Page 49 of Bound to the Orc Guardian

“No,” I growl. “Anything but gnomes.” By the goddess, I already have to deal with a cocky dragon youngling anda mischief-loving mount who’s more pooka by the day. Thelastthing I need is to add gnomes into the mix.

Ignoring me, Dash stomps his hoof against the ground. Even in the leather boots I made, a purposeful strike from his stocky leg makes a decidedly solid thump.

I glare at him. “Don’t you dare.”

He laughs in defiance and rolls his eyes, his hooves hitting the ground in a set rhythm, rat-a-tat-tat-tat.

Selena’s toes start to tap in time, her eyes darting from one tunnel mouth to the next.

She’s looking in the wrong place.

The moss all around us starts to shiver. One of the purple clumps breaks free of the ground, and a swirling figure rises up out of the rocky cave floor like a mini-tornado, finally coming to a halt to show a two-foot tall woman with light-green skin and white hair. She stands on one tiptoe with her arms thrown wide for dramatic effect. Her clothes are made of purple rowan leaves spotted with the occasional splash of blue from a blue birch leaf. The glowing patch of purple moss balances perfectly upon her head like a little cap.

Beside her, an equally small man with a long white beard tumbles out of the ground, doing a back flip without losing his pink moss cap.

Selena gasps and claps her hands together in glee as all around us the cavern fills with dancing gnomes wearing glowing moss caps.

“Unicorn, er, pooka,” the male gnome says. “Why have you called the gnomes?”

Dash glances toward me, and I wave him off. “Oh, no. This is all on you.”

“Well…” The unicorn stumbles to a halt, at a loss for worlds for a change.

“We need a clarification of your map.” Bellavesaria taps the parchment with her talon. “You promised the dragons it was a most excellent map, but we’re having trouble following it.”

“You aren’tdragons,” the gnome says. “You’re one youngling. My deal was with Sheevora, not you.”

Bellavesaria’s head rears back, and her tone becomes affronted. “Sheevora the Magnificent is my mother.”

“Fine.” He crosses his arms across his stocky chest. “Call your mother here, and let her ask us questions, then.”

The dragon youngling opens her mouth, but nothing comes up but a tiny wisp of smoke.

“Hi!” Selena gives a wave. “I’m Selena. Is there something we can trade for the information?”

“Can you make us a Ferris wheel?” the first gnome woman asks excitedly.

“A Ferris wheel?” Selena shoots me a puzzled glance.

“Long story,” I say.

“A human witch made the low-land gnomes a Ferris wheel, and we want one, too!” the gnome woman says.

Selena raises an eyebrow at me.

“All right,” I grumble. “Perhaps not that long.”

Selena turns back to them. “I can’t make you a Ferris wheel—”

A chorus of disappointed “awws” echoes through the cavern.

“—but I have healing magic. Is there anyone I can heal for you?”

“You’d do this in exchange for our help with your map?”

“What if I did it because I want to help anyone who’s sick or hurt?” she says. “Afterward, you can help us, if you like.”

The gnomes huddle together, their moss caps turning into a solid carpet of patchwork color as a series of furious whispers teases the edge of my hearing.

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