Page 12 of Mountain of Dragons and Sacrifice

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.

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