even as I couldn’t help but give in to shivering.
Apparently he didn’t like to eat frozen maiden for dessert.
That far too human sounding voice, the silhouette of a too real man with dragon wings, made everything so much worse.
For some reason, it would have been far better if he had been nothing but a beast, a dragon swooping down from the sky to gulp
me down.
“Hold still.” The voice was even closer now, a moment before a large warm hand settled on my bound ankles.
I flinched, my skin crawling with the need to fight whatever he was about to do.
But I was supposed to submit to the dragon. Obey his every command. Give him whatever he wanted.
There was a sawing, fraying sound, then the bindings snapped. The hand pulled the rope free from my ankles.
I tugged my feet away from him. What was he doing? Why would he cut me free? Did he want me unbound for some
reason? To hunt me down in the forest before he ate me? To take me back to his cave to toy with me before the end?
Then his hand was on my wrists, and my eyes flew open. He was a black shadow against the starlight, a knife glinting in his
hand.
I wasn’t supposed to look at him. I would anger him if I saw his face.
I squeezed my eyes shut again, even as the knife descended.
I’d asked him to kill me quickly before he ate me. For some reason, I hadn’t actually expected him to do it.
The knife sawed at the rope, then the tightness around my wrists loosened. Fingers pulled the rope away, then cupped my
hands in his larger ones, his thumbs lightly tracing the skin just above the pained ring around my wrists.
The dragon gave a sigh. “I’m sorry for this. Can you sit up?”
Could I sit up? I was shaking too hard to move, much less sit up. My teeth chattered so loudly I couldn’t think.
But the shakes worsened at the thought of staying as I was, laid out on the stone as a feast for a dragon. Gritting my teeth,
shudders quaking down my spine, I rolled to my elbows, then pushed to a sitting position. I wrapped my arms over my stomach
and curled in on myself. “Yes. Yes, I can sit up. I’m fine, see? All fine.”
I lifted my lids enough to peek at the dragon. The starlight was too faint to see much of him, but how much was too much?
He stepped back and produced a huge blanket from somewhere—he didn’t appear to have a pack—and held it out to me.
“You must be cold.”
Yes. So cold. I lunged forward and snagged the blanket from him, my fingers sinking into thick, woven wool. When he let it
go, I nearly dropped it, the weight more than I had expected.
The blanket was huge. I heaved most of it onto my lap, then struggled to tug some of it around my shoulders, shaking from
the cold the whole time.
 The dragon reached out, as if to help, but he halted and remained where he was.
Why had he given me a blanket? Did he prefer his meals warm rather than chilled? He had said he liked roast lamb. But it
seemed breathing fire might have been the quicker way to toast me than wrapping me in a blanket. Wouldn’t the blanket’s
threads get caught in his teeth? Did dragons breathe fire, as the legends said?
It was hard seeing him as the type to eat people when he appeared so human, except for the wings.
“I will take you back to my castle tonight.” The dragon knelt in the slush before the stone, peering up at me in a way that
was dangerously close to splashing his face with starlight. “I will need to pick you up and carry you. Would that be all right?”
I forced myself to nod, even as I gripped the blanket tighter, its thick warmth soothing, as if it could protect me from the
dragon’s intentions. A delusion, of course. The wool was a paltry shield, even if it was better than the flimsy dress I wore
underneath. “Do I really have a choice?”
“Would you rather stay here and freeze?”
“Yes, actually.”
The back of my neck prickled with the searching weight of the dragon’s eyes on me, but I didn’t look up or meet his gaze. I
knew better than that.
The dragon sighed, his breath clouding the space between us. “I wish I could honor your choice, but you can’t stay here.
You’ll die. I know you don’t believe me, but you don’t have to fear me. I won’t hurt you.”
Oh, sure, he wouldn’t hurt me. Just carry me off to his castle to do who knew what with me.
But he had a point about the dying part. If I stayed here, either I’d freeze to death or the wolves would get me. Perhaps I’d
freeze, and then the wolves would gnaw on my dead body.
I was free now. I could make a run for it down that path back to my village.
Yet the memory of the head elder’s cold gaze and his wife’s clutching fingers sent a shiver through me. Perhaps it was
foolish, but they didn’t feel any safer than the dragon.
Besides, if I ran, I’d endanger the whole village. The dragon would come for me, and who knew how much of the village
he’d burn. He might seem strangely polite now, but that was because he’d gotten the sacrifice he’d demanded.
Reaching out slowly, the dragon tugged the blanket more thoroughly around me, tucking it around my feet. He cradled both
of my feet in his hands. His palms were surprisingly warm, even through the layers of wool.
My toes tingled as feeling flooded back into them. I wasn’t even getting that skittering, want-to-pull-away feeling. Being
able to feel my toes again was just too nice.
After long moments, I sensed his eyes on me again. His deep voice rumbled, low and gentle in the space between us
despite the hint of a growl to the tone. “Is that better? Can you feel your toes now?”
I nodded again. For the first time in what felt like hours, I had stopped shaking.
“I’m going to pick you up now, all right?” The dragon remained where he was, and he didn’t move, as if waiting for me to
give a sign of my permission.
He’d been right that I had little choice. I gave another tense nod. With that, he stood and scooped me up from the stone.
I couldn’t help the squeak that escaped me, and I squeezed my eyes shut again. My breath caught, tense rather than shaking.
The dragon fumbled me for a few moments as he tucked the blanket more securely and warmly around me. Then he settled
me in his arms, curled against his chest. He was rather warm, and once I got over the feeling of having a stranger’s iron-
muscled arms around me, I snuggled deeper into the blanket, rested my head against his chest, and let myself sag with the
exhaustion of the cold and draining adrenaline.
With a whump, the dragon’s wings beat the air, launching the two of us into the sky.
I whimpered, but I kept my eyes squeezed shut. There was too much I didn’t want to see. The ground vanishing beneath us.
The emptiness of the air around us. My home disappearing forever. The dragon’s face, far too close to me where I might
accidentally glimpse something I shouldn’t.
The wind whipping by us was even colder at this height. Flakes of snow stung my face. I tucked myself deeper into the
blanket, warm in its voluminous layers and the dragon’s heat radiating from him.
I must have fallen asleep—or lost consciousness—driven there by exhaustion and cold and the terror of the night.
The slight jolt of the dragon’s feet touching down nudged me toward wakefulness. But I didn’t fully rouse myself until a few
more doors opened and shut, then he was setting me on something soft in a dark room.
A bed.
I tried to scramble away from him, too tangled up in the massive wool blanket to do more than flail.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” The dragon was already moving away, his voice retreating. “I’ll send in Phoebe. She’ll look
after you. If you need anything tomorrow, you can ask her or my steward. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
With that, the dragon left, accompanied by the creaking of a door opening, then the clunk of it shutting behind him.
I gripped the blanket tight around me, huddled on the bed where he’d put me.
Well, I wasn’t dead. I hadn’t been eaten. The dragon had taken nothing from me, though he had carted me off to his castle
for some unknown purpose.
 He was coming back tomorrow night. For what reason? Must be something ominous.
The dragon had only been gone for a few minutes before a soft knock sounded on the door. It creaked open, outlined by a
cheery orange glow, a moment before a woman stuck her head in. Her curly hair coiled around her head while the candlelight
illuminated the lines around her eyes. While it was hard to tell in the dark, she must have been in her late forties, perhaps early
fifties. “I’m Phoebe. Is it all right if I come in?”
I nodded, then realized she probably couldn’t see much of me, huddled in the mass of blanket as I was. I swallowed and
forced my mouth to open, my tongue to form the word. “Yes.” It came out more a croak than anything else.
But she heard it anyway because she nudged the door the rest of the way open. With a candle in one hand and pulling a cart
with the other, she bustled into the room. “You poor thing. Are you hungry? I have a bowl of thick, lamb stew that’s been kept
hot.”
I started to shake my head. Surely my stomach was still too twisted into knots to eat.
But as the scent of something savory and meaty wafted to my nose, my stomach gave a lurch, then a grumble. I’d barely
nibbled on anything all day, and the thought of just holding the bowl in my hands to warm my fingers sounded lovely just then.
I changed my shake to a nod, then peeled my fingers from their death grip on the wool, letting the blanket fall away as if I
were emerging from a cocoon.
The woman, Phoebe, set the bowl of stew in my hands, then handed over a spoon.
I sniffed at the stew. Would it be safe to eat?
The dragon wouldn’t have carted me off to his castle if he’d intended to kill me right away. He had mentioned he liked
lamb. Perhaps he’d had a bowl of stew earlier in the night before carrying me off.
Maybe that was why he’d been so uninterested in eating me. He’d snatched me on a full stomach.
The food was likely safe. Perhaps it was intended to fatten me up, but there would be nothing gained by refusing to eat it
except a death by starvation instead of by dragon. Would starvation be better? It would certainly be longer than death by
dragon.
I cradled the bowl in both hands for a moment longer, the warmth seeping into my bones as I gathered the strength to pick
up the spoon.
Carrying the candle, Phoebe briskly crossed the room and knelt before what I could now see was a fireplace carved into
the stone walls of this chamber. Perhaps it was a trick of the low light, but I couldn’t see any seams from the individual stones
of the fortress. Everything seemed to be smooth, solid rock.
Of course the fire hadn’t been lit when we arrived. That would have been too much light, risking that I would accidentally
look at the dragon’s face.
Phoebe picked up the poker, then stirred the coals to reveal the glowing red layer beneath. She set to work coaxing life out
of the coals with kindling, lighting a few pieces with the candle to further encourage a fire to life.
The sight was so strangely, soothingly normal that the tension in my muscles eased. I peeled my fingers from the bowl and
picked up the spoon. The stew proved to be pleasantly warm and just as savory as it smelled. That first bite settled into my
stomach, spreading warmth through my whole body.
When she had a fire going bright and crackling in the fireplace, Phoebe stood and turned to me. “I’ve a nice thick nightgown
for you. Would you like to go straight to bed or would you rather warm up with a soak in a bath first?”
Thinking of the elders’ wives and their perfunctory dousing of me, I shivered and shook my head. I reached for the blanket
again, pulling it around my shoulders.
Phoebe’s eyes softened still further. She set the candle on the table beside the bed, then pulled a folded nightdress from the
bottom tier of the cart. She set it on the foot of the bed before she collected my empty bowl. “I understand. The nightdress is
here if you want it. We should take a look at those wrists in any case.”
Right. I’d torn the skin up trying to escape, but I’d nearly forgotten about the constant sting in my fear of getting eaten by the
dragon.
Phoebe pulled out another bowl, this containing hot water. She perched on the bed before me and gestured.
Mutely, I held out a hand to her.
She dabbed at the rope burns and raw skin. I sucked in a breath at the stinging pain, but I didn’t pull away. Once she had
cleaned my wounds, she rubbed them with a balm that filled the air with a sweetly floral scent, then wrapped my wrist in a
bandage.
When she had finished tending to both wrists, she stood. “I’ll leave you with the candle. If you need anything, my room is
just down the hall. It’s the blue door, second to the left. Don’t hesitate to knock, all right?”
I gave her a nod because it was all I could muster. There was no way I’d wander this castle in the dark, not even just down
the hall. The dragon had left, but there was no way of knowing where he might be prowling.
Pushing the cart before her, Phoebe bustled from the room just as quickly as she had swept inside, though she paused at the
door. “There’s a lock, if you wish to bar the door after I leave.”
With that, she softly closed the door behind her.
 I was alone. I was very nearly warm.
And I wasn’t dead. That was unexpected. I had definitely expected to be dead by now.
I’d have to figure out what to do with that turn of events tomorrow.
Forcing my shaking limbs to move, I climbed off the bed and tiptoed across the room. By the light from the fire, I found the
wooden bar leaning against the wall next to the door. Hefting the bar, I slid it into place on the brackets. A bar would do little
good against the dragon, but having the door locked still tricked my mind into feeling safer.
Tottering back to the bed, I curled up in the blanket, not bothering to change into the nightdress or wiggle underneath the
covers, and collapsed into sleep.
 Chapter Four

As you might imagine, waking in a dragon’s lair was a disconcerting experience.

Almost as unnerving as being carted off by the dragon in the first place.
But most bewildering of all was the fact that I was alive and unharmed. A sacrifice isn’t supposed to see
the morning. Yet there I was, very much alive, watching the dawn.

suppose I could have huddled on the bed all day, hiding. It was tempting.
I But I was alive when I shouldn’t be. I didn’t know how much longer that status would last. I might as well make the
most of this reprieve.
I forced myself to get up with the sun, investigating my room. Throwing open the shutters, I leaned against the windowsill
and took in the dawn breaking over a landscape unlike anything I’d ever seen before.
Gray stone peaks pierced the sky, slicing across the horizon as far as I could see. Snow laced the crags while mist clung to
the slopes. Evergreens marched along the valleys between the mountains.
I wasn’t on the same mountain I’d walked up the night before. Not sure how that was possible, but clearly it was.
With the light of dawn spreading through the room, I took in the space. The fireplace filled the wall across from the
window, the embers from the night before still glowing. A fireplace poker leaned next to it. Perhaps I should use that on the
dragon when he came tonight, if I dared.
The bed stood in the center of the room with a table next to it. The table held a candle and striker, as if just waiting for me
to light it.
That left only the cupboard beside the window to investigate.
I opened it, then blinked at the single blue wool dress that hung there, including a set of rabbit fur lined boots on a shelf.
Huh. I wouldn’t actually have to walk around in a nightdress. And I’d finally have shoes again.
Once I changed into the dress, I smoothed the skirt. It fit like it had been made for me. Strange, that. Even the boots fit.
Changing into the dress had dislodged the bandages around my wrists, and I tugged them off, meaning to re-wrap them.
But beneath the bandages, my skin was fully healed, only a faint pink marking where I’d rubbed my wrists raw trying to
escape.
What was going on? Even something as superficial as bleeding rope burns didn’t heal overnight. I ran my fingers over the
healed skin.
I might have stayed there, frozen, but just then my stomach growled like a wildcat caught in a trap.
Straightening my shoulders, I headed for the door. No sense waiting around here. My room didn’t have any food, and I
wasn’t about to wait around hoping Phoebe or someone else would bring me some.
I’d nearly become wolf or dragon food last night. I was going to celebrate being alive by enjoying breakfast.
Hopefully the dragon wouldn’t be out and about. He had implied that he wouldn’t see me until tonight. And Phoebe had
invited me to wander down the corridor to knock on her door last night. I couldn’t imagine anyone, even one of the dragon’s
trusted servants, would be so blasé if the dragon could be found lurking around the corner.
Perhaps dragons were nocturnal? It was an odd thought that the overlord in the mountain should be so strangely bound by
time.
Or he simply preferred to lurk at night since the darkness would prevent anyone from seeing his face, which was forbidden.
The servants were probably thankful for those tendencies. It would be a terrible bother to have to worry about accidentally
looking upon him in the daytime.
With those assurances bracing my spine, I flung open the door and marched into the unknown.
I found myself in a perfectly normal, boring corridor. The walls were the same solid but smooth stone with doors painted in
bright colors set on either side. My door was at the very end of the corridor, so there was only one way to go from here. A
distant echoing of voices and laughter came from that direction.
Laughter was good, right? Surely if the dragon was around, no one would be laughing.
I strolled down the passageway, following the sounds as they grew louder. A few other passageways branched off while
the occasional window alcove beamed enough light onto the stone walls.
The corridor turned a corner, then opened into a large room. Along one wall, pillars bracketed arches framing huge glass
windows that provided views of the mountains. Small groups of tables and chairs clustered along one side of the room while a
rug, cushioned chairs, and divans gathered before a fireplace that was as tall as I was.
But it wasn’t the enormous fireplace or the mountain views that halted me in my tracks.
No, I froze where I was because of the strange collection of people in the room. If you could call them people.
The most normal of the men and women gathered at the table looked human…except that they were far too beautiful and had
ears that tapered into points. They wore clothes of wool and fur and leather, much like what I was wearing. Except the colors
were nothing like I’d ever seen from dyes back home. So rich and vibrant.
But the others in the room…several of the males had goat legs and small curving horns growing from their heads. One girl
had dark green skin. Her hair was also threaded with green and…were those some kind of evergreen branches woven through
her hair? Whenever she moved, she shed a few leaves.
At the far end of the room, a nook formed a semblance of a room on the far side, though it remained open to the larger
space. Another, smaller fireplace dominated the space that was recognizable as a kitchen, even in this strange place.
Phoebe bustled around the work table in the kitchen, stirring something in a bowl, flipping something in a pan over one
section of the fire, stirring a large pot over the other side of the fire.
As she reached to stir the pot again, a part of the wall seemed to bulge toward her. A bulbous, stone-colored thing plopped
onto the ground next to her. It had pincers almost like a crab but the rest of its body was somehow both gelatinous and rock at
the same time.
Phoebe sighed, then whacked the creature with her ladle. It hissed at her, flinching, but it didn’t retreat. She beat it a few
more times with her ladle before it gave a globby leap and disappeared into the wall once again.
“I’m not in the olive grove anymore.” I gripped the door frame, my knees wobbly. This was not at all what I was expecting.
What had I been expecting for a dragon’s lair? Piles of gold and bones. Maybe a rotting carcass or two.
Not strange people and even stranger creatures popping out of the wall.
A man rose out of his seat in the far corner. I hadn’t even noticed him on my first glance around the room, sitting in the
corner as he had been. He was one of the more human-looking people, though he still had pointed ears, easily visible since his
dark brown hair was cropped short, as was his scruff of a beard. He wore a leather jerkin over a blue tunic, but his clothes did
little to hide the breadth of his shoulders and the power in his movements. As he drew closer, I saw that his eyes were a bright
shade of blue.
He glanced from me to Phoebe. “Be polite, everyone. We have a visitor.”
Phoebe halted what she was doing and spun. “Oh, mercy me, you’re an early riser. I was going to bring you breakfast in
your room before showing you around. I apologize for that. Well, you’re here now. Everyone, this is…” She paused, then
glanced at me. “I’m afraid I haven’t asked your name.”
“Nessa.” I gaped at the strange collection of people looking back at me.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have given them my name. It was a personal detail. Wasn’t there something about names having power?
I was in these people’s power anyway. It wasn’t like a name could give them much more power over me.
“Nessa. Such a lovely name.” Phoebe smiled, then gestured to the others. “Let me introduce you.”
“She’ll want to step out of the doorway first.” The tall, broad-shouldered man’s voice was a rich baritone, though it didn’t
hold the rumble the dragon’s voice had. “She will get trampled if she stays there.”
“Oh, right, of course.” Phoebe gestured to me with her ladle. “Come in, come in. You won’t want to stand there in the
doorway once the gnomes arrive.”
“Gnomes?” My tongue rolled around the unfamiliar word. My wobbly legs seemed to lock up.
From behind me, a low rhythmic chanting echoed down the passageway, accompanied by the stomping of feet moving in
sync.
I jumped and scurried out of the doorway, though I kept my back to the wall. I didn’t know what to think about all these
strange people. I was alert, but my heart wasn’t racing as it probably should be. My survival instincts were probably broken
after the whole getting sacrificed to a dragon thing.
The sound of marching grew louder, closer. Then a pack of creatures—people?—marched into the room in neat rows of
three. They stood a mere two feet tall or less and wore brightly colored clothes, long blobby shoes, and pointed hats that were
pulled down over their eyes so that only their noses and their long white beards could be seen.
Row after row of these gnomes marched into the room, chanting some kind of song along with the pace of their feet. Inside
the room, they shifted from rows of three to a single file line. From seemingly out of nowhere, each of them pulled out identical
wooden bowls and pewter spoons.
Still giving that rhythmic song-chant, they each approached Phoebe one by one. She ladled something out of her pot—
porridge, most likely, though I couldn’t get a good look at it from here—into their bowls. As each one received their portion of
breakfast, they spun on their little pointy-toed shoes, and marched back the way they had come.
I stood there like a tree, watching them. Where had that dragon taken me when he’d flown off? Perhaps I should have
looked down after all. Not that I would have been able to see much in the dark.
As the last gnome marched out of the room, their chanting and marching fading down the passageway behind me, I released
a long breath.
Phoebe straightened and motioned to me with her ladle. “Come along, then. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
The green-skinned girl grinned at me and patted the open spot on the bench next to her. “You can sit by me.”
Yes, sit by the clearly not-human girl who was shedding some kind of evergreen leaves all over the place.
The man with the leather jerkin and blue tunic held out a hand to me. “You’re safe here with us. I’m Evander, the dragon’s
steward.”
The dragon had said to ask his steward if I needed anything. Not sure if that made the steward trustworthy or not, since the
recommendation came from the dragon.
But he at least didn’t have wings or massive teeth. That was about the best I could ask for right now.
I tottered past Evander, giving him a nod to acknowledge his greeting, and sank into the seat next to the evergreen girl. Now
that I was closer, I could see that the leaves in her hair and shedding onto the floor around her were some kind of laurel, an
evergreen I was familiar with from back home.
The sight of something familiar—even if the leaves seemed to be growing from the girl’s scalp—was somehow relaxing.
As if this girl was safe, despite her green skin and strange hair.
She grinned, shedding a few more leaves. “I’m Daphne. I’m a dryad. That means I’m part tree, in case you were
wondering. Laurel, in my case.”
“I recognized the leaves.” I gestured at her hair, then dropped my hand.
“Laurels do grow in the Human Realm where you’re from.” Daphne paused, then covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh,
right. You haven’t had that explained to you yet.”
“What explained?” I glanced from her to Phoebe as the matronly woman set a bowl in front of me.
“Don’t worry about that now. Eat up first.” Phoebe handed me a spoon.
Waiting wasn’t my strong point. But the savory smell of breakfast was turning my stomach in that I-should-eat kind of way.
As soon as I glanced down, however, my stomach gave a different kind of clenching flip.
The breakfast was porridge. Probably. But it was pink. Bright, vibrant pink. Porridge was supposed to be cream colored.
Not pink.
Then there were the fuchsia berries sprinkled on top. Food was not supposed to be those colors.
“Don’t worry. It’s safe for you to eat.” Daphne pointed at the bowl. “Phoebe would never use anything that would harm a
human. She’s human herself, after all.”
That was true, but I couldn’t trust Phoebe. Not fully. She worked for the dragon. They all did. They might seem nice and
friendly, but I’d have to keep up my guard around them. I still didn’t know what the dragon wanted from me or why he
demanded a maiden sacrifice in the first place. He’d sounded reluctant to eat me. Did that mean he had a different purpose for
me?
I’d eaten the stew last night without any ill effects. Hopefully the same would hold true of this porridge.
And if it didn’t, well, hopefully death by strange food was less painful than being eaten.
I dipped my spoon in, blew on the bite, then popped it into my mouth. Flavors of rich berry and sweetest sugar burst across
my tongue. It was almost too sweet, but not in a gagging sort of way. I swallowed it down and dug in. At least the food here
was good. That was a bonus.
While I was eating, most of the others had cleared out, as if to give us a bit of privacy while I ate. I was thankful for that.
Everything was already strange enough without going through an exhausting introduction session with all of them.
As soon as I gulped down my final bite, I spun on the bench so that I could face Phoebe, Evander, and Daphne at the same
time. “So what was it that you needed to explain to me?”
Phoebe perched on a bench across from me, her dark brown eyes soft. “Do you know where you are?”
“The dragon’s castle?” I couldn’t help that the answer came out more a question than a statement.
Evander crossed his arms and leaned against the table next to Phoebe. “Yes, we are in the dragon’s castle. But his castle is
on a mountain that is at the very edge of the Court of Stone in the Fae Realm. Or the Greater Realm, as you call it.”
 I froze, gaping first at him, then at Daphne and Phoebe. Hoping one of them would contradict him. Dread settled deep in the
pit of my stomach when they didn’t.
I had been right. I wasn’t in my olive grove anymore. Nor on the mountain of sacrifice.
No, I was somewhere else entirely. A whole new realm.
How? When? Had I actually died on that stone on the mountain, and I hadn’t even realized it? I slid my hands over myself. I
still felt very real. Very alive. Not like a soul wandering about while my body lay frozen to death somewhere far away. “Am I
dead?”
“Oh, don’t worry. You aren’t dead.” Daphne gave a little bounce on the bench beside me, shedding another leaf.
Good to know. I didn’t feel dead, but I wasn’t sure what dead would feel like. Swallowing, I tried to keep my tone level
instead of hysterically panicking like I felt. “Greater Realm? How?”
Phoebe heaved another sigh, speaking as if she’d had this conversation many times before. “Here at the edge of the Court of
Stone, the distinction between the realms gets muddy. Kind of like the spot where a river mouth pours into the sea. Salt water
and fresh water combine until the water is brackish and both river and sea, depending on how the tides are turning. When you
were brought up the mountain, you were left in one of the places that exists in both the dragon’s mountain and the mountain you
can see on the human side of the realms. You are now fully in the Fae Realm.”
I was still reeling from the news that I was in a different realm. Until I’d seen Daphne, the gnomes, and the others, I’d
thought I was at least in the same realm as my village and parents. That I would be able to peer out a window and see the tiny
speck that was my home if I looked hard enough.
Some of my thoughts must have shown on my face because Evander’s smile dimmed into something almost stern. “Don’t try
to find your way back home on your own. You’d get yourself lost in the Fae Realm if you tried.”
For a moment, the thought of escaping, going home, and hugging my mama and bapi again, swelled inside me.
But I couldn’t go home, could I? I was the sacrifice. A sacrifice didn’t just return home as if nothing had happened. I had
been given to the dragon, so here I must stay to serve whatever purpose he had for the sacrifices he demanded from the village.
For the wellbeing of my family and village, I had no choice but to be a good sacrificial maiden and stay here.
I clenched my fists and faced Evander. “I won’t try to leave.”
“You aren’t a prisoner.” Phoebe leaned forward, as if she was about to reach to pat my arm but she halted short.
“It would just be safer if you didn’t leave,” Evander added, never changing his stance or expression.
Daphne nudged me with an elbow. “It’s the Fae Realm. It isn’t exactly safe for any of us to just wander around. The dragon
keeps all of us safe.”
Not a prisoner? Safe?
Ha. As if.

I HUDDLED ON THE BED , my knees drawn up to my chest, as darkness descended outside of the window.
The dragon had said he would come tonight. After Phoebe and the other servants had been so pleasant to me all day, I
couldn’t imagine that the dragon was coming to eat me.
But he could still do whatever else he wanted with me.
I’d considered putting the locking bar in place, but it would do little good against a dragon. Besides, locking him out might
anger him. I was supposed to do whatever he asked of me, and I couldn’t risk the defiance of barring him out.
Darkness cloaked my room, but I didn’t get up to stir the embers in the hearth. I didn’t light the candle that had been left on
the table by my bed. I didn’t dare risk any light that might shine on the dragon’s face when he came.
And there it was. The expected knock on my door. The dragon’s deep, rumbling voice asking, “May I enter?”
Did I really have a choice? Why did he even bother asking for permission?
I didn’t think he’d go away if I told him no.
Give him whatever he wanted. That was what I was supposed to do. So I swallowed and squeaked out, “Yes.”
The door creaked open, then the dragon’s imposing figure stepped inside, his wings brushing against the lintel. I could
make out nothing of his form beyond that in the darkness. He halted just inside the door. “I hope your day was pleasant.”
“Yes.” I hugged my knees to my chest. Why was the dragon asking about my day? Why would he care?
He made a movement, though I couldn’t make out more than a faint sense in the darkness. “You may light the candle. There
is no reason for us to stand here in the darkness.”
There was every reason. “I can’t look upon your face.”
“Yes, you can. You may light the candle.” The dragon’s voice rumbled even deeper in the darkness.
What was he saying? I wasn’t supposed to look at the dragon’s face, and yet I was also supposed to do everything the
dragon commanded. How could those things be so contradictory? Why would the dragon give a command that went against his
own orders?
 This was a test. The dragon had to be testing my devotion.
“No, I know I can’t look upon your face.” I squeezed my eyes shut, just to be on the safe side.
This situation wasn’t anything like what I’d expected, but I would be a good sacrifice, listen to my village elders, and not
look at the dragon’s face.
The dragon made a noise almost like a sigh. Was it a sigh of relief that I’d passed his test? Perhaps there was some purpose
I needed to fulfill, but I had to show that I was faithful before he would reveal it to me.
So far the test had been easy to spot. But the tests would get harder. There must be a reason none of the others, even
Clarissa, remained here at the dragon’s castle.
Unless they were locked away somewhere in a deep dark dungeon I had yet to see.
Or they were dead. Killed when they failed the tests.
“In that case, then I hope you sleep well. I will be back tomorrow night.” With the scrape of wings on stone, the dragon
ducked his head, strode out the door, and shut it behind him.
That was it? He tested me, then left.
After the exhaustion of last night and the tension of anticipating tonight, I found myself relaxing as I curled up beneath the
blankets, feeling strangely safe now that his purpose for his visit had been determined.
I’d passed his test tonight. I’d pass tomorrow night too. I’d prove to the dragon that I was worthy for whatever purpose he
had for me.
I just hoped that purpose wasn’t anything gruesome.
 Chapter Five

You can see what a pickle I was in. I found myself in an entirely new realm, surrounded by people who were
acting all too nice.
Yet I had the words of my elders ringing in my head. Be a good maiden sacrifice. Don’t look at the
dragon’s face. Appease him by any means necessary, for the good of the village.

he next morning, I wandered to the breakfast room in time to help Phoebe with the cooking. Not that she needed a whole
T lot of help. The kitchen all but cleaned itself. This was the Fae Realm, after all. Even the clothes were magically altered
and whisked into the wardrobes. Hence the blue dress that fit me as if made for me.
Apparently there were some courts in the Fae Realm where the food was provided already cooked. This particular
mountain wasn’t ranked high enough in the Court of Stone to get such treatment, but the cooking was minimal.
After watching the parade of gnomes claim their bowls of porridge, I dished out my own bowl and sat next to Daphne once
again.
She grinned at me between bites of her porridge. “Did you have a good day yesterday? It isn’t as scary as you thought,
huh?”
That made me pause. No, it wasn’t as scary as I thought. I’d stuck by Phoebe’s side, likely getting underfoot. But she hadn’t
acted like I’d been an imposition. Even the dragon had been strangely courteous during his nighttime visit, never stepping
farther into my room than the doorway.
Luring me into a false sense of security while he tested me, surely.
“No.” I chewed down my bite of porridge, swallowing hard. “What did you do yesterday? I didn’t see you around.”
Perhaps I could learn more about what the dragon wanted of me by what he asked of his servants. I hadn’t had a chance
yesterday to explore more than the passageway from my bedchamber to the kitchen.
“I have my own task.” Daphne looked away for a moment, that bubbly smile of hers fading for just a moment.
Well, that was mysterious.
Daphne hopped to her feet. “Come to think of it, I’d better get started.”
She strolled from the room, the laurel leaves in her hair rustling as she went.
That left me alone with Evander. Or, nearly alone since Phoebe was still puttering around the kitchen. The others had
already eaten and left for wherever they went each day.
Evander gave a small nod in my direction. “I’d like to show you around more, now that you’ve had a chance to settle in. I
have a task for you, if you’re up for it.”
“Task? What will I be doing?” I gripped the edge of the bench I was sitting on. When Evander said I have a task for you,
he really meant the dragon had work for me.
It would be something awful, I just knew it.
“Each court in the Fae Realm produces something that is shared with the other courts in reciprocal agreements that bind the
whole realm.” Evander clasped his hands behind his back, the motion pulling his blue tunic taut over his broad shoulders.
“Some courts share food. Others fabric or clothing. Still others share knowledge or revelry. The Court of Stone mines precious
metals, gems, and stone. This particular corner of the court mines for gemstones.”
“So…I’ll be mining.” That was an unexpected use for a sacrificed maiden. If they wanted miners, the dragon should have
demanded strapping young men instead of tender young maidens. But what did I know?
“No, no, of course not.” Evander’s mouth curved into a smile. “The gnomes do the mining.”
Oh, that made far more sense. Those little guys would make excellent miners. Even with their hats pulled down over their
eyes—did they even have eyes?—they hadn’t had any trouble navigating through the room to claim their breakfast.
“But the gnomes just mine and cut the gems. The gems still need the final polish and to be sorted into various cupboards for
distribution all over the Fae Realm.” Evander gestured toward the door. “I’ll show you the way.”
Good, because I had no idea where I was going. I’d followed the sounds of voices to get this far.
Polishing gemstones didn’t sound so bad. I’d take that over a lot of other options. Still strange that the dragon felt the need
to demand maidens from our village for such a task. Didn’t he have enough help here in the Fae Realm to put to hard labor?
Evander spun on his heel and strode from the room. I hopped to my feet and trotted to catch up, though I stayed a pace or
two behind him. It didn’t feel right to fall into step with him. He was the dragon’s steward. I was merely a captive maiden.
He led the way out of the large gathering room and down the passageway I’d walked down earlier. I wasn’t sure, but I
thought we turned down a different corridor than the one that led to my bedchamber.
“Is your room comfortable? Do you have everything you need?” Evander glanced at me as we walked, his mouth an
intriguing line in his square jaw. Not quite a frown, not quite a smile. Something else entirely that I couldn’t read.
“Yes.” I squeaked out the answer hurriedly. I wasn’t sure what other answer he’d want.
Besides, what else did I need to be comfortable? I had a bed. I had warm clothes. I was being fed. What else was there?
Evander slowed his pace so that I had no choice but to walk next to him. “Please tell me if you need anything, and I’ll be
happy to provide it.”
I seriously doubted it. But why not push my fortune a bit? “Anything?”
His eyebrows rose. “Almost anything. There are a few things beyond my power.”
Like convincing the dragon to let me go. I wouldn’t ask for that, of course. “What’s my purpose? Why am I here? Can you
tell me, or is it forbidden?”
“Right to the hard questions.” Evander’s steps faltered for only a moment before he returned to that slow, steady stroll,
though his gaze swung away from me to stare ahead. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you just yet. You wouldn’t believe me even if I told
you.”
“I’m here in the Fae Realm surrounded by gnomes and dryads and whatnot. You might be surprised what I will believe.” I
dug my fingers in the soft fabric of my skirt. Everything would be so much easier if the dragon, Evander, Phoebe, or someone
just told me why I was here, since apparently I wasn’t here to be dragon chow.
Evander huffed a breath, shaking his head. His voice held a strangely bitter note. “Not this, I’m afraid. Not yet.”
It was as I expected. He couldn’t tell me what the dragon wanted with me or what would happen to me. So frustrating.
“Nessa.” Evander half-turned to me, halting. “I know you don’t believe me, but you’re safe here. No one is going to hurt
you. Not even the dragon.”
Why did Evander have to sound so achingly compassionate even as he lied to me? And he wondered why I didn’t believe
him. I gestured at the passageway around us. “Then where are the other maidens who came before me?”
I forced myself to hold his gaze, even though my knees shook at asking such a direct question. What would Evander—or the
dragon—do to me if I didn’t keep my mouth shut the way I was supposed to?
Evander held my gaze with such a sadness in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was low and soft. “Safe.”
I longed to trust the emotions I saw there. But I couldn’t. Shouldn’t. He was loyal to the dragon, and he’d say or do
whatever he was told.
Even lie.
If the other maidens had been safe—if Clarissa had been safe—then they would have returned to the village. Clarissa
would have found a way to tell me she was alive. Their families wouldn’t have disappeared only months after the maidens did.
At least I now knew where I stood with Evander. I could ask my questions, but he would tell me whatever the dragon
wanted me to hear. I couldn’t trust him or anyone in this mountain.
After a moment, Evander tore his gaze from mine, a slight slump to his shoulders, as we set out along the tunnel once again.
We headed deeper into the mountain, away from windows and sunlight. Torches lit the corridors with an unnaturally clear
orange that didn’t seem to give off smoke.
A gloppy, snarling sound came from the stone to our left a moment before one of those gelatinous stone creatures plopped
out of the wall into our path. It waved its stone-colored pincers, blinking wide black eyes up at us.
Evander stepped forward, then kicked the creature, sending it tumbling down the corridor. At my squeak and flinch, he
glanced at me. “Stone gremlin. They’re relatively harmless, though their pinch stings. Just kick them or whack them hard
enough, and they’ll go away.”
The gremlin gave another grinding snarl before disappearing into the wall once again.
Stone gremlins. Great. As if this place couldn’t get any more weird.
We rounded a bend in the tunnel. As soon as we did, a roaring, splashing sound echoed from somewhere up ahead. The
mouth of our tunnel brightened with sunlight that seemed to sparkle on water falling from above.
We stepped from the passageway into a spacious cavern. A large hole opened in the ceiling, letting in brilliant sunlight,
along with a thin cascade of water. The water splashed into a pool at the center of the cavern before winding its way in a creek
deeper into the mountain. Many passageways and tunnels branched from the cavern, so many that I was likely to get lost if I
tried to navigate on my own.
I tilted my head back, gaping upward at the waterfall. A few glittering snowflakes drifted down through the waterfall’s
mist.
“Guards and some of the other servants live down those tunnels.” Evander pointed at a few of the dark openings. Then he
gestured to a passageway that contained a grand staircase leading upward. “The dragon’s quarters are up there.”
I shivered, hugging my arms tighter to my body. “So they’re forbidden?”
Of course the dragon’s inner lair would be forbidden. He forbade people from so much as looking upon his face. It seemed
the greatest of presumptions to set foot in his quarters.
Especially since he was likely up there right now, sleeping or doing whatever else a dragon did during the day.
“No, of course not.” Evander’s mouth gave that wryly tilted smile again. “I thought you’d like to know so you can make an
informed decision on whether you want to wander up there or not. You are free to do so. After all, I go up there all the time,
and I’ve never been eaten.”
Huh. Really? That didn’t fit with everything I’d been taught.
Still, unless the dragon demanded I attend him in his quarters, I was most certainly not going to wander up there of my own
volition. The less the dragon even remembered I existed the better. Nor would I risk angering him by setting foot somewhere
that might be forbidden, despite what Evander said.
This had to be a test. Tempting me to tread where I wasn’t supposed to.
I couldn’t forget that Phoebe, Evander, Daphne, all of them were the dragon’s minions. They might seem friendly, but they
were still doing his bidding.
Maybe I was overly suspicious, but I didn’t think that polishing gems was the only reason the dragon was demanding
sacrifices. He had to have some other reason for me. For all the girls who had been sacrificed over the years. Perhaps he
needed to test me first, to see if I was the right girl for his purpose.
Well, if this was a test, I was going to pass. I had to pass. I didn’t think I’d like the consequences of failure.
Had all the other girls failed? Where were they now? Locked in some deep, dark part of this mountain? Dead? Was
Clarissa even now “safe” but suffering in some dungeon beneath my feet?
What were my odds of succeeding where they had failed?
Evander headed to the second largest of the tunnels, after the one that led to the dragon’s quarters. This tunnel had the creek
flowing down it, chuckling merrily as it danced over rocks.
We followed the tunnel around a few more twists and turns, crossing back and forth on stepping stones over the creek. After
a few minutes of walking, the tunnel opened into another large cavern.
This one was ringed with benches and couches richly upholstered. Brightly colored, plush rugs covered every inch of the
stone floor while so many chandeliers hung from the ceiling that the room was bright as daylight. A few stone cubbies with
wooden doors ringed the room above the couches.
At the far side of the room, a set of doors blocked off the tunnel, set so snugly into their frames that I doubted even a
smidgen of light shone past them to the other side. Above the noise of grinding and sanding, the faint sounds of the gnome
chanting came from the far side.
Many of the people I’d seen eating breakfast earlier lounged on the rugs and couches, piles of stones on the tables beside or
before them. Some of the people held polishing cloths while others were working pedal-powered grinding wheels.
Occasionally one of them stood, adding the stone they had been working on to the pile beside someone else or putting the stone
in one of the cubbies.
They briefly glanced up, nodded to me and Evander, then went back to work. Perhaps they didn’t dare let the dragon’s
steward see them slacking off.
A smaller door with a wooden flap edged in sheepskin was set in the larger door. As we stood there, the flap opened, and a
tiny cart filled with stones rolled into the room. One of the men with goat legs hurried to grab the cart. He dumped the contents
on the large table in the center of the room, then pushed the cart back through the flap.
“I’ll introduce you around. But first, I’d like to show you the gnomes’ operation.” Evander crossed the room, nodding to a
few more of the people, before he halted in front of the doors and knocked, speaking loudly. “Light incoming.”
The chanting from the other side cut off.
After waiting a few seconds, Evander plucked one of the torches from its bracket on the wall, pushed the door open, and
stepped inside, holding the torch high.
A line of the gnomes I’d seen at breakfast stood before us, one of them a little ahead of the others. They had their pointed
hats pulled down over their eyes once again, though their beards and clothes were dirtier than they’d been at breakfast.
 The lead gnome opened his mouth, but Evander stepped forward. “As the dragon’s steward, I have taken it upon myself to
introduce Nessa to the work crew. Nessa, this is Boss Gob and his work crew. Boss Gob, this is Nessa, our latest guest.”
Latest guest. That made the sacrifices sound so benign. Where were the other guests if things were as nice and friendly as
they seemed on the surface?
The lead gnome took another step closer. When he spoke, his voice boomed surprisingly deep from such a small body. Yet
the voice still seemed small, despite its deep tone. “I am Boss Gob. Allow me to introduce my crew.” He rattled off a list of
names so quickly there was no chance I was going to remember them, not to mention they were all so similar I couldn’t
possibly keep them straight. Nob. Dob. Hob. And so on.
“Boss Gob, please show Nessa your operation here.” Evander gestured deeper into the tunnel.
“Come right this way, Lady Nessa.” Boss Gob led the way down the tunnel, his hat bobbing with each of his tiny steps.
I had to all but shuffle to walk slowly enough for his pace. Evander only took one step for every dozen of the gnome’s.
With a barked word that I didn’t catch, Boss Gob sent the rest of the gnomes scattering. They ran ahead of us, diverging into
different tunnels so small I wouldn’t have been able to stick more than my head inside.
In moments, the chanting resumed, accompanied by the ringing of steel on stone.
As we headed down a tunnel, lit only by the torch held in Evander’s hand, I leaned closer to him. “Why can’t I understand
them? I can understand everyone else.”
“The gnomes have their own language apart from the normal fae language we all share. Even other fae can’t always
understand them, unless they wish to be understood.” Evander shrugged, the torch in his hand bobbing with his measured steps.
“The gnomes like it that way. They prefer to keep to themselves as much as possible.”
“Do they mind our visit?” I shivered and rubbed my arms. The gnomes looked almost cute. But they probably had sharp
teeth and could turn vicious if threatened. I wouldn’t want to be swarmed by them.
Maybe that was what had happened to the others. They were eaten by the gnomes rather than the dragon.
“No, they don’t mind. You’re a part of this court now.” Evander’s mouth curved into something almost like a smile. “They
enjoy showing off, for the right people.”
As he spoke, we rounded another corner and stepped into the largest cavern yet. Gems glittered in the light of the torch,
shoveled into messy piles higher than Evander was tall. The piles disappeared into the darkness of the vast space, the torch
insufficient light to reach the far corners.
Evander lifted his torch high as we wound our way through the room. All around us, gnomes scurried about, dumping carts
into the piles or loading carts with gems from the piles. A few gnomes sat on the floor, using tools to cut the gems into shape. It
was all a little willy-nilly, considering just one of these piles of gems would be a king’s ransom back home.
At the far side of the room, a large wooden water wheel turned in the current of the creek, spinning a barrel filled with
what appeared to be gemstones. A few of the gnomes scurried along raised walkways, adding gems here, taking gems out there,
adding in sand, rinsing sand away.
All the while, they kept up that steady chant, almost a gruff song, staying in perfect rhythm with each other, the squeak of the
wheels, the whoosh of the waterwheel, and the pounding of their tools on stone. Perhaps there was a kind of magic to that
cadence, the thrum of the mountain itself breaking forth in their song.
And strangely, seeing these hardworking gnomes relaxed something inside me. These gnomes might be strange with their
caps pulled down to their noses and their gruff, barking language, but in the end, they weren’t that much different than my family
and neighbors back home. They were simply hardworking people living under their dragon overlord, just as my village was.
They served him in a different way, and they didn’t seem to fear him the way Thysia did.
“This is the tumbler used to give the stones a first polish.” Evander gestured to the contraption swarming with gnomes.
“Once the stones are polished, the gnomes load them into the carts that they push into the other room for the final polish and
distribution.”
I never would have guessed, looking at the mountain looming above the olive grove, that all of this was going on just
beyond the realm.
“As you can see, the gnomes mine far more gems than we can manage to process.” Evander gestured at the large cavern,
piled nearly to the ceiling in places with gems.
“That’s where I come in. The dragon needs more help polishing stones.” I pointed back the way we’d come.
“Only if you’re willing.” Evander turned back the way we’d come, strolling between the piles of gems once again.
“Of course. Whatever the dragon wants me to do.” I shivered, glancing around at the nearly dark cavern. At least I would
be able to work in the other room instead of here in the dark.
Was this the reason the dragon wanted a maiden sacrifice? He needed more gem polishers? Then why a maiden? Anyone in
the village would have done just as well.
If that was the reason, the other sacrificed girls should have been there, polishing away in that room alongside all the fae.
If they hadn’t been eaten, then where were they? Had they failed some kind of test? Could one fail at polishing gems?
Evander had already shown me the kind of evasive non-answers I’d get if I asked questions. Better I guard my tongue and
figure out what was going on by myself. Questions about the sacrifice and its purpose would not only risk myself but also my
village if I angered the dragon.
Instead, I’d focus on learning what I could about this new realm. The more I learned, the less likely I would be to fail a test
and the more chances I would have to find out what was really going on here.
We halted for a moment as a gnome trundled past, pushing a cart. More gnomes scampered about, never running into each
other despite having their hats pulled to their noses.
I leaned closer to Evander, keeping my voice barely above a whisper. I didn’t want to offend the gnomes, in case they were
the type to turn vicious. “How do they avoid running into each other?”
“Truthfully, I’m not sure. I asked Boss Gob once, but his explanation didn’t make a whole lot of sense.” Evander shrugged,
the movement pulling his jerkin and tunic tight over his broad shoulders. “The gnomes are sensitive to light, but as long as you
warn them, they’ll pull their hats down. I’m not entirely sure if they have eyes. I’ve never seen them. They seem to be able to
function perfectly well with their hats down to their noses.”
Strange creatures. I didn’t dare ask about the possibility of sharp teeth and them turning on me if I did a bad job.
When we reached the large double doors, Evander gave a whistle. Boss Gob popped up out of one of the piles of stones,
waving back.
Evander pulled open one of the doors, then waited for me to walk through first.
In the other room, the fae had gone back to chatting while they worked. Their chatter halted as we entered, though smiles
remained on their faces.
Evander closed the door behind us, then motioned me to a seat on one of the couches. He gave me quick introductions,
though I didn’t remember most of the names. One of the goat-legged men—a faun, I learned—set a pile of gems on the table in
front of me. A woman, her skin faintly glittering, handed me a polishing cloth and explained what to do. Evander pointed out
the various cupboards. Each one was designated for another court or place in the Fae Realm.
“And this bin is for some of the best or more unusual gems. Those go to the dragon.” Evander plucked an emerald out of the
wooden tub. It wasn’t the largest of the gems I’d seen that morning, but it shone with a clear, green light. Evander rolled it
about in his fingers, a strange light glittering in his blue eyes.
Of course the dragon would claim the best gems for himself. I touched one of the other gems in the bin. “The dragon takes
his cut of the wealth.”
“Something like that.” Evander turned the gem over in his fingers, his gaze still utterly focused on it.
If the dragon loved gems that much, then I would definitely do my best polishing them. I couldn’t give the dragon any reason
to dispose of me.
Evander squeezed his eyes shut, clenching the stone in his fist for a moment, before he plunged fist and stone into a pocket.
“I’ll deliver this one to him personally.”
Not a task I would volunteer for, but the steward must be more inclined to spend time with the dragon than I was. He
wouldn’t be his steward otherwise.
Unless Evander had been just as trapped as I was now. Perhaps all of them, from Phoebe to Daphne to Evander, were
bound to serve the dragon without any escape.
That still begged the question, where were all the other maidens who had been sacrificed to the dragon over the years? Had
they failed somehow? Had the dragon disposed of them?
And how could I avoid the same fate?

THE DRAGON STOOD in the doorway of my room, never fully crossing the threshold, his wings scraping the lintel. “Are you
going to light the candle?”
“Nope. Not going to do it.” I clasped my hands in my lap to show I wasn’t even tempted to so much as reach for the candle.
“I know I have a purpose here, and I’m ready to fulfill it, whatever it is.”
Perhaps if I showed how willing I was to do what he wanted, he would tell me what he wanted from me. Worrying about
getting eaten had been bad enough, but this ignorance of my role here was nearly as terrifying.
“Who says I have a purpose for you? Maybe your purpose is to light the candle.”
Infuriating dragon. I knew my purpose wasn’t that. Seeing the dragon’s face was the only thing that was clearly forbidden.
I tucked my hands beneath my legs. “Is there something else I’m supposed to do? Am I supposed to invite you farther into
my room? Let you sleep at the foot of my bed or something?”
The head elder’s wife had made the dragon’s demands sound far darker than merely polishing stones and avoiding lighting
a candle. If it had been something simple, then the other girls would be here. Clarissa would be here.
“No, that would be creepy.” The dragon’s deep rumble held far too much horror for the monster who demanded my
sacrifice in the first place.
 “What do you call demanding maiden sacrifices every year?” I snapped my mouth shut so fast I nearly bit my own tongue.
Why had I said that? I was going to get my village burned to the ground saying stuff like that.
Instead of throwing me into his deepest, darkest dungeon, the dragon made a rumbling sound, his tone almost dry. “Not
ideal.”
Then why make such demands at all? Why sound so regretful?
And why wouldn’t he just tell me what was going on instead of leaving me so in the dark?
 Chapter Six

A mysterious purpose no one would explain. A dragon who didn’t seem to want anything—anything besides me
to do the forbidden and light the candle—despite demanding sacrifices. A steward with broad shoulders and a
handsome face who I didn’t dare trust no matter how nice he seemed.
If I was going to get answers, I would have to find them myself.

polished the gemstone with such vigor that I scraped my cuticles and several of my knuckles cracked and bled.
I But I didn’t stop. To anyone watching, I would be the image of a dedicated rock polisher.
Several of the other rock polishers cast looks in my direction, but I bent my head and tried to ignore them. They were all
spying on me on behalf of the dragon.
Well, let them spy. All they could report was that I was hardworking.
The conversation of the others buzzed against my ears, the pitch rising the closer we came to the midday break. As midday
arrived, the others stood, laughing and setting aside their rags, sandpaper, and gems.
I stayed where I was, sanding the gem in my hand.
One of the fae women—her skin a glittering pink—halted next to me. “Lady Nessa, aren’t you coming to lunch?”
“I’m not hungry. I think I’ll stay here and just keep working.” I flashed her what I hoped was an innocent smile, not taken in
for a moment by her use of a false honorific for me.
My stomach chose at that moment to give a loud gurgle. I kept my smile firmly in place, hoping against hope that she hadn’t
heard the noise.
The woman shared a glance with one of the fauns before she shrugged and rejoined the others.
I bent my head over my work, all but holding my breath, as the last stragglers took their time exiting.
Finally, the door closed behind the last one. I waited another few minutes before I set the gem and sandpaper aside, rose to
my feet, and crept to the door. Pressing my ear to it, I listened for a long moment.
When I didn’t hear anything from the other side other than the gurgle of the creek, I cracked the door open and peeked out.
What I could see of the tunnel outside remained empty.
I opened the door wider and stepped into the passageway, closing the door softly behind me.
Keeping a wary eye out, I tiptoed down the tunnel that followed alongside the creek that flowed through this particular part
of the mountain. My heart pounded, my breaths loud in my ears. At least my obnoxiously rumbling stomach was masked by the
splashing echoes of the creek.
I reached the waterfall cavern without seeing anyone. Hiding in the dark entrance of the tunnel, I dug into the pocket of my
dress and withdrew the candle and holder I’d taken from my room. The items had fit with surprising ease in the pocket without
feeling bulky and bumping into my leg as I’d expected.
I lit the candle from the nearest torch, then gazed around at the many tunnel openings branching out from this main cavern.
Which one should I explore first?
Not the one that led to the dragon’s lair, that was for certain. The answers I sought might lie up there, but I wasn’t about to
risk angering the dragon by setting foot up there, despite what Evander had said.
If there was a deep, dark dungeon where the dragon was keeping the other maidens, it wouldn’t be down one of the well-lit
corridors. I turned into the first black opening I found. As long as there were no branching passageways, I wouldn’t get lost.
 As I tiptoed down the tunnel, pools of light and shadow spread around me from the candle I held in my hand. The stone
stretched into the darkness ahead of me, broken only by the occasional bracket holding an unlit torch.
A sound came from behind me. Were those footsteps?
I froze, holding my breath, my hand trembling and sending the candle’s flames dancing across the stone walls.
Yes, those were definitely footsteps reverberating loudly off the stone as someone strode confidently down the tunnel
toward me.
Holding a lit candle as I was, there was no way whoever was behind me hadn’t already seen me. Nor was there anywhere
to hide in this empty tunnel.
Was it the dragon? It was the middle of the day, but I had wandered far from the seemingly inhabited areas of this mountain.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my back against the wall. My voice came out far weaker and shakier than I intended.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me. Evander.” His voice was low, as if he didn’t want to startle me.
I released a breath, opening my eyes and peering in that direction.
He strolled down the corridor, his hands in his pockets in a manner that would have seemed casual, except that it meant he
wasn’t holding either a torch or a candle to light his way. He wore his typical blue tunic and leather jerkin, which just
highlighted the breadth of his chest and the strength of his shoulders.
His footsteps scuffed loudly in the tunnel, and he wasn’t making any effort to walk quieter, as if he hadn’t wanted to startle
me.
“I’m not trying to escape.” I didn’t want him reporting to the dragon that he’d found me trying to leave. Though, I wasn’t
about to tell him my real reason for wandering.
“I should hope not. You aren’t dressed warmly enough for the outdoors.” Evander halted next to me, his broad shoulders
filling the space in the narrow tunnel. He tilted his head toward the darkness ahead of us. “Even if you were, you wouldn’t get
far going down this tunnel.”
I eyed him. Was that a warning? Was he here to drag me back to the rock polishing room? I edged back the way I’d come,
though Evander was all but blocking my exit. “I probably should head back.”
“They’ll be fine without you.” Evander gestured toward the tunnel ahead of us, a hint of a smile dimpling his cheek. “I
imagine rock polishing can get boring after a while. The dragon’s paperwork certainly is. We might as well stretch our legs
together.”
Was he really that oblivious to my real reasons for searching the tunnels? Or was he merely pretending to be naïve?
Probably the latter. Surely he was here to guard me and make sure I didn’t go anywhere I wasn’t allowed to go.
I wouldn’t get far trying to search for the other girls with the dragon’s steward tagging along. But maybe I could figure out
where to look the next time I sneaked away by gauging Evander’s reactions.
“All right.” I gripped the candlestick tighter and pushed away from the wall.
Evander’s gaze dropped to my hands, and his eyes narrowed, then darkened. He fished in his pocket for a moment before
he pulled out a tin, twisting off the lid. The close air of the tunnel filled with that same heady, floral scent as the balm Phoebe
had used on my wrists that first night.
Evander dipped his first two fingers into the orange paste before looking up at me. “It’s balm. For your hands.”
I glanced from him to the tin to the candle before I held out my free hand.
His fingers brushed mine as he juggled both the tin and my hand in one of his. Then he spread the balm over my knuckles,
working it in with fingers that were both gentle and strong, less callused than my bapi’s and yet not the soft hands I would have
expected of a steward.
My breath caught in my chest, and I couldn’t have said why I was so arrested in that moment, a heat spreading up my arm
from his touch. Perhaps it was the balm, doing strange things to my head.
The moment was broken as my stomach twisted, then let out a rumble.
His mouth curving with a smile, Evander finished with my left hand and waved to my right. I fumbled to switch the candle
between my hands, nearly dropping it. At least the balm had soaked into my skin, not nearly as greasy as I would have
expected.
He quickly spread the balm over my other hand before he capped the tin, dropped it into his pocket, and cleaned his fingers
on a rag that he also added to his pocket.
While I stood there, still befuddled and blinking, he reached into his pocket again, this time pulling out what looked like a
gyro, except the bread was pink, the cheese was green, and the various lettuce-like leaves were shades of purple. At least the
seasoned meat appeared more or less normal in color.
He plunked the food into my hand. “Skipping meals isn’t healthy. Life always looks less daunting on a full stomach.”
I stared at the gyro in my hand, not sure if I wanted to eat food that had been riding around in his pocket for who knew how
long. There didn’t appear to be any lint or fabric threads clinging to the gyro, nor was it smushed the way I would have
expected of something that had been in a pocket.
 Evander pulled a gyro of his own from his pocket, biting into it without hesitation. Why he was keeping food in his pocket,
I didn’t know, and I didn’t ask.
Well, if he wasn’t bothered by eating his pocket gyro, then I wouldn’t be either.
I took a tentative bite. The flavors burst across my tongue, far sweeter than anything we had back home, though the spiced
meat tasted a lot like lamb. The filling threatened to gush out of the pocket formed from the pink flatbread, and I had to juggle
the gyro and the candle to wipe my face with the back of my hand.
Evander waved with his gyro at the tunnel stretching before us. “Ready to keep exploring?”
I nodded, my mouth too stuffed with food to reply.
Evander fell into step beside me as we walked and ate, his brown hair appearing darker in the candlelight, a hint of scruff
shadowing his square jaw.
I tore my gaze away from him and forced myself to study the walls, ceiling, and floor as we walked, searching for hidden
doors or nooks or anything that looked remotely like a clue to what was going on.
Yet everything remained blank stone. If there was a hidden door to the dragon’s dungeon, would I even be able to see it? In
this place of magic wardrobes, unnaturally vibrant food, and lurking dragons, how could I trust my eyes or my senses?
Evander polished off two gyros and was on his third by the time the tunnel gave a gentle curve and ended in a single
wooden door set into the stone.
Was this it? What else could be at the end of this long, spooky tunnel besides a dungeon?
With shaking fingers, I rested my hand on the latch, and I glanced over my shoulder. Would Evander stop me?
He stood there, stuffing the last of his gyro in his mouth and chewing the bite as if he wanted to get through it before I
opened the door. Yet he remained where he was, making no move to forbid me from opening this door.
Heart pounding, my hands shaking so much the candlelight bounced around the walls, I tightened my grip on the latch and
tugged.
The door swung open so easily that I stumbled backwards. Instead of tumbling to the floor, I fell against a warm chest, one
of Evander’s hands lightly gripping my elbow while his other plucked the candle from my fingers before I could drop it.
My feet scrabbled against the stone as I tried to regain my balance. Evander steadied me, not letting go until I finally stood
on my own two feet again.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, not looking at him as my face burned.
Trying to regain my dignity, I faced the open door. The light of the candle fell a few feet within, illuminating what looked
like a pile of scrolls.
A weight sank in my chest. After the door had opened so easily, I should have known this couldn’t be the entrance to a
dungeon.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have a look around, even if I had the dragon’s steward peering over my shoulder the whole time.
I edged through the doorway, Evander following with the candle, and stared at the space around me.
The room stretched farther than the dim candlelight pierced, the edges blurring from gray into black. Piles of loose
parchments, bound books, and half-wound scrolls were strewn across the floor in the immediate vicinity of the door. Beyond
that, the mess of parchment was tamed into crates, set on shelves, or stashed in cubbies. Except for a patch near the door,
everything was coated in a layer of dust, which appeared to grow thicker at the edges of the room.
“It doesn’t appear that the magical cleaning works for this part of the mountain.” I tiptoed around the jumble near the door.
“This is just a store room. No reason it needs to be clean.” Evander stuck his hand into his pocket, fished around for a
moment, and withdrew what appeared to be a handful of loose parchments. He dumped them onto the mess.
I glanced from him to the pile by the floor. “You’re the dragon’s steward. Shouldn’t organizing in here be part of your job?”
“Yes, it is the steward’s job.” Evander shrugged, stepped around the mess, and joined me. “I have other priorities at the
moment.”
Cryptic. I shook my head and crept between the crates, trying not to stir up too much dust. Evander stuck by my side. Either
because he wanted to make sure I didn’t find anything I shouldn’t or because he was still holding my candle.
I glanced at some of the parchments and scrolls as I passed, though I didn’t dare pick any up to read openly while Evander
was with me.
Strangely, I could read a few lines, here or there. Was it the same magic that allowed me to understand Evander and all the
other fae? Except for the gnomes, that was.
What I could read didn’t seem all that helpful. A few lines about numbers of gems sent to various fae courts. A request for a
particular cut of diamond. A half-burned parchment containing what seemed to be a complaint about the inferior quality and
size of the gems sent to—the rest had been scorched away. A stark example of why I shouldn’t anger the dragon.
Maybe somewhere in this mess of papers I’d find records about the other sacrificed girls. But it would take me days,
weeks even, to read through all of this. Not to mention that with the layer of dust, the dragon or his steward would know if
someone had been in here, disturbing things.
I found the wall, then circled the room, searching for any additional tunnels branching farther into the mountain. A few
shelves were built against the walls. Was there a door hidden behind one of those shelves? A hidden dungeon?
A room filled with skeletons?
I rubbed my arms, somehow both cold and yet flushed with a sick heat all at once.
“Are you cold?” Evander stepped closer, reaching into his pocket.
“No, I’m fine.” I shook my head and hurried to put distance between me and the dragon’s all-too-loyal steward.
My movement was too fast, and dust puffed into the air. My nose prickled. Before I could stop it, a loud, unmaidenly sneeze
echoed through the room.
Behind me, Evander made a choking noise. He mumbled something that sounded like, “Pardon me,” before he dashed
behind the nearest set of shelves, taking the candle with him. No sooner had he gone out of sight, than a thunderous sneeze
reverberated through the room, along with a flare of light.
My eyes watered, and I sneezed three more times before the dust finally settled and I could get myself under control.
Wiping the tears streaming from my eyes, I tiptoed around the shelf to avoid stirring up more dust. I didn’t want to linger
there in the semi-darkness, away from the soothing candlelight.
On the other side, Evander batted at burning parchments on the shelf, the candle wobbling in his other hand as he held it
away from the shelves. A few drops of wax had spattered his fingers. He glanced at me, a sheepish tilt to his mouth. “I, uh,
bobbled the candle when I sneezed.”
“It was quite the sneeze.” I took the candle from him, holding it well away from all the flammable parchments on the
shelves around us. With him looking so boyishly embarrassed by accidentally setting the parchment on fire with the candle, it
was far too easy to tease him and worry over him than fear him as the dragon’s steward. “Don’t burn yourself.”
“I won’t.” Evander tugged the parchments from the shelf, dropped them on the floor, then stomped on them, snuffing out the
flames.
He did work for the dragon. He was probably used to dealing with minor burns or putting out fires without hurting himself.
How many times had Evander been burned by the dragon? Surely he had been, when the dragon lashed out in anger. That
burned parchment I’d seen was evidence that happened. If so, then why was Evander so loyal to him? Shouldn’t he fear the
dragon as much as I did?
Once the fire was out, Evander left the smoldering remnants of the parchments on the floor, stepping over them to rejoin me.
“I think we’d better exit before I cause any more destruction.”
I nodded and turned toward where I thought the door was. There wasn’t any point in searching here further. This room was
only filled with parchments and dust.
Evander strode in a slightly different direction, waving for me to follow. I did so, and he led the way back to the door and
the all-too-blank tunnel leading to this store room.
Once he’d closed the door behind me, he motioned me to proceed ahead of him. “Where would you like to explore now?”
“Another dark and secretive looking tunnel.” I eyed Evander. Would he dissuade me from exploring more?
“All right. I know just the one.” Evander grinned at me, then set off at a stroll down the passageway, his pace slow enough
that I could keep up without running.
As we exited into the central cavern with the waterfall roaring down into the pool at our feet, Daphne dashed from a tunnel
across the way, her gaze darting about. As she turned to us, her shoulders relaxed, and her face brightened. She raced over to
us, shedding leaves as she went. “Nessa! There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you! Everyone was so worried when
they returned, and you weren’t there.”
I opened my mouth, but my words stuck in my throat. With Evander at my side, I’d forgotten that I’d sneaked away without
telling anyone. Was wandering off a bigger mistake than I’d realized?
Evander had encouraged me to keep exploring. Had he been luring me into shirking my duties so that I would be punished
by the dragon?
He’d looked after my bleeding knuckles and fed me. Why would he go back to trying to trick me like this? It was exhausting
trying to keep up with when he was nice Evander and when he was the dragon’s steward Evander.
Was I about to find out the hard way what had happened to the other maidens?
Evander stepped out of the tunnel after me. “She was with me. I’m sorry we worried everyone. We’re going to explore
tunnels for the rest of the day.”
Daphne’s expression relaxed still further. “Oh, that’s all right, then. I’ll go tell the others you’ve been found.” She spun on
her heel, shouting even as she raced back into the tunnel she’d come from, “I found Nessa!”
“I should return to rock polishing.” I swallowed and broke into a hurried trot in the direction of that passageway. The
candle’s flame flickered, nearly going out, with the breeze of my movements, and I held up a hand to shield it.
Evander hurried to catch up. He stepped in front of me, forcing me to halt before I ran into him, though he didn’t touch me.
“Nessa, no one is angry with you. You’re free to keep exploring tunnels or go back to rock polishing. But you don’t have to
keep working because you’re scared the dragon will be angry. You’re safe here.”
I searched his face. Did I dare trust him? Or was this another test? What was the right answer to the test? Rock polishing or
tunnel exploring?
Argh. Being a sacrificial maiden had been far more straightforward when I thought I was going to be eaten. I hadn’t been
prepared for mind games.
“All right. Let’s keep exploring.” I forced a smile, though my shoulders still ached with tension. Hopefully the fact that I
stuck with Evander all day would spare me from the dragon’s wrath.
Evander returned my smile, though something almost like sadness glinted in his eyes before he turned away and pointed at a
dark opening a few yards away. “I was thinking we could wander down that one next.”
I nodded, letting him lead the way in that direction.
That tunnel turned out to be just as dark and blank as the previous one, though this one ended in a store room filled with
what appeared to be extra furniture.
Together, we strolled down several more tunnels. Most of the rooms we discovered were merely empty. Plenty of tunnels
just ended, seemingly going nowhere.
As the afternoon passed, it was strangely comfortable exploring with him, despite my fear that he would report all of this to
the dragon. He was such a solid, warm presence beside me in these otherwise cold and gray tunnels.
As we strolled down the last corridor, this one having ended in a deep pool of water, and headed back toward the waterfall
cavern, Evander glanced at me. “Do you have any siblings? What is your home like?”
I stumbled, the words banishing the comfortable warmth.
Once again, Evander had been luring me into a false sense of safety with him, making me lower my guard so that he could
gather information about my family in order for the dragon to make them disappear the way the families usually did a few
months after the Day of Sacrifice.
Evander reached out a hand, briefly steadying me, before he released me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You must miss
them.”
I nodded as we stepped into the waterfall cavern, savagely stuffing down the pang of missing my parents. The olive grove.
The safety and familiarity of home.
I blindly headed for the nearest tunnel, its opening smaller than most of the others.
Evander’s arm shot out, halting me. “Not that one.”
“Why not?” I dodged around his arm. Was this tunnel the one where Clarissa and the others were being held? Or where
their corpses had been stashed as if they were macabre trophies?
“It’s dangerous.” Evander moved to stand between me and the tunnel, but he didn’t grab me or otherwise physically stop
me.
“Is it dangerous? Or is it something the dragon doesn’t want me to see?” I clutched the candle holder, unable to force my
gaze higher than one of the ties zigzagging down the front of his leather jerkin. “I thought you said I wasn’t forbidden from
exploring.”
Evander opened his mouth, shut it, then sighed. “All right. But stick close to me.”
He ducked into the tunnel, and I hurried to keep up, the candle flickering.
Unlike the other tunnels I’d explored, this one was rough. Almost unfinished. Marks scored the walls, as if from carving
this corridor from the mountain. It was barely wide enough for Evander and me to walk side-by-side, and he had to duck his
head as we walked because the ceiling was so low.
After only a few yards, the lantern’s light fell on the solid rock before us.
I groaned and rested my hand against the stone of the mountain blocking our way. Another dead end. Did any of these
tunnels lead somewhere useful in this rabbit’s warren of a mountain? How was I ever supposed to find Clarissa and the others
if all I did was run into empty tunnels?
Evander turned, taking a few steps back the way we’d come. “See. Just a dead end. We should go.”
Perhaps I was fooling myself. Maybe Clarissa and the others were all dead, killed by the dragon for failing to be worthy of
his mysterious purpose. Her body had likely been dumped out there in those snowy mountains I saw from my window, left to be
consumed by wolves.
I drew back my foot, preparing to kick the stone.
Evander whirled, reaching for me. “No, don’t—”
I kicked the wall.
A shiver passed through the floor, even as gravel clattered down the walls. Four stone gremlins squished from the walls
around us, plopping onto the floor and waving their pincers at us.
I scrambled back. “What—”
A wave of stone gremlins poured from the wall, accompanied by the clack of pincers and the clatter of falling stones. The
stone gremlins rushed my feet. Something pinched my ankle, the pain sharp even through my boot. “Ow!”
I hopped back, kicking at the stone gremlins. But there were too many of them, and several more pinched my ankles and
toes.
 “Apologies for this.” Evander swept me into his arms, holding me high above the tide of stone gremlins.
He kicked the stone gremlins out of the way as he strode toward the tunnel’s exit. The stone gremlins must have been
pinching his ankles and toes, but he gave no sign of it besides occasionally pausing to shake one of the creatures off.
I peered around his arm, holding out the candle so he could see where he was going. “I thought you said stone gremlins are
harmless.”
“They are. Mostly.” Evander kicked another one out of his way. “They wander all through the stone of the mountain, and
one or two is nothing to worry about. But if you stumble across one of their nests, they can get riled.”
The tide of stone gremlins tumbled at his feet, clacking viciously and leaving gray smears across the stone floor.
As we exited the tunnel into the waterfall cavern, the bulk of the stone gremlins halted at the mouth of the tunnel in a
churning, agitated mass. The rest spilled out, oozing along the walls in an enraged swarm.
The sound of chanting rose above the globby, clacking noises of the stone gremlins a moment before ranks of gnomes
marched out of the tunnel with the creek, their hats pulled down to their noses. Boss Gob strode at their head, pointing with a
pickax even as he shouted in the gnome language.
The gnomes broke off into groups, heading off the stone gremlins and whacking them with their tools.
Behind the gnomes, several of the rock-polishing fae raced out of the tunnel, glanced around, then dashed to cut off the
stone gremlins, kicking them.
I huddled in Evander’s arms, the sensation oddly familiar and safe. He carried me swiftly into the tunnel across the way,
not setting me down until we reached the kitchen and gathering area.
As he set me on one of the benches, Phoebe bustled from the kitchen. “What happened? Is Nessa all right?”
“We stirred up the nest of stone gremlins in the abandoned tunnel.” Evander swept a look over me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just a couple of pinches.” I rubbed at my throbbing ankle, then froze. “Their pincers aren’t venomous or anything,
are they?”
“No, but ice will make the welts feel better.” Phoebe hurried toward the door.
“If you could stay with Nessa, I’ll send someone for ice. I need to—” Evander paused, glancing down at me. “I need to
fetch the dragon to clear them out.”
“Ah, of course.” Phoebe met Evander’s gaze for a moment before she turned back to me. “We’ll get you ice in no time,
don’t worry.”
She wasn’t going to comment on the fact that the dragon was about to come out in the middle of the day? I shrank onto the
bench, rubbing my ankles even as my breath caught.
Evander shot me one last look before he hurried back the way we’d come. Toward the stone gremlins and the dragon.
Phoebe sank onto the bench next to me. “Don’t worry. You’re safe here.”
I had let myself believe that, just for a moment, while in Evander’s arms.
But now, that fleeting feeling of wellbeing vanished. The dragon was coming out of his lair, and no one would be safe.
Should I make a run for my room? Or was I better off staying here? Perhaps I should squeeze my eyes shut until I knew it
was safe to look.
A roar echoed down the passageway a moment before the whole mountain trembled.
I hugged my knees to my chest, pressing my face into my skirt and trying to ignore the way the painful throbbing of the
pinches was growing worse.
Was this why Phoebe, Evander, and the others served the dragon? He protected them from the stone gremlins when a nest
was stirred up.
That still seemed like a paltry reason for their loyalty. That would be like keeping around a wolf to scare away hornets.
“I have some ice!” Daphne’s voice rang cheerily through the room, as if she was utterly not-terrified with the dragon
roaming about the mountain.
I peeked over my knees as she plopped onto the bench next to me, her hands clad in mittens and clutching a hunk of icicles,
as if she’d broken off a chunk of the ice I had seen drooling down the cliffs from my window.
On my other side, Phoebe rested a hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right. Let’s get your boots and stockings off.”
It felt especially dangerous taking off my shoes, hampering my ability to run away, with the dragon loose.
But the spots where the stone gremlins had gotten me were only hurting worse and worse.
I tugged off my boots, then the stockings, revealing several red and swelling welts dotting my ankles and feet.
Daphne slammed the icicle on the edge of the table, sending shards of ice scattering onto the floor. She handed the two
largest pieces to Phoebe, who wrapped them in towels before she handed them to me.
I pressed the ice to the welts, sighing as the cold soothed the throbbing.
Evander strolled into the room, looking no worse for the wear for having been around the dragon. I wasn’t sure what I had
expected. Burned patches in his tunic, perhaps? A torn sleeve or two? Instead, he had an extra saunter to his step before he
lounged on the bench across from me. “The stone gremlins have been chased back into their nest.”
“Good.” Daphne shuddered, shaking a few leaves from her hair to drift down onto my lap. “I don’t like stone gremlins.
They’re like giant, globby spiders, and I’d rather someone else dispatch them.”
So would I, though if I had a choice between the dragon and the stone gremlins, I’d pick stone gremlins every time.
I held out one of the melting, soggy-towel-wrapped ice chunks to Evander. “Would you like one? The stone gremlins
probably got you even worse than they got me.”
Evander blinked at me, then shook his head, waving my hand away. “I’m fine. My boots are thicker leather than yours so
they protected me.”
That was probably true. Either that, or he was being especially chivalrous at the moment.
I pressed the ice on one of my welts once again, shifting my grip since my fingers were going numb from holding the ice.
I could only hope the dragon would be in a merciful mood tonight after I shirked my duties and stirred up a nest of stone
gremlins, disturbing him from whatever he did during the day to clean up my mess.

I WAITED FOR THE DRAGON , curling on my bed and hugging my knees to my chest. I’d dared to wander his fortress, had
neglected my rock polishing—the one job he’d assigned me to do—and poked a nest of stone gremlins. What would my
punishment be? Evander had assured me that I was safe. That the dragon wouldn’t be angry about today.
But I couldn’t believe him. This was the dragon we were talking about. The one who demanded maiden sacrifices or he’d
burn down Thysia.
Would Evander simply not tell him? Would he keep a secret from the dragonlord if it meant keeping me safe?
The knock sounded on my door, and the dragon’s voice came from the other side. “May I come in?”
I forced the word out between my chattering teeth. “Yes.”
The door swung open, revealing the dragon’s dark form silhouetted against the faint light from the distant torches. “I heard
you had quite the adventure today.”
Evander must have told him. I shouldn’t feel such a twisting inside my chest, as if in betrayal. I’d known Evander was loyal
to the dragon. Of course he’d tell the dragon everything.
But it still hurt, just a little bit. A part of me had hoped he wouldn’t tell the dragon what I’d done today.
There was no sense in trying to deny anything. All I could do was throw myself upon the dragon’s suspect mercy and hope
my infraction had not been too severe.
“I’m sorry I wandered off. And that I disturbed those stone gremlins. I won’t do it again. I’ll do nothing but polish rocks
from now on.” I hugged my knees to my chest so tightly I was cutting off circulation to my feet.
“I’m not angry. You’re free to wander the mountain as you wish.” The dragon shifted, his wings making that scaly scraping
sound against stone that shivered down my spine. “I would suggest you take someone with you, if you wander again. As you
experienced today, not all of the tunnels are safe.”
Was that a threat that I must have a guard with me at all times to prevent me from going places I shouldn’t, even as he
pretended kindness?
“I…I won’t explore without a guard.” The words tasted bitter as ash on my tongue. How was I supposed to search for clues
as to what happened to the other maidens if I was always watched?
Even if I sneaked away from my guard, what would happen if I was caught again? The dragon seemed inclined to show me
mercy today—either that or he enjoyed toying with me—but I couldn’t depend on him doing so again.
He gusted a sigh, as if wearied by dealing with a wayward maiden. “Will you light the candle tonight?”
Not a chance. I had already risked my life enough for one day. I wasn’t even tempted to reach for that candle. “Nope.”
Another sigh, softer this time. “Then I’ll take my leave. Goodnight.” The door snicked closed behind him.
That had been far too close. I couldn’t even feel relief at being spared for another night. The constant fear was bad enough.
But this show of kindness that toyed with that fear was even worse.
 Chapter Seven

Funny how easily humans adapt. After three weeks, polishing stones mined by chanting gnomes, chatting with
Daphne the laurel dryad, eating breakfast with Evander the dragon’s steward, and fighting off stone gremlins
all settled into a strangely normal rhythm.
Even talking with the dragon each night was becoming almost mundane.
Sure, I was homesick. I missed my parents and the olive grove more than I could say. I still hadn’t found
any clues as to the whereabouts of the maidens before me. I was still always on edge waiting for the dragon to
declare I’d somehow failed and now he was going to eat me or otherwise dispose of me.
Still, even that fear was losing its raw edges to the numbing monotony of routine.
The perfect time to strike, of course. Right when I started to let down my guard.

sat on my bed, waiting for the dragon to arrive. As always, a new candle waited on the table beside my bed, as if tempting
I me to light it. All I’d have to do was hold the wick to the faint embers of the fire in the hearth, and the candle would catch.
But I wouldn’t light it. I’d pass the dragon’s test yet again.
It was growing rather tiresome, really. I kept passing his test. You’d think he’d stop asking and finally declare I’d passed
and move on to the next step of his purpose, whatever it was. But no, it was just the same thing, night after night.
As expected, the knock sounded on my door once it was fully dark. The dragon’s voice rumbled low and growling, “May I
come in?”
Persisting in the façade of politeness. But I didn’t have to swallow this time before I called out, “Yes.”
Once again, the door opened, and the dragon’s black silhouette stood there, barely discernible from the darkness due to the
faint light from the lamps at the very far end of the tunnel.
Perhaps it was his strange courtesy that gave me the spine I needed. Or perhaps it was the fact that I wasn’t dead yet and
he’d done nothing to me, despite every opportunity otherwise. “Why do you keep testing me? I’ve been passing your test every
night for three weeks.”
“Who said it is a test? Perhaps I genuinely want you to light the candle.”
I shook my head. No, that couldn’t be true. I’d grown up being taught that no one was allowed to look upon the dragon’s
face. My village elders and my parents couldn’t all be wrong.
“See, like that. That was clever, but you can stop trying to trick me as part of a test.” I gestured from him to myself, though
he likely wouldn’t see more than vague movement in the darkness. “I’ve passed every test you’ve thrown at me. What do I have
to do to prove that I’m worthy for whatever purpose you have for me?”
“Perhaps you’re asking the wrong question.” The dragon’s voice rumbled low through the darkness. “Have you ever asked
if I’m worthy?”
I blinked, his words making little sense. He was the dragon. Why should he have to prove anything to me? It wasn’t my
place to question why the dragon did what he did. Or so the village elders had warned me. “What do you mean?”
“Your village sacrifices a maiden to me every year. Shouldn’t they make sure that I’m worthy of such a sacrifice?”
“It isn’t about being worthy! It’s about making sure you don’t sweep down from the mountain and burn our village and our
olive trees to the ground.” I wasn’t sure why I had to explain this to him. He was the dragon. He was the one making these
demands. He shouldn’t need me to tell him this. “It’s about appeasing you.”
 “That’s a sad reason for such sacrifices.” The dragon crossed his arms, leaning against the doorjamb in a way that sent his
wings scraping against the stones of the corridor outside. “Your village is in bondage, sacrificing maidens to appease an angry
dragon. If you’re going to give such devotion and such sacrifice, shouldn’t it be to something or someone greater than yourself?
More worthy? If you’re going to be devoted to someone, shouldn’t it be to one who will freely sacrifice for you instead of
demanding such bloody sacrifices from you to earn his good will?”
I opened my mouth, gaped like a dying seabass for a moment, then forced my mouth closed.
What was I supposed to say to that? Deep down, weren’t those the same doubts I’d always had? That the cost of sacrificing
to the dragon wasn’t worth it. That Clarissa’s death—or whatever had happened to her—hadn’t been worth it.
But it shook me to hear those doubts voiced by the dragon himself.
This had to be another test. He was trying to make me doubt.
“But I…my parents…” I squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing my temples. “This isn’t right. It isn’t what I’ve been told.”
“Who should you believe? Your village elders who claim to know my word or my word directly from me?”
That made far too much sense. And it didn’t sit right that it made sense.
“Will you light the candle?”
“No.” The word came out far weaker, more doubt-filled than it ever had the previous nights.
But it still must have been enough. The dragon nodded and left, closing the door softly behind him.

I PICKED at my breakfast of pink toast and green eggs the next morning, the dragon’s words still ringing in my head.
Daphne plopped onto the seat next to me. “Did you look outside this morning?”
I glanced at the broad windows. Through the glass, I could see the same white and gray mountains as always. “Not really.
Why?”
“It snowed last night!” Daphne pulled a cloak, hat, mittens, and scarf out of a pocket.
I wasn’t sure what to comment on first. I decided on pointing at her pocket. “How did you do that? There’s no way that
pocket is big enough for all of that.”
“It’s a magic pocket, of course! Oh, right, you don’t have those in the Human Realm. You just have ordinary pockets. So
strange.” Daphne piled the items on the table. “The magic pockets can fit just about anything. Just don’t put anything living into
one of the magic pockets. It won’t be living when you take it out again.”
“Thanks. Noted.” I resisted the urge to shudder.
That would explain where the dragon had gotten that massive blanket on the night he’d taken me—rescued me?—from the
stone. He must have pulled it from one of these magic pockets.
Not to mention Evander’s pocket gyros. A perfectly reasonable use for magical pockets, come to think of it. I’d walk
around with my pockets stuffed with emergency snacks too, if I had magic pockets. Which, apparently, I did. Next time Phoebe
set out desserts, I was going to snatch a few extras.
“Try it for yourself. It’s standard to store warm clothes in the magic pockets.” Daphne pointed to the pocket in the side of
my blue wool dress. “If not, your wardrobe in your room will probably have something. It sizes everything for you, and you
can ask it for whatever you need. You’ll want the warm clothing. It snowed last night, and it’s sunny. A good day for a romp
outside.”
The way she said it, sharing a smile with me, almost implied that I would be allowed outside. But that couldn’t be right,
could it? Phoebe and Evander had taken great pains to tell me not to leave the day I’d arrived. Sure, they’d pretended it was
because it would be safer for me if I didn’t. But what else could they mean but that I couldn’t leave without angering the
dragon?
Holding my breath, I plunged my hand into the pocket anyway. My hand went down, down, down until I was up to my
elbow in this pocket. My fingers brushed all kinds of random things. At least none of it felt slimy or scaly. Otherwise, I would
have yanked my hand out of there so fast I would have probably ripped the seams of the pocket.
“Think about what you want to pull out of the pocket.” Evander sat across the table from me, a hint of a smile easing the
line of his square jaw.
Cloak. Hat. Mittens. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to keep those things at the front of my mind.
Just like that, my hand was filled with something soft. I pulled my arm and hand free of the pocket, finding that I was
holding a bundle of something soft and blue. I had to keep pulling until the full thing came free of the pocket.
A blue cloak only a shade or two darker than my dress lay across my lap, along with a matching hat and mittens.
Huh. That actually worked.
What did it mean that my pocket had items that were only useful for the outdoors? Was it a fluke? Or was I allowed to go
outside?
“Bundle up. You won’t want to miss the stroll outside.” Evander stuffed his own bite of toast into his mouth, chewing
quickly as if he was just as eager as everyone else.
Maybe I was only allowed outside if I was escorted by Evander. That would make sense, since that same rule held true for
exploring inside the mountain. He could keep an eye on me and report whatever I did to the dragon.
I hadn’t been outside in the past three weeks. Not since the night the dragon had taken me from my world. It would be good
to breathe fresh air again and see the sky besides the glimpse I got through the opening around the waterfall.
After hurriedly eating my breakfast, I joined everyone headed for the tunnel that led to the outdoors—including Evander,
Daphne, several of the faun footmen, and other stone polishing workers.
As we turned down the tunnel, a stirring of a cold breeze brushed my neck. I paused and shook out the fur-lined cloak. I
struggled to sweep it around my shoulders while still holding the hat and mittens.
“May I help?” Evander waited until I nodded before he took the cloak from me and placed it over my shoulders.
I fumbled to clasp the cloak, all too aware of him behind me. Yet it wasn’t the prickling-at-the-back-of-my-neck, need-to-
escape kind of awareness.
No, this was the awareness of strength and safety that made me want to lean back into him, reveling in the feel of his large,
warm hands on my shoulders as he held the cloak steady for me.
I had been spending way too much time exploring tunnels with him if I was starting to see him as safe.
Giving myself a shake, I clasped the cloak and took a step away from him to put space between us.
Evander took a step back of his own, then continued down the tunnel. At the far end, a pair of doors blocked the way,
though a crack of light showed around them. Drafts of cold air swirled at the end of the tunnel.
I tugged on the hat and mittens, then glanced at Evander. He still wore only his normal blue tunic, leather jerkin, and gray
breeches. He hadn’t donned a cloak, much less hat, mittens, or anything else to ward off the chill. “Aren’t you going to be
cold?”
“No. I don’t get cold easily.” Evander shrugged, then pushed one of the doors open.
A blast of cold air struck me, snatching my breath, and I pulled the cloak tighter around me. “I don’t know how. It’s freezing
out there.”
“You’re used to the temperate climate of your home.” Evander stepped outside without so much as a shiver. “I’m a fae of
the Winter Courts. This doesn’t feel as cold to me as it does to you.”
It still felt plenty cold to me. I had no idea how he wasn’t shivering right now.
As we stepped outside, I drew in a deep breath of the crisp, pine-scented air, so different from the salty, warm air of my
home. I’d never smelled anything like it.
Ahead of us, a path wound between stands of tall pines. Snow coated each of the pine needles in white and piled on either
side of a dirt path. Despite all the snow and the sunshine, the path was cleared of snow, the dirt dry and free of mud and
puddles.
Daphne trotted past us, so bundled up in fur-lined wool that only her eyes were visible. “Come on!”
She led the way down the dirt path. While several of the others kept going, Daphne, Evander, and most of the people turned
off into a clearing surrounded by thick evergreens. A thick layer of snow blanketed the clearing, shimmering so brightly in the
sunlight that I had to squint.
I’d never seen so much snow. The rare snowfall we got in our village was mushy and gloppy, the kind that disappeared
within a day, if not a few hours.
I glanced at Evander, then bent to scoop up a snowball. But this snow didn’t pack into a neat ball. It just crumbled against
my mittens, too fine a powder to actually stick together.
Evander halted and grinned. “It’s too cold. This isn’t good packing snow.”
I’d never realized there were different kinds of snow.
Daphne scooped a handful of the powder and tossed it at one of the footmen. He retaliated by flinging snow back in her
direction.
Some of the others had flopped in the snow and started waving their arms, making patterns.
It all looked fun, but a little overwhelming.
Evander glanced from the chaos churning up the beauty of the clearing, then back to me. He cupped my elbow and tugged
me gently toward the forest surrounding the clearing. “Would you like to explore somewhere quieter?”
After all the time spent wandering dark tunnels alone with Evander, I didn’t hesitate to nod and hurry to keep up with his
longer strides. He might not be safe when it came to telling the dragon stuff I’d rather he didn’t, but he wasn’t going to hurt me
himself.
We worked our way between the spruce trees, our boots crunching on a layer of pine needles. The snow was only a dusting
here, where the evergreens kept most of the snow from reaching the ground.
My calves burned as we climbed a slight rise. The trees fell away, and Evander motioned to me before he slid onto his
stomach on the rocks, heedless of the snow and wet.
Well, if he could lie there in nothing but his regular clothes, then I would be fine, bundled up as I was.
 I lowered myself onto my hands and knees, then shimmied higher onto the rocks so that I could see over them. I squirmed
into a comfortable position, my shoulder brushing Evander’s. Here, we had a view of a series of rocky ledges, limned with
snow.
Evander lifted a hand slowly, then pointed. “Keep a watch there. You might be able to catch a glimpse of…there!”
A flash of gold shimmered against one of the rocky ledges briefly before disappearing.
“What was that?”
“One of the magical sheep that live in these mountains. Their golden fleece is highly prized in the Fae Realm.” Evander
kept his gaze focused on the far ridge.
Gold flashed again, then a shaggy sheep with wool formed of long, golden ringlets appeared on one of the rocky ledges. I
wasn’t sure if the sheep had simply moved really fast or if it had somehow moved from one place to another using magic. In
this realm, anything seemed possible.
As we watched, more sheep flashed onto the ridge, grazing on the tiny patches of grass growing between the rocks. One of
the sheep had a lamb bounding along behind her.
My breath caught in my throat at the wonder of it. I’d never dreamed I’d see sights like this. Magical sheep. Golden fleece.
Conversations with a dragon.
My concept of the world had gotten so much bigger than it had been when I’d been a simple village girl.
Did that mean my concepts of who and what the dragon was should change? Perhaps he’d been right. Perhaps I should
believe his word over what the village elders claimed was his word.
My heart ached, my throat choking at the memories of my parents. How I wished I could speak with them. Surely they
would be able to help me sort out this confusion.
I hadn’t realized I’d been sniffing in my attempt to hold back the homesickness until Evander glanced at me, one of his
hands reaching for me, though he stopped short of touching me. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Just…” I swiped my mitten over my face, replacing the hot tears with cold flecks of ice. I hadn’t cried since being
snatched by the dragon, and I wasn’t about to become a weak, sniveling damsel in distress now. “I miss my parents. They think
I’m dead. I can’t even tell them I’m alive.”
Evander dropped his hand, though he held my gaze. “You can visit them. Ask the dragon. He’ll take you.”
“He would?” I hadn’t even thought to ask the dragon for such a thing.
Surely if going home was that easy, one of the others would have done it. Clarissa would have done it.
Was this yet another test? A temptation?
I was so tired of always questioning, always suspecting everything. A part of me just wanted to fail the dragon’s tests and
get it all over with. None of the others had succeeded, so why did I think I was special enough to avoid failure?
There was only one way to find out if this was a test. I’d have to ask the dragon to take me for a visit home. Even if he
agreed, what would I have to promise in exchange? Maybe that I wouldn’t speak to anyone but my parents? A promise that I
wouldn’t try to escape?
It didn’t matter. I’d agree to nearly anything to see my parents again.
“There’s just something you need to know before you visit.” Evander paused, finally dropping his gaze to focus on the
sheep again. “Time doesn’t move the same way between the realms. While three weeks have passed here, months have passed
in the Human Realm.”
“My parents have believed me dead for months?” I couldn’t help the way my voice rose at the end.
The sheep on the far ridge froze. It shouldn’t have been possible for them to hear me from so far away. But several of them
flashed away, followed by the rest of them.
Evander’s mouth twitched. “And that’s why the golden fleece is so hard to come by.” The smile faded as he dragged his
gaze back to mine. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
My parents had been suffering for months. Three weeks was long enough as it was. But months?
No matter how scary it was, I would have to ask the dragon to take me home for a visit.
 Chapter Eight

You are probably screaming at me right now. You can see all the signs that I didn’t see. It is rather obvious,
looking back.
But you can’t blame me if I didn’t see it back then. After all, this situation was nothing like what I’d been
told it would be.

n my dark room that night, I paced beside my bed as I waited for the dragon to arrive. My stomach churned, and I struggled
I to keep my breathing even. I wasn’t sure if I was as afraid as the night I’d been sacrificed to the dragon, but it was close.
There was the knock on my door. The dragon’s growly voice asking permission to enter.
I pulled my shoulders straight, clenched my fists, and faced the door. I’d confront the dragon in possession of my dignity.
“Come in.”
The dragon stepped inside, though he halted at the door as always.
“Your steward mentioned that you would be willing to bring me home to visit my parents.” I refused to shrink, even as I
could feel the weight of his gaze in the darkness.
“I’d be happy to take you home for a visit.” The dragon’s response was almost too fast, as if he had been expecting the
request.
Of course he had. As always, Evander’s first loyalty lay with the dragon, not with me.
“Whatever you want from me in exchange, I’ll do it.” I kept my voice level, with the same unconcerned tone I’d use when
haggling for salt in the village market.
“I don’t require anything in return.” His voice dropped lower, though it was still too harsh to be considered soft. “It’s the
least I can do for you.”
Somehow, I doubted the dragon’s kindness came without strings. But I was going to take him up on it anyway.
“Thank you.” I couldn’t force my fingers to unclench. “When can you take me?”
“Tonight, if you’re ready.”
That was even better than I’d been hoping for. The sooner I could visit my parents, reassure them that I was alive, and
discuss the confusing jumble in my head, the better. “Yes, I would like that.”
The dragon’s silhouette made some kind of gesture toward me in the darkness. “You’ll want to bundle up. It’s frigid
outside, especially in the air.”
In the air. We’d be flying again.
I gulped, but I pulled on the cloak, mittens, and hat that I’d worn earlier that day. I missed the feel of Evander’s hands
holding the cloak steady.
If only I had asked if Evander could go with me tonight. It would be reassuring to have him at my side so that I wasn’t alone
with the dragon.
Could the dragon fly while carrying two people? I wasn’t that big, but Evander was tall and muscular.
Oh, well. It was too late now. I wasn’t about to test the dragon’s kindness by asking him to wait while I searched for
Evander. I didn’t even know which room was Evander’s.
Terrifying as it was, I’d have to go alone with the dragon.
Surely Evander wouldn’t have suggested I ask the dragon if he thought doing so would put me in danger. His loyalty might
be with the dragon, but surely I wasn’t imagining the safety I felt around him.
As soon as I was ready, the dragon turned back toward the corridor. “Come along.”
I forced myself to follow him, trying to ignore the sharp scrape of his wings against the stone walls and ceiling, a reminder
that I was in this dark corridor with a monster.
Instead of heading for the tunnel to the outside, the dragon halted inside the cavern with the waterfall pouring down along
with way too much moonlight for comfort.
As the dragon turned back around, I quickly squeezed my eyes shut. I’d see his face if I looked at him now.
“I need to pick you up. Is that all right?” The dragon’s voice came closer as he spoke.
“Yes.” My voice squeaked. Ugh, I hated how scared I sounded. I’d volunteered for this. I was going to see my parents
again. I couldn’t shirk now.
The dragon’s strong arms wrapped around my back and under my knees, lifting me as easily as if I were a child. As he
cradled me against his chest, I found myself relaxing rather than tensing. As if my instincts were telling me he was safe.
Why? Why would I find the dragon safe?
The dragon’s grip tightened, his body tensing. Then his wings beat the air, and he launched himself upward.
We climbed higher, the roar of the waterfall growing louder. Mist washed against my face, droplets spattering my hair.
Then we were outside, cold air tearing at my cloak and any exposed skin.
I tucked myself tighter against the dragon. He was toasty warm, despite the cold.
I didn’t open my eyes. It was easier to avoid looking at the dragon’s face if I didn’t peek. The view was probably
spectacular, but I instead envisioned the craggy peaks I’d seen earlier in the day, the golden sheep prancing about the ledges,
Evander’s warmth near me…
Then the dragon was landing with a jolt. “We’re here.”
Already?
I peered out, realizing the air had grown significantly warmer. I was nearly roasting, pressed up against the dragon and
wrapped in my cloak.
Around us, the gangling arms of my familiar olive grove rose dark and twisting in the moonlight. They no longer hung heavy
with olives ready for picking. Instead, they bloomed with copious flowers, the sweet scent hanging heavy in the warm night.
I squirmed out of the dragon’s arms, and he set me down. I kept my back to him as I quickly pulled off the mittens, hat, and
cloak and stuffed all of them into the magical pocket.
“One thing before you go.” The dragon’s voice rumbled through the night, his presence seemingly too large, too much, for
this familiar olive grove. “Fear is powerful. It can make people say or do things they wouldn’t normally do.”
What was he talking about? Was he threatening me not to escape? I hugged my arms over my stomach. “Is that a warning?”
“Yes.” The dragon’s deep growl washed hot against the back of my neck. “I will wait here for your return.”
Despite the warmth of the night, I resisted the urge to shiver. What would happen if I didn’t return? Would the dragon track
me down? Burn our olive grove?
“I won’t be gone long.” I strode through the olive grove. Once I was out of sight, I took a moment to sniff one of the flowers
while I rolled up the sleeves of my wool dress. Perhaps I should have worn that purple dress instead of the wool one I’d been
given in the Fae Realm.
Between the trees, I caught glimpses of our tiny cottage, the shuttered windows glowing yellow from candlelight within.
Heart in my throat, I halted in front of our door, raised my hand, and just stood there for a long moment, trying to work up
the courage to knock. I wasn’t even sure why I was hesitating. These were my parents. They would be happy to see me.
But a weight was sitting in the pit of my stomach.
With a deep breath, I knocked. Once. Twice.
Then the door swung open, and Bapi stood there, his face more drawn and haggard than I’d ever seen.
For an aching moment, he stared at me as if his mind couldn’t register what he was seeing. Then his eyes widened.
“Nessa!”
“It’s me, Bapi.” I stepped forward and hugged him. He smelled of earth and sweat and olives. The best smell in the world.
It was long seconds before his arms came around me, as if he thought I was a ghost rather than his daughter, returned alive and
well.
“Nessa?” Mama stood in the center of the room, her hands pressed over her mouth.
“Mama. I’m alive. I’m all right.” I hurried into our cottage and hugged my mama, my throat choking with tears of my own.
Weeks ago, I’d thought I’d never see my parents again. It was almost surreal to hug them again.
Bapi closed the door with a soft click, still staring at me with such shock that he almost looked lost. Broken and small in a
way I’d never seen my bapi look before.
In my arms, my mama shook, tears welling before spilling down her face, my name a murmur between her hushed sobs. Her
arms around me were clutching, as if she was trying to hold a dream before daylight banished it.
I glanced between them, patting Mama’s back. “I have so much to tell you. The dragon isn’t—”
 Mama’s face washed white as she shoved away from me. “No!”
I froze. “No?”
“No, don’t tell us. You must not tell us!” Mama’s tears dried against her pale face, her hands shaking even more than they
had at her first sight of me. “You must not tell us anything about the dragon. It’s forbidden.”
“That’s just it. The dragon isn’t like what we thought.” I rushed on, even while Mama shook her head, and Bapi wrapped an
arm over her shoulders, his own face a mask of wide eyes and pallid cheeks. “He hasn’t hurt me. He doesn’t seem to want to
harm the village. He keeps telling me to light a candle and look upon his face—”
Mama gripped my shoulders, her fingers digging into my arms. “Nessa, promise me. You must not look upon his face. You
must not light that candle. You would be in danger.”
“But…it…he…” I wasn’t even sure how to explain. I’d come here looking for clarity, but my parents weren’t helping at
all.
If anything, seeing my parents’ terror, I felt the disconnect even more keenly. I’d been trying to be a good maiden sacrifice
and follow what I’d been taught, but in the past three weeks, I’d grown. The dragon had prompted me to think more deeply
about my beliefs.
“How did you get here? Did you escape the dragon?” Mama’s eyes were so wide they were like twin moons in her starkly
white face, her gaze unfocused as if she wasn’t even seeing me there in front of her. “You must go back. You were given to the
dragon. He will be angry if you escape. Perhaps if you hurry back, he won’t know you were gone.”
I opened my mouth to tell them the dragon had been the one to bring me, but I snapped my mouth shut. I didn’t think they
would believe me if I told them. They were too wrapped up in terror of the dragon to listen to a word I said.
Mama shoved me toward the door. “You must not let anyone see you here.”
Bapi opened the door for me, his voice low and pained. “You must go.”
“All right, Mama, Bapi. I’ll go.” Somehow, I kept my voice steady. Somehow, I managed to hug each of them and tumble
out the door. I stumbled my way back through the olive grove.
By the time I reached the dragon, my eyes were too blurred with tears to see his face. I choked on sobs. Shook with them.
“My parents…they…”
The hazy form gave a nod, as if he’d expected this.
Of course he had. He’d warned me that this would happen. I just hadn’t believed him, thinking his words were a threat
instead of a kindness.
If I’d been wrong about those words, how many of the other things he’d told me should I have believed all along?
The dragon placed a cloak over my shoulders before he scooped me up in the safety of his arms.
I buried my face in his tunic and let myself cry as I hadn’t cried even on the night he’d taken me from the stone in the forest.
I didn’t remember anything of the flight back to the dragon’s castle. Much like that first night, I didn’t register much until the
dragon was setting me down on the bed in my chamber.
As soon as I was safely deposited, the dragon backed away, giving me space, as he always did. He started to turn, as if to
leave.
“Wait! Don’t go!” I swiped the tears from my face with my sleeve.
The dragon halted, then turned to more fully face me again. In the darkness of my room, I couldn’t see his face.
But it was time I did so.
I’d lived with fear of the dragon and of seeing his face my whole life.
But it was wrong. The village elders, my parents, our whole village, were wrong about the dragon. It was time I stopped
playing mind games with myself, trying to twist the evidence I saw with my own eyes to fit the fear I’d been raised to feel.
Tonight, my parents had proved just how damaging the fear was.
I was done being afraid.
With steady fingers, a peace settling in my chest, I reached for the candle. While the dragon watched me, his arms crossed,
I lit the candle.
 Chapter Nine

I thought it had been faith to cling to what the village elders had taught growing up, despite seeing the truth
from the dragon’s word.
But it took far more faith to believe the dragon’s word and light that candle.

he wick flared to life, and I lifted the candle high, shining the light onto the dragon’s face.
T Evander stood there in his familiar blue tunic. Yet the wings fluttering behind his back were foreign to the Evander I
knew. Something about his face was also sharper, more reptilian and less human. Or less fae, rather. Even his eyes were
different. Still blue, but now streaked with amber.
Perhaps I should have been surprised, seeing him there where the dragon should be. But the sight of him was so strangely
right even as it was so wrongly strange that there was no room for surprise.
His shoulders relaxed as he released a breath. “Finally.”
“So…nothing bad is going to happen, right?” My fingers trembled as I set the candle on the table beside the bed, a bitter
tightness still quaking through me. As much as I wished, I couldn’t immediately banish that old fear from being taught that
something bad would happen if I looked at the dragon’s face. It was a struggle to meet Evander’s gaze when everything in me
wanted to squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m not about to get swept away to face tedious trials because I lit the candle? Or you’re not
going to be called away because of some curse you’re under?”
“Nope. No curse. No tedious trials.” Evander’s mouth curved into his familiar, warm smile, his words holding a hint of his
chuckle, though it was deeper and more growling in this form. A glimpse of fangs glinted in the candlelight as he spoke. “All
that’s going to happen is that I’ll finally explain what’s going on.”
“Oh, good. I was hoping as much.” I crossed my legs and rested my hands in my lap, not sure what I felt. Mostly too numb
and wrung out after the ups and downs of the night to feel much of anything besides the burning need for the truth.
“It’s a long story. Would you rather wait until daylight after you’ve had a full night’s sleep?” Evander gestured to me.
“You’ve already had a tumultuous night.”
A part of me was shutting down, freezing, under the onslaught of the night. All I wanted to do was huddle under a blanket
and hide as I’d done when I was first brought here. But there was no going back. I had to face the truths of this night.
“I’m not going to sleep anyway, so you might as well tell me.” I shifted on my bed. Should I offer Evander a seat, if the
story was that long? The thought of facing him across my bed, him looking far too much a dragon, his wings hogging most of the
space in the room, squeezed my chest and throat.
He was Evander, and yet he was the dragon.
“In that case, would you mind going to the main room down the hall? There are more comfortable chairs, more light, and
we can snag snacks from the kitchen.” Evander waved toward the corridor.
The invitation was so very Evander that it calmed the shaking inside me.
I hopped to my feet, ready to latch on to an alternative that didn’t involve having this discussion in my bedchamber. “You
had me at snacks.”
“I should have led with that.” Evander took a step into the corridor, then halted again. “Do you mind if I shift back to my fae
form? It might look a bit strange for a moment, but we’ll both be more comfortable if I don’t have to worry about accidentally
whacking you with my wings. They can be such a bother in tight spots.”
 “Go ahead.” I crossed the room, my gaze locked on him. I needed to see this, no matter how strange. “I was beginning to
wonder if you could shift or if you were stuck this way at night.”
“Nope, not stuck. Just living up to the expectation of what a scary dragon should look and sound like.” Evander went still
for a moment. His wings shrank while that reptilian something shifted in his face, returning back to the square jaw and strong
cheekbones that I was used to seeing. When he opened his eyes and spoke once again, his voice was back to its normal tones.
“Letting my dragon show also helps disguise my voice.”
“But why do it? Why purposefully keep me scared?” I trotted to keep up as Evander strode down the corridor. “Why do any
of this?”
It didn’t make sense. Evander wasn’t the type to go around demanding maidens. For that matter, what had happened to all
the others? I knew for a fact that Evander hadn’t eaten them. He’d told me they were safe—and I actually believed him now—
but what did that mean?
“Like I said, long story.” Evander shook his head, his mouth quirked in a wry grimace. “Trust me. It will make more sense
if I tell it in order. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this.”
“Then the others are alive?” Even trusting Evander, knowing he wouldn’t have hurt the others, I needed to hear it from him.
The hope ached inside my chest. “I had a friend. Clarissa. She was sacrificed five years ago. Well, five years ago in the Human
Realm. I don’t know how long ago it was for you.”
“She’s alive and well. I can take you to see her. Tomorrow, perhaps. Once you’ve had a chance to sleep in. Tonight will be
late.” Evander rolled his shoulders, but the grimace disappeared into the smile that softened the hard edges of his strongly
featured face.
I could see Clarissa tomorrow. All these weeks, and Clarissa had been so close.
Why hadn’t Evander offered before? Then again, I hadn’t mentioned Clarissa before. I’d been too scared to give away any
information to the dragon or his minions.
As we reached the kitchen, we found it already lit with candles. Even the massive fireplace at the far end crackled with a
low fire, as if waiting for guests to snuggle up in the chairs before it.
Phoebe bustled around, both a gusting whirlwind and a soothing zephyr at the same time. She turned around, already
holding a tray piled with sweet breads, desserts, and two mugs of something steaming and hot. “I heard the two of you talking
and saw you fly off earlier. I figured tonight would be the night.”
“It was.” Evander’s smile widened as he took the tray. “Thank you, Phoebe.”
“You’re one of them. Of us.” I froze where I was, gaping at Phoebe. All this time, how hadn’t I put it together? A human in
the dragon’s castle. Then again, I’d been so focused on her being the dragon’s minion that I’d lumped her in with everyone else.
“Yes, I was.” Phoebe smoothed her hands over her apron, something in her face sad yet peaceful. “It was seventy or so
years ago in the Human Realm. Less than thirty years here.”
Right. The time moving differently thing.
“Like you, I was afraid to look at the dragon’s face. But eventually, Evander won me over, and I lit the candle.” Phoebe
gave a shrug, looking away from me. “There was nothing left for me back in the Human Realm. My parents had both died from
a disease that swept through Thysia shortly before I was sacrificed. I wasn’t chosen by lottery. I was picked because the
village thought I was tainted. Why should I return to a village that was willing to sacrifice me to a dragon, thinking I was going
to be eaten? So I decided to stay. After all, someone needed to look after this one.”
Evander squirmed under her gaze. “I’m grateful for your help all these years.”
“Wait, if it’s been so many years, shouldn’t you be…older?” I gestured to Evander.
According to Phoebe, it had been over thirty years here in the Fae Realm that my village had been sacrificing maidens to
the dragon. But Evander didn’t look much older than thirty, putting him only a few years older than me.
I would have thought the Fae Realm stopped aging, but Phoebe had aged.
Evander shrugged. “I’m a dragon. We Greater Dragons don’t age as quickly as humans or even other fae.”
“Ah.” So he was an ageless Greater Dragon. A far cry from the simple fae steward I’d thought him to be.
“I’ll leave the two of you to talk.” Phoebe paused long enough to give me a quick hug before she bustled from the kitchen,
headed for the corridor and her own room.
Evander carried the tray from the kitchen, strode between the rows of tables, and headed for the cluster of comfortable
chairs before the large fireplace that dominated the far side of the room from the kitchen. He set the tray on the table in the
center before he sat in one of the chairs farthest from the fire.
I took a seat on a chair across from him and far closer to the fire. I curled my legs beneath me, trying to get comfortable
despite what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation. There was even a blanket tossed over the back of the chair, as if
waiting for someone used to a warmer climate to take it out and spread it over her lap. Which, of course, I promptly did.
I reached for a plate and some of the goodies, not ready to start that conversation just yet. “I’m surprised you didn’t just
pull a gyro or two out of your pocket for us to snack on.”
Evander chuckled, though he didn’t crowd me to claim any of the sweets for himself. “I don’t have any on me tonight. You
were lucky that I had stuffed a generous lunch in my pockets before I stumbled across you wandering the tunnels.”
With him in his fae form, it was almost too easy to pretend he was just Evander. Not the dragon. Not the being I had feared
for so long. “Thank you for sharing your lunch with me that day.”
He waved that away, as if sacrificing one gyro wasn’t that big of a deal.
Once I was settled under the blanket, a plate of goodies on my lap and a mug of warm tea with milk in my hands, I met
Evander’s gaze. I couldn’t put this off any longer. “So…the sacrifices.”
“Yes.” Evander sighed, picked up one of the pieces of sweet bread as if he were going to take a bite, then set it back down.
He pushed to his feet and paced in front of the fireplace. “Over a hundred years ago, by your human time, I was a young dragon
who had just moved out of his family’s eyrie and had been awarded this mountain to turn into my own eyrie.”
“Eyrie? Not castle?” I sipped the tea, the warmth settling inside me. This was the comfort I had been expecting from my
visit home. Strange that I would find it instead here in the Fae Realm with the dragon.
“We dragons call our fortresses eyries. But castle works too.” Evander shrugged, then leaned an arm against the mantel. “I
took to the sky in my full dragon form to survey my new domain. That’s when I made the mistake that has haunted me for
decades. There’s a thin spot between the realms that extends into the sky, and I accidentally flew through it. I felt the shiver, but
I had never left the Fae Realm before. I didn’t know what it was until I was suddenly flying over a human village in broad
daylight.”
I sucked in a breath, just imagining the reaction of my village if a dragon flew overhead.
“Exactly,” Evander said, as if I’d spoken my thoughts out loud. “Worse, I went back several times, curious about the
humans in the village below. I was young and foolish. I didn’t know what the reaction of the villagers would be, but that was
no excuse for my recklessness. That’s when the villagers ventured onto the mountain and left a goat staked out as an offering to
the dragon.”
The first sacrifice. All because a young dragon was out stretching his wings.
“I didn’t mind, right at first. The goats were an appreciated addition to my meals, especially since I didn’t have Phoebe
back then.” Evander tapped his fist against the mantel, the orange firelight casting ragged shadows across his face. “I even sent
some of the dryads to the village at night to use their magic on the olive trees. I figured it was the least I could do to thank the
villagers since they were so kindly feeding me. I didn’t see where things were headed. Not until the sacrifices began to
escalate. It had been just a goat occasionally. Then two goats. Then a bull. Then the village elders began taking the animals
from people in the village who couldn’t afford to lose their animals. I flew down there and told the village elders that I didn’t
need the sacrifices. That they needed to stop.” Evander raised his head and met my gaze. “That’s when they sacrificed the first
maiden.”
I raised the mug to my lips, but I couldn’t force myself to take a sip. I’d probably choke, given the hard lump in my throat.
“Apparently they took my insistence that I didn’t want the sacrifices to mean that goats and bulls were no longer enough.”
Evander sighed, dropping his gaze back to the fire. “She was so frightened, thinking the dragon was going to eat her. I didn’t
want a human sacrifice. So I returned her to the village, telling the elders just that.” Evander halted, both of his fists clenched,
his voice going hard and choked. “They killed her.”
I couldn’t help my gasp. I cradled the mug, trying to draw in as much of the soothing warmth of my cooling tea as I could.
“That’s awful.”
“They assumed she was the problem. That I found her an unacceptable sacrifice.” Evander pounded his fist harder against
the mantel. “I returned to the village and burned some of the olive trees, just to make sure the elders knew it was unacceptable
to kill the maidens. I demanded a living sacrifice. It was all I could think to do to make sure they didn’t kill another girl.”
And that began the demands. The threat of the dragon swooping in and burning the village to the ground.
“After that, I tried other ways to beg the village elders to stop the sacrifices. I’d wait for a few years to go by, then I’d go
into the town in my fae form, pretend I was the dragon’s steward, and hint that the dragon wanted the sacrifices to end.”
Evander’s mouth quirked at that. It was a ruse he was still using. “No matter what I tried, I couldn’t end the sacrifices. Instead,
the elders just added another layer to them. I wore purple to the village once, and then the maidens were dressed in purple
since that was apparently my color. I went as my steward, and then the rumor that it was forbidden to look upon my face got
around. Eventually, I gave up. I didn’t want to make anything worse than it already was.”
I could see that, and I wasn’t sure what else he could have tried. But it also seemed wrong just to give up. Every year, a
girl’s life was put on the line. Sure, Evander didn’t eat the girls. He treated us with kindness. But their lives—my life—were
uprooted for no reason whatsoever besides long-held superstition.
“I don’t know what else to do or what else to try.” Evander finally looked up, his eyes searching my face as if looking for
some kind of understanding or reassurance.
“I don’t know either.” I set down my mug with the dregs of tea. It had gone cold. “I’m sure the others have all pondered
solutions and come up empty.”
“They have. None of us want this to continue, but I don’t want to make things worse. Right now, the maidens are sacrificed
alive, at least. I don’t want to risk that again.” Evander shook his head, scrubbing a hand over his scruff of a beard. “I’ve
continued sending Daphne and some of the other dryads to use fae magic on your village’s olive trees. I know it just encourages
the elders to think the sacrifices are working, but I don’t dare stop for fear the elders will grow desperate to bring the dragon’s
blessing back.”
“That’s why our olive oil is the best in the land.” I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around it. That was Daphne’s
mysterious task.
“Yes. I wish I didn’t have to reward the sacrifices but…” Evander shrugged with a defeated roll of his shoulders. “I
suppose it’s the least I can do for the common people of your village who are most affected by the loss of their daughters.”
Ironic that because of Evander’s kindness, the sacrifices were working, in a twisted sort of way. Knowing Evander, he
would gladly continue to help our village without the sacrifices.
“In the meantime, I try to make sure the maidens suffer as little as possible.” Evander straightened from his slumped
position against the fireplace. “I have an alert placed on the stone so I know when a girl is left there. The gnomes helped me set
it up. I try to get there as soon as I can, given the way time moves between the realms, before she’s injured by wolves or grows
too cold.”
“Thus the huge blanket you keep in your pocket.” I tugged the blanket I was currently using a little tighter over my
shoulders, remembering the cold of that night.
“Yes.” Evander pushed away from the mantel and finally sank onto his seat once again, though the defeated slump to his
shoulders remained. “I try to find each girl a good home, either in the fae village or in the villages in the Human Realm on the
far side of the mountain. They—and you—can’t return to your own village. You’d likely be killed.”
I curled into a tighter ball in my seat. Even now, knowing the truth about the sacrifices, I couldn’t go home. “I see.”
Evander regarded me with eyes so filled with compassion it hurt to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to decide today. Take
your time. Most of the girls are able to visit their parents often enough to convince them to move as well. Or if you can’t, you
can stay in the fae village and sneak visits to them at night. You’ll have to take a guard with you—the forest isn’t safe. Too
many fae monsters roam these parts—but you’ll be free to visit whenever you wish.”
That was why the family of the sacrificed usually disappeared a few months after she did. They were moving to be with
their daughter, leaving behind the village that had treated their family so cruelly.
A pang shot through me. Bapi and Mama would never leave the olive grove. Nor would I want them to, not even for me.
That olive grove was our family’s heritage.
A heritage that would end with my parents since I couldn’t return.
“Thank you for giving me time. I don’t really know what I want to do now.” I hugged my knees. The visit with my parents
hadn’t given me clarity.
Though, perhaps it had. Just not the kind of clarity I’d been seeking.
Tomorrow, I’d talk with Clarissa. She had been living in the Fae Realm for the five human years since she’d been
sacrificed. Maybe she would have advice.
Still hugging my knees, I glanced up at Evander. “If you don’t want the sacrifices, then why all the mystery? Why didn’t you
just tell me all this right away instead of keeping me in the dark, and going through all the testing with the candle?”
For it had been a test, of a fashion. Just not the test I had been expecting.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t explain more earlier. I’m sorry for all the fear.” Evander held my gaze, his mouth caught somewhere
between a wry smile and a grimace. “Would you have believed me if I’d told you right away?”
I opened my mouth but paused before I said anything. He’d told me I was safe. That the others were safe. That the dragon
wouldn’t hurt me. And I hadn’t believed him even that much.
Would I have believed him if he’d told me the whole truth? Or would I have reasoned it away as lies, desperate to make his
words fit what I’d been taught? I probably would have gone into a terrified panic, much as my parents had done earlier that
night. I hadn’t been ready to see the truth until I lit that candle.
Finally I shifted in my seat, leaning my head against the back of the chair. “I don’t know what I would’ve believed.”
“It isn’t your fault. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you more.” Evander rubbed his thumb over his other palm. “It’s always hard to
know with each maiden how much to hide and how much to reveal. Most, like you, are so sure of your purpose that I have to be
particularly careful in presenting the truth. I’ve bungled the reveal a few times, and the maidens were never quite the same
again. There’s something very shattering about being forced to see a truth a person isn’t ready to acknowledge.”
“Thus the candle.” I snuggled deeper into the warmth of the blanket, my eyes growing scratchy as the night grew later.
“Yes. At least through that process, I can eventually explain the truth.” Evander ducked his head, clasping and unclasping
his hands before him. “Some of the maidens are so beyond terrified that I don’t interact with them at all. Phoebe mothers them
until we can safely relocate them to the human villages on the other side of the mountain.”
I shivered, even with the warmth of the blanket and the fire, at the memory of lying there on the stone, believing I was about
to be eaten by a dragon. I hadn’t been far from that stark, unreasoning terror.
“The defiant ones are especially tricky. I’ve been attacked several times. One maiden stabbed me after I freed her from the
stone.” Evander rubbed a spot on his chest that was concerningly close to his heart, assuming dragon’s hearts were in the same
Another random document with
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 encystment, 147
Lafoea, 280;
L. dumosa, 280
Lafoëina (Campanulariidae, 280), 277
Laganum, 548, 549
Lagena, 59, 63, 66 f.;
fossil, 70
Lagenaceae, 59
Lagoon, 390 f.
Lamblia, 111;
L. intestinalis, conjugation, 116 n.
Lampetia, 418
Lancet-plate, 599
Lang, on syngamy, etc., 34 n.;
on Protozoa, 46;
on distinctions of pseudopodia, 47 n.
Lankester, on Protozoa, 45 f.;
on classification of Protozoa, 49 n.;
on Proteomyxa, 89;
on Sporozoa, 94;
on Haemosporidae, 102;
on pigment of Stentor coeruleus, 154 n.;
on Torquatella, 155 n.;
on chlorophyll of Ephydatia, 175;
on Limnocodium, 292
Lankesterella, 97, 102
Lankesteria, 97;
L. ascidiae, life-cycle of, 95
Lantern-coelom of Echinus esculentus, 524;
represented by buccal sinus of Holothuria nigra, 566
Lanuginella pupa, 198
Lar, 273;
L. sabellarum, 266, 267, 268
Larcoidea, 77
Larva, of sponges, 180, 226, 227;
"asexual," 228;
of Tubularia, 271;
 of Stylasterina, 284;
of Trachomedusae, 290;
of Narcomedusae, 295;
of Velella, 302;
of Scyphozoa, 317;
of Alcyonaria, 341;
of Renilla, 360;
of Zoantharia, 373;
of Zoanthidae, 405;
of Cerianthidea, 411;
of Ctenophora, 416, 419;
of Cribrella, 462;
of Luidia, 605;
of Asterina gibbosa, 463, 610, 611, 612;
of Ophiuroidea, 606;
of Echinus, 607;
of Synapta, 608;
of Antedon rosacea, 618, 619, 620
Larval brain, of Echinopluteus, 607;
of Antedon rosacea, 619
Larval type of development, 601
Lateral mouth-shields of Ophiothrix fragilis, 485
Lauterborn, on sapropelic organisms, 48;
on budding in Rhizopods, 56 n.
Laveran, on Sporozoa, 94;
on Acystosporidae, 102
Laverania, 97;
parasite of bilious or pernicious fever, 104 f.
Lebrunia, 382;
L. coralligens, 373
Lecqueureusia, 52;
L. spiralis, test of, 55
Lee, A. Bolles, on action of clearing reagents, 11 n.
Leech, host of Haemogregarina, for sexual process, 102
Leeuwenhoek, on organisms of putrefaction, 42 f.
Léger, on Protozoa, 45;
on Sporozoa, 94;
 on sperms of Pterocephalus, 99 n.;
and Duboscq, on Sarcocystis tenella, 108 n.
Leidy, on Protozoa, 46
Leiopathes, 368, 409
Leiopathidae, 409
Leiosella, 225
Leipoldt, on the madreporic vesicle of Echinoidea, 528
Lelapia australis, 192
Lembadion, 137;
caudal cilia of, 141 n.
Lembus, 137;
caudal cilia of, 141 n.
Lemnalia, 349
Lendenfeld, von, 218, 220, 220 n.
Lepidogorgia, 355
Leptobrachiidae, 325
Leptodiscus, 110, 132, 134
Leptogonaster, 456, 467
Leptogorgia, 340, 357
Leptopenus, 404
Leptophyllia, 404
Lesser, Hertwig and, on Heliozoa, 71
Lesueuria, 419
Lesueuriidae, 419
Leucandra, 191, 192, 209, 221
Leucilla, 191, 191
Leucin, 15
Leuckart, 245
Leucocyte, 4 f.;
movements of, 7 f.
Leucophrys, 137
Leucosin, 115
Leucosolenia, 221;
collar-cell, 186;
larva, 227 f.;
spicule, 232;
L. botryoides, buds, 228, 229
Leucosoleniidae, 185 f.
Levander, on Caenomorpha, Metopus, etc., 154 n.
Leydenia, 90 f.
Liberation of sporozoites of Acystosporidian parasite in relation to fits
of fever, 103
Lice, supposed spontaneous generation of, 42
Lichen compared to Radiolarian with symbiotic holophytic
organisms, 86
Lichnophora, 138;
adoral wreath, 138 n.
Lieb, Calkins and, on rhythm in life-cycle of Ciliata, 148 n.
Lieberkühn, 167, 178, 237 n.
Lieberkühnia, 59, 61
Life-cycle, life-history, of Trichosphaerium sieboldi, 54, 56;
of Polythalamic Foraminifera, 67 f.;
of Lankesteria ascidiae, 95 f.;
of Coccidium schubergi, 99 f., 101;
of malarial parasites, 103, 104 f.;
of Flagellata, 116 f.;
of Ciliata, 147 f.
Light, stimulus of, 19, 21 f.;
function of, in carbohydrate formation, 36;
effect on Euglena, 125
Lillie, on regeneration in Protozoa, 35 n.
Limicolous Protozoa, 48
Limit of growth, Herbert Spencer's, 23 f., 31
Limnocnida, 293;
L. tanganyicae, 293
Limnocodium, 293;
L. sowerbyi, 292
Linantha, 322
Linckia, 459, 471
Linckiidae, 461, 471
Lindström, 346
Linerges (allied to Atollidae, 322), 316
Linin, 6, 24 f.;
of ovum of Sea-urchin, 7
Linuche, 322
Lionotus, 137, 152 n.
Lipochrome, 39
Liriantha appendiculata, 291, 295
Liriope, 288, 290, 295;
L. rosacea, 289
Lissodendoryx, 224
Lissomyxilla, 225
Lister, A., on Myxomycetes, 93 n.
Lister, J. J., on Foraminifera—reproduction, 67 f.;
dimorphism, 67;
 palaeontology, 70;
classification, 58 f.;
on Astrosclera, 194 n.
Lithistida, 194, 212, 215
Lithobius forficatus, host of Coccidium schubergi, 99
Lithocercus, 78;
L. annularis, 82
Lithoninae, 193 f.
Lithostrotion, 394
Littoral Protozoa, 48
Lituaria, 364
Lituola, 59
Lituolidaceae, 59
Living beings, characters of, 16 f.;
criterion of, 11
Lizzia, 265, 270
Lobata, 414, 416, 418 f.
Lobophytum, 333, 347, 349
Lobopodia, 47 n.
Locomotion, in Heliozoa, 73
Loeb, Jacques, on "chemical" fertilisation, 32 n.;
on polarity in regeneration, 229 f.
Loftusia, 59, 70, 283
Lohmann, on Silicoflagellates, 114 n.
Loisel, 237, 238
Longitudinal band of cilia of Dipleurula, 604;
of Tornaria, 616
Longitudinal fission of Eutreptia viridis, 124;
of Flagellates, 109, 115;
of Bodo saltans, 117 f.;
of Craspedomonadidae, 122
Longitudinal flagellum and groove in Dinoflagellata, 130, 131
Longitudinal section, of a young Asteroid, 445;
of a young Ophiuroid, 486;
of a Holothuroid, 563;
of Antedon, 584;
of free-swimming larva of Antedon, 618
Lophocalyx philippensis, 229
Lophoctenia, 418
Lophohelia, 399;
L. prolifera, 399
Lophomonas, 111, 123
Lophophore, 579
Lophophyllum, 406 f.
Louse, host for sexual process, etc., of Haemosporidian, 102 n.
Loxodes, 137, 144, 152 n.
Loxophyllum, 137, 152
Lucernaria, 320, 321;
L. campanulata, 321
Lucernariidae, 320
Ludwig, on the blood-system of Asteroidea, 449;
on the axial sinus of Ophiuroidea, 487;
on the classification of Holothuroidea, 570
Lühe, figures of Lankesteria, 95
Luidia, 467 f., 471, 477;
fossil, 475;
larva of L. ciliaris, 605
Luminosity or phosphorescence of sea, due to Cystoflagellata, 132,
134 f.;
to Dinoflagellata, 132
Lunule, 548
Lychnorhiza, 325
Lychnorhizidae, 325
Lytocarpus (Plumulariidae, 279), 277

Maas, 168, 189 n., 228 n., 230, 231 n., 232 n., 233, 324
MacBride, E. W., on Echinodermata, 425 f.
MacBride, Massee, on Myxomycetes, 93 n.
MacCallum, on malarial parasites, 103
M‘Dougall, on motile reaction of Protozoa, 19 n.
M‘Intosh, 370 n.
MacMunn, 169
Macrocnemic, 405
Macrocneminae, 405
Macrogonidia of Volvox, 126, 127
Macro-, prefix misused to mean "large," usually replaced here by
"mega," q.v.
Madrepora, 368, 373, 387, 389, 395;
M. forma cervicornis, 395;
M. forma palmata, 395;
M. forma prolifera, 395
Madreporaria, 369, 371, 384 f.
Madrepores, 326 = Madreporaria, q.v.
Madreporic vesicle (or right hydrocoel) of Asterias rubens, 448;
of Ophiothrix fragilis, 490;
of Echinus esculentus, 528;
development in Dipleurula, 609
Madreporidae, 395
Madreporite, 428;
of Asterias rubens, 434;
of Ophiothrix fragilis, 487;
of Ophiuroidea, 493;
of Cladophiurae, 493;
of Echinus esculentus, 512, 517;
of Echinocardium cordatum, 562;
of Holothuria tubulosa, 564;
of Elasipoda, 571;
of Pelagothuriida, 572;
in older fossil Pelmatozoa, 583;
in Thecocystis sacculus, 596
Magosphaera, 89
Maidenhair tree, spermatozoa of, 38
Malacogorgia, 334, 357
Malarial fever produced by Acystosporidae, 103 f.
Mal de Caderas (= falling sickness of cattle), 119
Male gamete, 33;
motile in Lower Plants, Higher Cryptogams, Cycads, and Ginkgo,
38;
of Pandorina, 128 f.;
of Eudorina, 129;
of Peritrichaceae, 151
—see also Sperm, Spermatozoon
Malignant tumour, associated with Leydenia, 91
Mammals, syngamy in, 34;
contain Sarcosporidiaceae in muscles, 108
Man, host of Amoeba, 57;
of Coccidiaceae, 102 f.;
of Sarcocystis tenella, 108 n.;
of Trichomonas vaginalis, 119;
of Trypanosomes, 119 f.;
of the Ciliata Nyctotherus and Balantidium, 152
Manicina (Fam. Astraeidae, 399), 373;
M. areolata, 370, 389
Mann, on function of nucleus, 24 n.
Manson, on relation of Filarial disease to gnats or mosquitos, 103
Manson, the subject of inoculation experiments with malarial
parasites, 106
Manubrium, 251
Margelis ramosa, 269
Margelopsis, 270, 274 f.
Marginal, anchors, 320;
cirrhi, 139 f.
Marginaster, 464
Marine, Foraminifera, 60 f.;
Heliozoa, 75
Marrow, red, of bones, habitat of resting states of malarial parasites,
106 n.
Marshall, on amphidiscs, 179
Marshall, on Pennatulacea, 359 n.;
on the physiology of the nervous system of Antedon rosacea, 585
Marsigli, 167
Marsupifer valdiviae, 379
Marsupites, 588
Maryna, 137;
M. socialis, tube, 152
Massee, on Myxomycetes, 93 n.
Mastigamoeba, 109, 112
Mastigophora (Bütschli's name for Flagellata), 109
Mastigophrys, 71, 75 n.
Maturation of schizont of Acystosporidian parasite in relation to
fever-fit, 103
Maupas, on Protozoa, 45;
on life-cycle of Ciliata, 147 f.
Maupasia, 111, 124
Mayer, 312
Meandrina, 388, 401;
M. labyrinthica, 370
Mechanical stimuli, 19 f.
Median dorsal process of ciliated band of Bipinnaria, 606
Medium gametes in Pandorina, 128 f.
Medusa, 250;
of Millepora, 259 f.;
of Gymnoblastea, 262 f.;
of Calyptoblastea, 277 f.;
in Trachomedusae, 288 f.;
in Narcomedusae, 295 f.;
fresh-water, 292 f.;
of Siphonophora, 302, 309;
in Scyphozoa, 310 f.
Medusome, 250, 251, 252
Megagamete, 33;
see also Female gamete, Oosphere
Megalactis griffithsi, 384
Megalosphere, megalospheric, 67 f.
Megamastictora, 183, 184 f.
Meganucleus, 136, 139 f., 144, 149 f.;
degeneration of, in conjugation, 148 f.;
new formation of, in conjugation, 148, 151;
of Stylonychia mytilus, 139 f.;
of Carchesium, 146;
of Paramecium caudatum, 148, 151;
of Trachelius ovum, 153;
of Stentor, 154;
of S. polymorphus, 156;
of Suctoria, 160 f., 162;
 conjugation of, in Dendrocometes, 161
Megazooid of Vorticella, 157
Megazoospores, 85
Meissner, on classification of Spatangoidea, 554 n.
Melanin, 103
Melitodes, 333, 351, 353;
M. chamaeleon, 338;
M. dichotoma, 338, 351
Melitodidae, 337, 351
Mellita, 548, 549
Melobesia, 422
Melonitidae, 557
Membrana reticularis, 199, 200
Membrane, undulating, of Flagellata, 110, 115, 123;
of Trypanosoma, 115;
of Trichonymphidae, 123;
of Ciliata, 137, 139 f., 145, 156 f.;
of Stylonychia mytilus, 139;
of Pleuronema, 145;
of P. chrysalis, 153, 154;
of Caenomorpha uniserialis, 155;
of Vorticella, 156, 157
Membranella, 137, 139 f., 145;
of Stylonychia mytilus, 139 f.;
of Metopus sigmoides, 154;
of Caenomorpha uniserialis, 155;
of Vorticella, 156
Meresjkowsky, 238, 274
Merozoite, 97;
of Coccidium schubergi, 99 f., 101;
of Haemosporidae, 102;
of Acystosporidae, 103, 104 f.
Mertensia, 417;
M. ovum, 417;
stage of Lobata and Cestoidea, 414
Mertensiidae, 417
Mesenchyme, 604
Mesenteric filaments, Alcyonaria, 331, 333;
Zoantharia, 369
Mesenteries, of Alcyonaria, 329, 334;
of Zoantharia, 329, 366 f., 368;
of Asterias rubens, 439;
of Holothuria nigra, 562;
of Antedon rosacea, 585, 586
Mesnil, on Sporozoa, 94;
Caullery and, on Actinomyxidiaceae, 98 n.
Mesodinium, 137, 152
Mesogloea, 246;
of Alcyonaria, 330
Metabolic, metabolism, 13
Metacnemes, 367
Metacrinus, 588, 591
Metallogorgia, 355
Metamorphosis, of Insects, 44;
of Dipleurula, 610 f.
Metamp, 168, 169
Metaphytes, 41
—see also Plants, Higher
Metazoa, 40 f.;
rheotaxy of, 21;
origin of, from Protozoa, 40 f.;
flagellate sperms of, 109;
hosts of Polymastigidae, 111
—see also Animals, Higher
Method of study of the life-cycle, of organisms of putrefaction, etc.,
44;
of Flagellata, 116;
of Ciliata, 147
Metopus, 137;
M. pyriformis, 154;
M. sigmoides, 154
Metridium, 381 (= Actinoloba, q.v.)
Metschnikoff, 167, 178, 237 n., 296
Microbes, 44
Microciona, 225
Microgamete, 33;
of certain Coccidiaceae, 101
—see also Sperm, Spermatozoon
Microgromia socialis, 59 f., 60
Microhydra, 256
Micromastictora, 183, 195 f.
Micronuclei, micronucleus, 136, 139, 144 f., 148 f., 151 f., 155, 157,
159, 160 f.;
of certain Flagellata, a blepharoplast, 109 n.;
relations of Trypanosomic blepharoplast to, 121;
of Stylonychia mytilus, 139;
of Paramecium caudatum, 148, 151;
in conjugation, 148 f.;
numerous, of Stentor, 154;
of Vorticella, 157;
of Suctoria, 160 f.;
of Podophrya, 160;
of Acineta jolyi, 160
Micropyle, 230
Microscleres, 176
Microsolena, 404
Microsphere, microspheric, 67 f.
Microzooid of Vorticella, 157
Microzoospores, 85
Miescher's tubes, 108
Migratory pairing nucleus, 149 f.;
of Peritrichaceae, 151 f.
Miliola (Quinqueloculina), 65
Miliolidaceae, 59
Miliolina, 59, 66, 70
Milleporina, 257 f., 258, 260, 282;
nematocysts of, 247, 259
Milleporina, 257
Mimicry among Gymnostomaceous Ciliata, 152 n.
Minchin, on Sporozoa, 94 f.;
on Sponges, 168, 172 n., 185, 186 n., 227 n., 232, 316 n.
Minnows prey on Anopheles, 106
Minous inermis, 268
Minyadidae, 328, 366, 377, 383
Miserly cells, 32 f.
Mithrodia, 464
Mithrodiidae, 464
Mitosis, 25, 26, 27 f.;
functions of, 28 f.;
of micronuclei in Ciliata, 144
Mitrophanow, on trichocysts, 142 n.
Mitrophyes, 306
Miyajima, 273
Mnemia, 420
Mnemiidae, 420
Mnemiopsis, 420
Mnestra (position undetermined), 269
Mohl, von, on protoplasm, 3
Mole-cricket, host of Lophomonas, 123
Molluscs, hosts of Gregarines, 98
Molluscum contagiosum, 102
Molpadiida, 568, 569, 575, 576, 577, 578
Monacanthid, 457
Monadidae, 111
Monadineae, applied to Proteomyxa by Cienkowsky and Zopf, 89
Monads, a name for the lowest, simplest Flagellata, 109, 116 n.
Monas, 111, 119;
M. dallingeri, gametes of, 116 n.
Monaxon, 183, 184, 232
Monaxonic (= symmetrical about one single axis), 76
Monaxonida, 211, 216 f.
Moniliform meganucleus of Stentor, 156
Monobrachiidae, 274
Monobrachium, 274
Monocaulus, 263, 273;
M. imperator, 269, 273
Monocyclica, 594
Monocystis, 97 f.
Monograptus, 282
Monophyes, 303, 306
Monophyidae, 306
Monoprionidae, 282
Monopylaea (= Nassellaria), 76
Monorhaphis, 197
Monosiga, 111, 122
Monosiphonic, 275
Monotrypasta (= Osculosa), 76
Monoxenia darwinii, 342
Monstrous Foraminiferal shells, possible formation of, 69
Montipora, 390, 396
Moore, 293
Mopsea, 353
Morgan, on regeneration, 35 n.
Morphological contrast of Animals and Plants, 38 f.
Mortensen, on classificatory value of pedicellariae, 532;
on classification of Cidaridae, 534;
of Echinothuriidae, 536
Moseley, 258, 333, 338, 345, 411
Mosquito (= gnat), 103 f.;
dappled-wing-, intermediate hosts of Acystosporidae, 103
Mosquito-netting, a prophylactic against malarial fever, 103
Moss-dwelling Protozoa, 48
Mosser, F., 418 n.
Motile organs, 17 f.
Motile reactions of Protozoa, 19 f.
Motility, 9
Motion, ciliary, 18;
gliding, of protoplasm, 47 n.
Moulting of cuticle or cell-wall in Dinoflagellata, 130;
of Dendrocometes, 161
Mouth, of Flagellata, 113;
absent from Opalinidae, 123;
of Maupasia, 124;
excreta expelled by, in Noctiluca, 133;
of Ciliata, 137, 145 f.;
 of Gymnostomaceae, 137, 143, 145, 152;
of Stylonychia mytilus, 139 f.;
of Dysteria, 145;
of Pleuronema, 145;
of P. chrysalis, 153;
of Paramecium caudatum, 148, 151;
trichocysts of, in Gymnostomaceae, 143;
of Trachelius ovum, 153
Mouth-angle of Ophiothrix fragilis, 482
Mouth-frame, of Asteroidea, 436, 483;
of Ophiothrix fragilis, 482;
of Ophiuroidea, 483, 492 f.;
of Ophiarachna incrassata, 484;
of Ophiacantha, 492;
of Ophioscolex, 492;
of Ophiothrix, 492
Mouth-papilla, of Ophiuroidea, 483, 492;
of Ophiocoma, 493
Movements, amoeboid, 5 f., 125 n.;
of Protista, 16 f.;
of Higher Plants, how produced, 38;
springing, of Bodo saltans, 114;
of Euglena, 124 f.;
euglenoid, 125 f.;
metabolic, 125 n.;
of Sporozoa, 125 n.;
of Stylonychia, 138;
springing, of tailed Ciliata, 141 n.;
of Halteria, 155;
of Suctorian tentacles, 159 f.
Muggiaea, 306;
M. atlantica, 304;
M. kochii, 303
Müller, J., on recognition of Echinoid larva, 518;
on the name Pluteus, 607
Müller, O. F., on Protozoa, 45
Multicilia, 109
Multinucleate Amoeba (Pelomyxa), 16;
Protozoa, regeneration of, 35
Multiple budding, in Suctoria, 160 f.
Multiple fission, 30 f.
—see also Brood-division
Murbach, 248 n., 288
Muricea, 356
Muriceidae, 330, 355
Muscle of Vorticella, 157
Muscle-cell, 19
Muscular contraction, physical explanation of, 19
—see also Myonemes
Mussa, 401
Mycetozoa (= Myxomycetes, q.v.), 50, 90 f.;
in relation to Fungi, 40;
studied by botanists, 45;
relations of, 49
Myocyte, 96, 98
Myonemes, 19, 96;
of Trypanosoma, 120 f.
of Stylonychia, 140;
of Ciliata, 142;
of Vorticella, 157
Myophrisks, 80
Myriophrys, 71
Myriothela, 269, 274
Myriothelidae, 274
Myxaster, 466
Myxasteridae, 464
Myxastrum, 70, 73
Myxidium, 98;
M. lieberkühnii, 107
Myxilla, 225
Myxobolus, 98;
spores of, 107
Myxobrachia, 83
Myxogasteres, Myxogastres, 90 f.
Myxoidea, 89
Myxomycetes, 90 f.;
rheotaxy of plasmodium in, 21
—see also Mycetozoa
Myxospongiae, 196
Myxosporidiaceae, 98, 106 f.;
spores, 107

Nagana disease of hoofed quadrupeds, 119

Naked Protozoa, 51 n.
Narcomedusae, 288, 295 f.
Nardoa, 455, 456, 471
Nassellaria, 76, 78;
skeleton of, 83;
geological occurrence of, 88
Nassoidea, 78
Nausithoe, 322;
Scyphistoma of (= Spongicola fistularis), 317;
N. punctate, 322;
N. rubra, 322
Nectocalyces, 297, 298, 305
Needham on spontaneous generation, 43
Nematocyst, 246 f., 247;
of Actinomyxidiaceae, 98;
of Myxosporidiaceae, 98, 107;
of Myxobolus mülleri, 107;
of Polykrikos, 131, 249;
of Epistylis, 249;
of Aeolis, 248;
of Hydra, 247;
of Millepora, 247, 259;
of Siphonophora, 300;
of Scyphozoa, 312;
of Alcyonium, 247;
of Sarcophytum, 248;
of Cerianthus, 247
Nematodes parasitic in blood, 103
Nematophores, 277
Nemocera (= gnats or mosquitos), 103 n.
Neohelia, 399
Neolampas, 554
Neosporidia, 97, 106
Nephthya, 341, 349
Nephthyidae, 349
Neresheimer, on neurophane fibrils in Ciliata, 143 n.
Nerve-ring, of Asterias rubens, 444, 447;
of Ophiothrix fragilis, 488;
of Echinus esculentus, 518, 521, 527;
of Antedon rosacea, 583;
outer, of A. rosacea, 585
Nervous fibrils in Ciliata, 143
Nervous system, in Animals, not in Plants, 39 f.;
of Asterias rubens, 444 f.;
of Ophiothrix fragilis, 488;
of Echinus esculentus, 518 f.;
of Holothuria nigra, 566;
of Antedon rosacea, 583 f.
Neuron, 444
Neurophane (= supposed nervous fibrils in Ciliata), 143 n.
Newts, Trichodina parasitic in, 158
Nitriles in relation to nutrition, 36
Noctiluca, 110, 132 f.;
endosarc, 144;
N. miliaris, 133
Nodosaria, 59, 63, 66 f.
Nosema, 98;
N. bombycis, 107;
organism of pébrine, 107
Nubecularia, 59
Nuclear apparatus, of Infusoria, 48, 136;
of Ciliata, 139 f., 144 f.;
of diffused granules, in marine Ciliata, 144 n.;
of Suctoria, 159
—bipartition in Trichosphaerium, 54
—reduction of Actinosphaerium, 75 n.;
of Monocystis, 96;
of Coccidiaceae, 100, 104 f.;
of Acystosporidae, 104 f.;
of Myxosporidiaceae, 107;
of Flagellates, 116 n.
—divisions, in spores of Lankesteria, 95
—see also Mitosis, Karyokinesis
Nuclearia, 70
Nuclein mass (= karyosome), 24
Nucleinic acid, 7 n.
Nucleole, nucleolus, 7, 24, 25 f., 27;
of Sea-urchin ovum, 7;
of Sphaerella, 126
Nucleolidae, 554
Nudeolites, 554
Nucleoplasm, 6
Nucleoproteids, 12
Nucleus, 6;
of cell, 6 f.;
of Amoeba, 5 f.;
of A. polypodia, 10;
resting, function of, 24 n
—in mitosis, 25 f., 27 f.;
—of Euglypha, 29;
of Paramecium caudatum, 148
—pairing state of, 34;
of Ciliata, 150 f.;
of Paramecium caudatum, 148
—of Rhizopods, 52;
of Pelomyxa, 52;
of Microgromia socialis, 60;
of Foraminifera, 62;
of mega- and microspheric forms of Foraminifera, 68 f.;
of Heliozoa, 71, 72, 74;
of Clathrulina, 74;
of Radiolaria, 76;