Page 31 of Mountain of Dragons and Sacrifice

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.

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