The spirits of her grove followed her, their whispers like the rustle of thousands of leaves in her ear. She got the sense that they grew mournful when they saw how cold and desolate their old home became after sunset. It was better to take them into her house, to feel them admiring her work as she embroidered by the light of her hearth, than to linger where so many of their mortal lives ended.
But having a dragon in the barn made it feel different. The air was alive again. The scent of smoke conjured memories of dancing and hot meals. She wouldn’t go so far as to say they weregood company, but the dragon’s presence was big enough to fill the sad, empty space left by her grove, and that made it possible for her to stand there at all.
Alashiya took a deep breath. “You’re probably going to be here for a few days, so…”
The dragon’s head lifted, with some effort. They offered her a slow blink. It seemed to say,Go on. I’m listening.
“We should get some things out of the way,” she explained, gesturing to the dragon with a nervous flick of her wrist. “How about you nod once for yes, shake your head for no, and nod twice for neither.”
After another blink, the dragon nodded once.
Licking her lips, Alashiya forged ahead. “Let’s start with whether you’re male, female, or neither. Female?”
The dragon gave her a long look. At length, they shook their head.
Alashiya nodded. “Male?”
A nod.
“Are you an adult?”
The look in his eyes turned to one of unmistakable disbelief, like he couldn’t understand why she was asking him something so basic. There was a huff, followed by a firm nod.
“Do you live near here?”
The dragon paused for a long time. His eyes went in and out of focus the way she’d seen several times, and his lower jaw worked from side to side. There was a struggle going on within that fearsome skull, but she couldn’t discern what it was about — or what side was winning. Alashiya got the sense that whatever was happening, the dragon wasn’t allthere.He appeared dazed, and his eyes roved in a strange, skittering way she’d seen a handful of times in her life.
Eventually, he nodded twice. She frowned. “In this context, does that mean you don’t know?”
Another nod. Low, almost bird-like chirps bubbled up from that long, reptilian throat. When she only stared uncomprehendinglyat him, oblivious to their meaning, the dragon’s lip curled with clear frustration, revealing those terrifying teeth.
“I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you.” She looked away as she rubbed at the sore spot on her forehead. “I wish I could talk to you like I talk to plants.”
The dragon’s head eased into her view. One of those huge violet eyes blinked, but not in the normal way. A clear eyelid slid over from one side. The intensity of his expression wasn’t dulled by its presence at all.
Feeling a bit like he was trying to urge her on, she offered him a wan smile and asked, “Do you need blankets? I know it’s warm, but a storm is coming and if you get wet, you might get sick.”
The dragon scrutinized her for a beat before his head slowly turned one way, then the other. He appeared to be judging the state of the barn, though she had no idea what conclusion he came to when he turned his gaze back onto her. The dragon shook his head slowly.
Relieved that she wouldn’t have to spare any of her precious, hand-made bedding, Alashiya moved on to her next concern. “What about food? You haven’t had any water or meals since you crashed here. You won’t heal if you don’t eat, and I’m pretty sure you’ll die if you don’t drink something.”
During the warm months, nymphs needed to eat and drink nearly constantly, but that was because they traditionally subsisted on food gathered from their land. Berries, wild mushrooms, greens, and root vegetables were her grove’s staples, but they’d learned to tend gardens and buy from shops when access to those things dwindled, both by design and by the god Craft’s ever-flipping coin of famine and fortune.
Alashiya’s larder was almost always bursting with canned, dried, and salted vegetables and tubers. Once upon a time, it was a tenet of her people to welcome all guests with food and water, no matter how scarce their resources were. Though she was long out of practice, she experienced an acute discomfort at the idea of the dragon going hungry on her watch.
She was happy to offer the dragon some of her food, but she wasn’t sure he would be interested in her preserved eggplant — or that he might not eat her out of house and home in one meal.
“I don’t have any meat,” she confessed, brow crinkling with growing worry. Alashiya was almost certain dragons were carnivores. Nothing with teeth like his lived off plants alone. “I have lots of preserves and pickles and things, but I don’t eat flesh. I know a man who sells game, though. I could go into town and get some, if you need it.”
She tried not to wince at her own offer. There were several reasons she didn’t enjoy the idea of buying meat for the dragon. The first was that she felt queasy at the thought of handling animal flesh. The second was that she had very little money to spare, and an unexpected expense like having to feed a creature the size of a truck for an indefinite period of time would no doubt deplete her meager savings almost instantly.
However, it was the third reason that made her hesitate the most:Monty.
Old enough to be her father and mean as the day was long, Monty Howard was a man she did her best to never find herself alone with. He’d had his eye on her land — and other things — for years. He never missed an opportunity to harass her, and if she went to him with a request, she had no doubt he’d find some way to leverage it to his advantage.
Alashiya nearly wilted with relief when the dragon, watching her face with an unblinking stare, firmly shook his head from side to side.
“You don’t need toeat?”
