Dragon Fire

by Lisa McMann

  “And what about the tubes?” asked Fifer anxiously.

  “Not good,” said Thisbe, looking up and pulling the screwdriver from her mouth. “It’s not just that the panel is broken. Everything inside is smashed and melted. There’s nothing we can do with this if we don’t have a complete replacement, and I’ve never heard of any extra parts being stored anywhere, have you?”

  “No,” said Florence. “We’ve never needed them.”

  “And even if we did have a replacement,” she said with a shake of her head, “none of us knows how to put it together. The only one who’s ever fixed a tube is trapped in one of the remote rooms.”

  “I saw another… tube… in the kitchen,” Reza said hesitantly.

  Fifer and Thisbe looked at him, then at each other. They knew that tube well from their younger years. But like the one in the head mage’s kitchenette, it had its own settings and rules for where it went. “Hmm,” said Fifer. “That one doesn’t run through these main tubes, though. I think it only has direct access to the living quarters for food delivery. Thisbe, do you remember if it also goes to the remote rooms?”

  “I doubt it, but I’ll check,” said Thisbe. “I don’t remember ever using the room service tube for anything except sending food to individual rooms upstairs.” She slipped out of the main tube and ran to the kitchen, jumping over the debris that was scattered throughout the hallways. When she returned, her expression was grim. “That one has been smashed too. Only the tube in the head mage’s kitchenette is functioning.”

  “Why did Frieda have to destroy everything?” muttered Florence. “It’s senseless! It didn’t work in her favor in any way. I can’t believe this mess—I honestly don’t know if we can ever repair these tubes.” For the first time since the mission began, Florence’s voice had become distressed. Everyone felt the same way—completely helpless. Their closest friends and family were trapped and wouldn’t last much longer without water.

  “In the world I come from, places have at least two exits,” Kaylee said, feeling frustration boiling up. She knew that saying it couldn’t fix the situation now, but she was stressed out and worried about Aaron, and felt like she had to speak her mind. “Maybe that would be a good idea going forward. Magic or no, stuff breaks.” She frowned. “Sorry. I know that’s not helpful at this moment. I’m just… scared.” She tried not to let on how worried she was, but with the rumors flying that Aaron was one of the people in the library, she couldn’t help but agonize over the fact that nobody had thought of a situation where the tubes would fail.

  “Two exits! That reminds me of that passage I read last night,” said Fifer, turning to Florence. “Let’s have a look at those doors upstairs. I didn’t bring the book with me, but I memorized the clue.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kaylee asked.

  On the way up the broken-down staircase, with the sky overhead, Fifer explained to the others what she’d discovered the previous night. Then she recited the clue Mr. Today had written:

  Right is left and wrong is right,

  stoop low to find the perfect height.

  Tiny eyes will serve you well

  To read your way into this spell.

  At the balcony, only Florence, Thisbe, and Fifer continued on, for they were the only ones who could see and enter the not-a-secret hallway. They did so without delay, leaving Kaylee, Ishibashi, and the people from Grimere on the balcony. While they waited, Ishibashi explained to the others how the secret hallway worked for those who possessed a certain level of magic. As they listened, Maiven, Rohan, and Kaylee kept watch, not forgetting that the person who had caused all of this devastation had reportedly escaped the mansion and could return at any moment.

  “What else were the dissenters saying?” Kaylee asked the black-eyed children. “Did you hear anything?”

  One of them spoke rapidly in her native language, and Rohan translated. “They didn’t understand all of the words being said, but from their tones and gestures, the people seemed annoyed by Frieda,” he reported. “Like they didn’t want to be in this war in the first place. And they were angry that Frieda had abandoned them.”

  Just inside the secret hallway, Florence, who could see the Grimere fighters even though they couldn’t see her, overheard what Rohan was saying and told the twins. Fifer and Thisbe, who were kneeling in front of the door on the left to look for the clue, nodded and kept looking for whatever Mr. Today had put there. “That’s good that the people are angry at Frieda,” Thisbe said as she scanned the wood surface. “Maybe some of them are finally coming to their senses. I’m not sure how we’re going to figure out if the dissenters are safe now or not. And if not, what are we going to do with them? Do you have a plan?”

  “Can’t we just keep them in the cage?” Florence muttered. She was still angry about how destroyed the mansion was.

  Fifer shook her head. “I’ve been thinking we should interview them with the dragons present to see what percent good or evil they are, and keep the good ones.”

  Thisbe looked alarmed. “Uh, I’m not sure I’d pass that test, so maybe step back from that a little.”

  Fifer glanced at her sister. “What?”

  “It’s a long story,” Thisbe said. She shifted uncomfortably. “Are you sure the left door is the right door?” She peered all around the doorknob, seeing nothing.

  “Pretty sure. That’s the only sense I can make of ‘Right is left and wrong is right.’ But I’ll check the other just in case.”

  “I don’t see anything at all,” said Thisbe. “And the other door is the left door if you face the opposite direction down the hallway. So it’s confusing. Which way was Mr. Today standing when he made that spell?”

  Fifer sighed. She got up and crossed the hallway to examine that door, and scoured its surface for several moments. “I don’t see anything here, either.”

  “Neither of you has tiny eyes,” Florence remarked.

  “No one I know of has tiny eyes,” argued Fifer, “so there’s not much we can do about that.”

  They searched a moment more. “Maybe we have to look farther down,” said Thisbe. “It said stoop low, right? I assumed that meant to look below the handle, but maybe the clue is lower.”

  Fifer squinted and crouched, letting her eyes trace invisible lines across the entire door, dropping a little lower with each pass. “Still nothing.”

  “Same here,” said Thisbe.

  Fifer lay down on her stomach and squinted, looking for any sort of irregularity. “I see a scratch in the wood,” she said. “And there’s a little piece broken off the bottom corner.”

  “Is anything written there?”

  “Not that I can see.” She paused. “This is ridiculous. Who on earth has tiny eyes that Mr. Today would be referring to?”

  “Who knows,” said Thisbe. “It could totally be someone who no longer lives here. He could have written that book fifty years ago for all we know.”

  They kept at it. As Fifer rolled to her side, she felt something move in her hip pocket. She quickly lifted her body up, and Kitten pushed her way out.

  “Mewmewmew,” said Kitten angrily.

  “I’m sorry if I crushed you!” Fifer replied. “I forgot you were in there.”

  Kitten folded her front paws and looked away in disdain.

  Florence glanced over. And then she blinked. “Oh,” she said. “Tiny eyes. I think we found our mystery helper.”

  Tiny Eyes

  Of course!” cried Fifer. “How could we forget Kitten?”

  The itty-bitty porcelain feline rolled her tiny eyes. This was not the first time the Unwanteds had forgotten that she existed. “Mewmewmew,” she said, sounding sarcastic.

  “What does that mean?” Thisbe asked. “We need Simber to translate.”

  “I’m not sure we want to know that bit,” said Florence. “She seems angry. You two try to explain to Kitten what we’re looking for. I’ll go trade places with Simber and send him up here.”

  Soon Kitte
n was prancing around in front of the door, looking for clues and feeling important once again now that she knew Mr. Today had singled her out for this significant clue. She searched the door on the right first, where Fifer was. Mewing, but finding nothing, she and the twins moved to the door on the left. This time Kitten sniffed thoroughly, pointing out a small space under it, which the other door didn’t have. Kitten peered up.

  “I’m sure there’s got to be something here,” Fifer said to Thisbe. Then: “Kitten, can you see underneath?”

  “Mewmewmew,” said Kitten, sticking her head in the crack. Her voice sounded muffled.

  “Good job, Kitten,” Fifer said encouragingly. “But maybe you should come back out. Mr. Today left you a secret message on this door somewhere that will unlock it for us. Isn’t this exciting? If you find it, we might be able to rescue Fox.”

  “Mewmewmew,” said Kitten. She emerged from under the door and jumped at it, sinking her claws into the wood. Then she began climbing, holding her face close to the surface, looking for clues.

  They could hear Simber coming. The big cat flew up over the mansion wall and straight to the second floor, not wanting to add his weight to the staircase for fear it would come crumbling down. He frightened the children on the balcony in the process, which made him frown and wish for the invisibility paintbrushes again. Luckily the people of Grimere recovered more quickly than in the past, so that was an improvement at least. Though they still kept their eyes on him.

  He landed and went into the head mage’s hallway. “Tiny eyes,” he said approvingly. “Of courrrse Marrrcus would have left something herrre forrr Kitten—she was grrranted nine lives, afterrr all, so she’s got the best surrrvival odds of all of us. We should have known. I’m sorrry I didn’t think of you immediately, Kitten.”

  “Mewmewmew,” said Kitten, sounding very put out again.

  “I know, I know,” said Simber, abashed. “I want to be a betterrr frrriend too.”

  The girls exchanged a rare glance but didn’t dare ask for an explanation from Simber. Besides, they wanted Kitten to focus on the job and Simber not to growl at them for getting too personal with him, especially when he was being reprimanded.

  Kitten seemed satisfied with Simber’s answer, and she went back to work, claws out, scooting around on the face of the door as if gravity had no pull on her. Back and forth she went until she reached a point about a foot below the doorknob and came to a stop. She put her eye to the wood and was quiet.

  Fifer and Thisbe knelt, being quiet too, even though they could see nothing. Simber waited, his eyes narrowed to slits as if he were wishing them to be tiny too.

  Kitten scrambled around and turned upside down. She studied the same spot while the twins held their breath. The sounds of the outdoors coming inside seemed strangely pleasant.

  Before Kitten could speak about what she’d found, Simber turned his head sharply, hearing something none of the others could hear. His eyes darted, his nostrils flared, and he stood up. A low growl reverberated in his chest. Fifer and Thisbe looked wildly all around, expecting to see an intruder and grabbing for their components. But they saw nothing. Simber looked up and growled louder.

  “What is it?” Fifer whispered. “Is it Frieda?”

  Kitten turned too, then jumped down to stand by Simber and sniff the air.

  “Someone’s herrre,” Simber said softly. “Above us. I can’t see them.”

  “Can just anyone access this hallway now with the roof gone?” asked Thisbe. “Is the magical barrier only at the doorway?” Her answer came seconds later when dozens of huge magical sledgehammers began raining down on them, pounding and smashing everything in sight.

  In one blink, both twins were slammed to the floor. Simber’s tail broke off. And Kitten was smashed to smithereens.

  One Other Way

  Chaos erupted on the balcony as sledgehammers came pounding down on the ones there as well. Maiven Taveer’s cap went flying, and she was thrown to the floor, followed by the rest of the Grimere team. They didn’t know what had hit them, for they, like Fifer and Thisbe, had never actually seen the sledgehammer spell in use before.

  “What’s happening?” cried Rohan, who’d been struck hard in the thigh, causing a deep bruise and a momentary inability to walk. He dodged the hammer that continued coming after him and limped over to Maiven to help her to her feet. The rest of them scattered, running down the stairs or through the hallways, covering their heads and trying to escape the pounding sledgehammers.

  “Take coverrr!” Simber shouted to the ones in the secret hallway, but it was loud enough for all to hear. “They’rrre coming frrrom above!” Without a roof overhead, and with no way to access the apartments without a dragon to lift them over the walls, there were few spots to hide. And the sledgehammers, like other Artiméan spells that were assigned a target upon activation, followed each person around, pounding and pounding relentlessly for several minutes before they struck their last blow and disappeared into the air.

  Kitten’s crushed body pieces magically pulled together, and she came back to life, only to be smashed to bits a second time. When she came alive, this time much the wiser, she dodged the hammer and flattened her body, then slid back into the tiny space below the secret door she’d been trying to open. She made it just in time and watched in horror as the sledgehammer, a hundred times bigger than her, pounded relentlessly, just barely nicking her front paw and turning her favorite claw and two of her whiskers to dust. She scooched farther into the slot and stayed put.

  “Release!” cried Fifer, trying to get her hands on the constantly moving weapon so the release spell would actually work. “Release!” It wasn’t easy, but finally she grabbed it and ended the spell, and the sledgehammer disappeared. “Who designed this terrible component?” she cried. She ran over to try to release the ones attacking Thisbe, who was still on the floor, knocked out.

  “You can blame Florrrence forrr that one,” said Simber, taking a running leap and beginning to fly, with sledgehammers chasing him. “She crrreated it when we werrre in Grrrimerrre. And it just happens to be one of the few that Frrrieda Stubbs is good at activating. Now, wherrre is she? She’s got to be herrre somewherrre doing this.” He soared around the tops of the walls, but he couldn’t see or sense anyone.

  Fifer finally managed to release all the sledgehammers attacking Thisbe, and she knelt next to her sister. “Are you all right?”

  Thisbe groaned and opened her eyes, and the sisters locked eyes for a moment.

  “Are you okay?” Fifer asked again, and she couldn’t mask her concern.

  “Hey,” said Thisbe softly. “I’m all right. Go help the others. I’ll be right behind you. Is Kitten okay?”

  “Mewmewmew,” whispered Kitten from her hiding place.

  “Stay there, Kitten!” Fifer whispered back. She left Thisbe and ran out to the balcony, finding no one remaining there but hearing shouts from all directions and seeing a few bodies sprawled out on the main floor. She spied Ishibashi at the bottom of the stairs, fighting a sledgehammer with his fists, and went down to help him.

  Another round of sledgehammers came sailing from somewhere above them. Fifer dodged and grabbed at them and tried to see what direction they were coming from. “Frieda Stubbs!” Fifer called out. “I know you’re up there, you coward!”

  “You’re the coward!” shouted Frieda.

  “I most certainly am not!” Fifer turned toward the voice and kept talking, hoping Simber, who was flying around above the mansion, would be able to pinpoint where she was. Fifer grabbed a sledgehammer handle. “Release!” she muttered under her breath, and continued with Frieda. “You destroyed this mansion, and you’ve left Artiméans to die in the remote rooms!”

  “You’re the one who did that!” shouted Frieda.

  “What?!” cried Fifer. “How can you even say that?”

  “How can you stand there and pretend like you aren’t the cause of all of this, Fifer Stowe?” cried Frieda. “You started
all of this when you and your vagrant sister came to Artimé and terrorized us all with your dark magic.”

  For a split second, Fifer questioned herself. Was this mess truly Fifer’s fault? Were she and Thisbe to blame? Before Fifer could retort, three heart attack spells came soaring down from the top of the wall, high above the classrooms. Ishibashi saw them and nimbly deflected two of them with his hands while Fifer dodged the third. But they did their damage. Ishibashi clutched his chest and crashed to the floor.

  “Ishibashi!” Fifer rushed over to him to release the spells, but she knew he would continue to suffer for several minutes because of their severity. She dragged him under the staircase in hopes it would shield him from Frieda’s view and aim. There was no way Fifer was losing Ishibashi.

  Thisbe appeared on the balcony and limped down the steps, looking frazzled. The memory of Alex and the fear of Fifer dying had returned after the hammer incident, and she knew she had to make sure that didn’t happen. She reached the main floor and discovered her friends from Grimere in various places, curled up and being beaten by magical sledgehammers or lying motionless. She scooted past Fifer under the stairs to get them to safety inside a classroom, but then stopped and turned back. She hesitated, then leaned in and whispered, “Frieda is a classic monster, Fife. I heard what she said to you. Remember, none of this is our fault. Rule number one of monsters like her? Always accuse your enemies of the crimes you’ve committed. That’s what she’s doing. I know her words probably hurt you, but don’t let Frieda get to you. Just keep going.” She hesitated as Fifer stared at her with an unreadable expression, but then she went on. “I’m going to get our friends to safety. Simber’s up there, zeroing in on her location. And you… you need to take her out.”

  The weight of the moment, with Thisbe actually stopping to speak to Fifer despite their arguments, was a big one. And Thisbe was asking a lot. “What, you mean kill her?” whispered Fifer, aghast. “I don’t know if I can do that. She’s still an Artiméan. She’s one of our people. I can just freeze her, and we can throw her into the pen with the others.”