Page 5 of Mountain of Dragons and Sacrifice

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.

---