Page 44 of Mountain of Dragons and Sacrifice

Evander pointed to each one, his voice low and animated as he talked about far-flung places where he collected his stones. A piece of granite from a mountain on the far side of the Court of Stone. Obsidian from a volcano in the Court of Islands. A scrap of white marble from the Court of Knowledge, leftover from building the king’s palace there. A gray rock that kind of looked like a bird’s head from the Goblin Court.

I didn’t interrupt, letting the soothing rhythm of his voice flow around me.

Unlike Evander’s desk, which was strewn with mess, these shelves were neatly laid out, the rocks placed almost reverently on the velvet. A sign of the care he took with his hoard, once he had a chance to organize them.

“I’m not boring you, am I?” Evander paused near the work table, reaching for a piece of the pink toast, spread with a bright purple jam.

“No, not at all. I’m just trying to take it all in.” I waved at the room. “This is quite the hoard.”

“I’ve been collecting since I was a young dragonling.” Evander’s voice took on a proud note I’d never heard from him. After a moment, the expression faded, and he regarded the room with something almost like fond regret.

He probably didn’t have the time to spend here that he once had, what with having to pretend to be his own steward and calm frightened maidens every few months.

“Maybe…” I trailed off, second-guessing the impulse even as that first word burst from me.

Evander turned to me, searching my face, waiting for me to finish.

I swallowed. Too late now. I’d just have to forge ahead. “Maybe I could help you here? The rock polishers can get along just fine without my help. After all, you only assigned me to work there to make me think I had some purpose to serve, right?”

Evander’s broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “The maidens generally seem to adjust better if given a task.”

I nodded. “Makes sense. Anyway, I can’t tell one type of rock apart from another, but I’m quick with a needle for fashioning velvet into shape and I can place stones on shelves where you tell me to.”

For a long moment, Evander remained frozen where he was, his face going far too uncomfortably blank as he stared at me.

I shifted, and it took all my self-control not to babble a withdrawal of my offer.

Then a smile creased Evander’s face. “Yes, I’d like that. You don’t mind helping?”

“No, not at all.” This room with the bright sunlight streaming through the windows was far better than the rock-polishing room tucked deep in the mountain. Besides, as much as the other fae were pleasant enough company, I’d much rather spend my day with Evander. I pushed up my sleeves. “Where do you want to start?”

Chapter Twelve

The weeks blurred together as I visited Clarissa, got to know some of the other former sacrificial maidens who had remained in the fae village, and discussed ideas about how to end the sacrifices.

My favorite days, however, were those spent with Evander organizing his hoard of stones.

And if I got a little weak-kneed at seeing him so boyishly excited over his hoard, well, I’d never admit that to anyone.

Not even myself.

Idusted off my hands and surveyed the shelves neatly lined up in the room. No more piles of stones or jars of rocks remained along the wall. “I think we’re done.”

Evander nodded, his gaze also sweeping the room from the rocks tidily organized on the shelves to finally land on me. “I appreciate the help.”

“What you mean is that Dorrian appreciates that I’ve kept you out of his way.” I grinned right back. While Evander and I had gotten his hoard in order, Dorrian had tackled the study, somehow transforming it into a pristine space, all while keeping up on the new scrolls and papers that arrived from all over the Fae Realm each day.

“Yes, he’s been rather appreciative of that as well.” Evander’s grin held a wry tilt. After a moment, the tilt softened to something warmer as he gazed into my eyes.

I caught my breath, my heart beating with a fast flutter.

Evander blinked, then gestured to the room. “Why don’t you pick something? Pick any stone in here, and it’s yours.”

“Really? Anything?” I swept a look over the rows upon rows of stones, all neatly laid out. “Is this another test? I know the stories about how dragons get when someone tries to take something from their hoard. Unless my village elders were lying about that too?”

“No, that is quite correct. If you try to steal from a dragon’s hoard, it makes us very angry.” Evander’s smile turned lopsided again. “But I’m giving you a stone. You aren’t stealing from me. There’s a difference to a dragon.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I stared at the shelves. So many stones. I wasn’t even sure why he was giving me one, much less which stone I’d pick. My only emotional attachment to them were the good memories of spending time here with Evander. Other than that, they were just rocks to me.

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