Page 9 of Valor’s Flight (The New Protectorate #5)

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 to eat?”

He shook his head again.

Fascinated, but also not entirely certain that could possibly be correct, she pressed, “What about water?”

Another shake of his head.

“How long can you go without?”

It wasn’t a yes or no question, which made things rather more difficult for him. The dragon let out a series of chirps and lifted his chin. Alashiya frowned and decided to work backward from an impossible starting point. “A year?”

The dragon shook his head.

“Six months?”

Another shake.

“Three months?”

The dragon didn’t answer right away but appeared to think through her question before slowly shaking his head.

“Three months is closer,” she surmised, strangely fascinated by his answers. “What about two?”

The dragon’s face wasn’t very expressive. Not in any way she could decipher, anyway. But he somehow managed to look haughty when he nodded.

“Two months without food or water?” Alashiya rocked back on her heels. She could only imagine what it must’ve been like to be such a powerful, resilient creature. Wryly, she noted, “Nymphs need to eat all the time — unless we’re hibernating. It must be nice to not have to worry about that.”

The dragon’s long neck moved sinuously as he leaned toward the fire. A shwush drew her attention to his tail, which had slithered across the floor to make a slightly tighter ring around them.

Those great, violet eyes stared at her as his nostrils flared.

She got the sense that he was speaking to her, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what he was trying to say.

The best she could do was decide he looked very intense — a bit like a dog who knows better than to outright beg his owner, so instead waits with bated breath for a food scrap to fall.

Alashiya cleared her throat and looked away, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

“Well, um, I could still make you a pot of broth, if you’d like.

” She eyed him speculatively. Would he just stick his snout in it?

That wouldn’t be a dignified sight, which somehow felt deeply wrong, but dignity didn’t have a place at the table when survival was on the line.

“A big one. You might not need it, but it wouldn’t hurt, right? A good broth can fix anything.”

The dragon shook his head more quickly this time as he drew back. The thick, scaly skin above his eyes lowered in what she could only assume was a deep frown.

Compelled by manners she thought were long forgotten, she assured him, “It really wouldn’t be any trouble. I have a huge stock pot and I keep all my scraps. I could bring it over and—”

It seemed impossible for something as big as the dragon to move as quickly as he did, but one moment he was across the fire and the next his snout was a few inches from her face. A growl rumbled from deep within his monstrous chest. With deliberate slowness, he shook his head.

No, he seemed to say. And quit asking!

Heart jammed in her throat, Alashiya squeaked, “Do you hate broth?”

The huff he released was nearly strong enough to knock her off her feet.

His massive snout pressed against her middle.

She stumbled back a step as he gave her a firm nudge.

Whether he was trying to push her out or down to the ground, she couldn’t say.

Either way it was a clear sign that he was done listening to her.

I’m annoying him, she realized. Her cheeks warmed. The nerve!

Alashiya forcefully smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and announced, “Fine, I get it. I’ll leave you alone. I need to get work done anyway. Goodnight.”