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“No, I just want to help,” I tell her, reaching my hand out to her, wondering what stories they have been told. I know humans have their own stories and legends, but do they really think I was granted magic to kill the Dragon Kings?

A group of kids are trying to light a fire with a flint. Walking over, I can tell they are wary of me, but they don’t run off.

“Let me try,” I tell them, and a boy hands me the flint. I get it to light the kindle, only it goes out almost instantly. I try again when suddenly all the kids take off running, making me look up and I see Dragus, Matitus, and Silas as well as Marian come in. All of them are carrying boxes and bags. Matitus walks over and exhales a puffed breath. Instantly the temperature changes, the logs catching alight. I turn and see Silas do the same with a barrel and Dragus to an old fire pit the kids had rustled up.

Marian rushes over to me with five big black bags. She places them at my feet, turning and gazing at all the petrified kids.

She places her fingers in mouth whistling loudly, so loud I have to place my hands over my ears with my heightened hearing. Matitus rubs his ears, too.

“Right, all of you listen up. They mean no harm. They want to help but seeing as you won’t come to the castle, we brought some things to you.”

I see the cooks march in with the cleaning trolleys and can smell hot soup. They walk in, with big loaves of bread and plastic spoons. The kids all peek out from their hiding places, hunger in their eyes.

“We brought food, blankets, and clothes. Now don’t be afraid, come over and stop being stupid. If they wanted to kill you, they would have already,” Marian yells. The kids are all staring at her. Once the first one comes forward and the others see he lived, the rest slowly make their way over to us.

The Dragon Kings stand a little bit away from everyone, not wanting to scare the children. The little girl I held earlier walks over shyly, staring up at them. I know just the look of them is intimidating; anyone would find them petrifying if they didn’t know them with their huge size, and just the way they carry themselves. They command attention without doing anything at all. Still, I can see her curiosity and she reminds me a lot of her brother with her bravery. He walks over to her, placing a beanie on her head from one of the bags Marian has.

Silas walks over, grabbing the bag. The little girl only has on an oversized jumper and dirty socks. Silas rummages through the bag, pulling out a onesie that is a little too big but will fit her if I roll the sleeves. He then grabs some socks and mittens.

“Where did you get this stuff?” I ask curiously.

“I flew to the next city over, Lycan territory,” he says, handing me the stuff for her. I pull the jumper off her, revealing a dirty tank top and underwear. Helping her into the onesie, she then sits and Matitus puts her socks on. Her brother is eyeing him and so does she, as she gazes up at him, her dark ringlets falling in her eyes. Matitus smiles at her, and she smiles back. The cook brings a bowl of soup over for her and I place her next to her brother, closer to the fire pit so she will stay warm while he helps her hold her spoon.

“What are we going to do with them?” I ask Silas.

“They are too scared to come back with us, so I will speak to some people and see if we can fix a place up for them, get some people to look over them and organize food and clothing to be dropped off.”

“They need medicine,” I tell him, and he nods, “I will see what I can get. I doubt they will accept our blood even if we offered it to them,” he tells me. I nod in agreement; these kids are petrified of them and want nothing to do with them.

“I know a pharmacist who can make medicine, he just needs herbs,” I tell him, and Silas looks over at me. Dragus does the same. Once the kids are settled, Marian tells them people will be back tomorrow to bring more food. The cooks leave a few drums of water and loaves of bread until someone can come in the morning.

Walking out of the warehouse, I detour, going in the opposite direction of the castle.

“Where are you going, Lora?” Matitus asks.

“To see if Victor survived the winter so far.”

“Victor, who’s Victor?”

“Someone who can help them,” I say, walking toward the old derelict store. The shutters are down as it is getting late in the afternoon. I bang on them.

“Closed for the night,” I hear Victor’s voice sing out from inside.

“Victor, it’s me, Elora.”

“Elora?” He opens the peephole on the roller shutter. He then rolls it up.

“How is your grandmother, dear?” he asks, opening the door, before freezing and stepping back about to close the door.

“Victor, they won’t hurt you, I just need your help.”

Victor opens the door slowly peeking out and reluctantly, allowing me to enter. He steps further into the shop warily and I hear his heart rate increase.

“How’s your grandmother, dear,” he says, but I can hear the shakiness in his voice at three Dragons in his store.

“She died, Vick,” I say with sorrow in my voice.

Victor stumbles back in shock, and I grab his arm to steady him, helping him to sit behind the register.