Dragon Captives

by Lisa McMann

  Fifer was lying next to her. The last glimmers of another of Alex’s seek spells faded in the air in front of her. It only made Thisbe feel more helpless. The memory of the capture and that sickly sweet smell made her feel ill. Nothing was what she’d expected—this adventure was not fun at all. In fact, it was terrible. She sniffed and held back her tears. She had to be strong and get them out of here . . . wherever they were.

  The sounds of the marketplace grew clearer. Thisbe looked around, her head still feeling foggy. They were in a small, prisonlike cave, with three rough walls hewn from natural stone. The fourth wall, which locked them in, was made of bamboo bars going in a crosshatch pattern. Thisbe crawled forward and looked around. She could see out to the market square a short distance away. Occasionally someone walked by and peered in, curious. One tough-looking woman spat at Thisbe and muttered, “Tough luck, thief.”

  Thisbe recoiled, but when the woman continued walking, she scowled at her. “It was only a few pieces of fruit! Sheesh.” She shook the bars, found them to be frustratingly secure, then crawled over to Fifer and touched her leg. “Fife. Hey. Wake up.”

  Fifer groaned and stirred. She opened her eyes and squinted at the stone ceiling. After a minute, she asked, “Where are we?”

  “Not far from the marketplace, but we’re stuck in here. We have to do something.” She went back to the bars and glared at a man who looked inside. He hurried on. She gripped the bamboo with both hands, and with as much concentration as she could muster, whispered, “Release.”

  Nothing happened.

  Fifer got to her feet and went over to where Thisbe stood at the bars. “Plug your ears,” she said. “Lemme see what I can do.”

  Thisbe quickly put her hands over her ears, and Fifer, hoping to break the bars, emitted a high-pitched whoop that sounded musical, though it was awfully loud. From the marketplace they heard the sound of glass breaking, followed by a burst of angry voices. But the bars remained intact. A second later they could hear a fluttering noise.

  “Crud, here come the birds.” Thisbe quickly ran to the back of their little prison and ducked down in a corner. She covered her head with her arms as a swarm of birds flocked to Fifer, some of them coming inside the prison.

  Fifer looked at them. “I wish you’d do something besides stand there,” she muttered. They stared back. Finally Fifer shooed them all away. “They’re gone,” she called.

  Thisbe got up and returned to Fifer’s side. “I hate those things.”

  “I know. I wish they were more useful. What other spells do we know? Anything that can help us?” Fifer thought through the magical spells they could do. “The glass spell won’t do us any good in here.”

  “Neither will invisible hooks.” Thisbe quirked her finger anyway and pointed at the wall. A spark shot out and supposedly an invisible hook attached itself to the wall, though neither girl felt like going to feel around for it.

  “You know,” said Fifer, “those hooks might have come in handy on the side of the cliff.”

  “Hmm,” said Thisbe. She wasn’t used to thinking that way—most of the time she was trying not to do magic. But throwing out a few hooks might have actually been something good . . . if only she’d thought of it. Another missed opportunity. But then she frowned. “I doubt these little hooks would be strong enough to hold a dragon.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. Plus, he wouldn’t have been able to see them.” Fifer thought some more. “What else can we do?”

  “Well,” said Thisbe with a little shudder, “I suppose I can try to kill someone if we get really desperate.” She hated the thought of it but remembered how they’d been captured. Perhaps she should have used the boom spell then. But she was glad she hadn’t, now that she knew she was alive . . . and just stuck.

  “What about the shatter spell?” Fifer suggested.

  “Lani said that only works on people, and she also warned me never to do it because it almost cost her Alex’s friendship when they were doing Perseus, Perseus, their first play together.”

  “We’re not trying to keep anyone’s friendship.”

  “True, but I don’t see how it helps.”

  Fifer scowled. “I’m trying it on the bars anyway.”

  “Fine. Go for it.” Thisbe folded her arms and stepped back while Fifer held on to the center bars and closed her eyes. After a long moment of concentrating, she whispered, “Shatter.”

  Nothing happened.

  Fifer opened her eyes, and her face fell.

  Thisbe emitted a hollow laugh, trying to mask her growing fear that they might never escape. “For being the most magical people in Artimé, we sure can’t do very much.”

  “Because nobody will teach us. It’s not our fault. Maybe we aren’t the most magical yet. But we will be. Everyone says so.”

  The two contemplated silently for a few minutes.

  “Well,” they said at the same time.

  “You go ahead,” said Fifer.

  “I was going to say we could send Seth a seek spell.”

  “That’s what I was going to say. I don’t like it, though.” Fifer scrunched up her face. Neither of them wanted to ask for Seth’s help. But he might have components in his vest that could break down the barrier. “I suppose there’s no other option,” she said reluctantly. “No use being stupid about it. We’re turning into stubborn Alex.”

  “Ugh,” said Thisbe.

  Fifer reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded page of the script Seth had given her. She closed her eyes and sighed, then tried to concentrate on it. But before Fifer could say the word “seek,” Thisbe laid a hand on her arm. “Wait a second,” she whispered. “Look. Out there to the left.”

  Fifer opened her eyes. Not far outside their prison, near one of the vegetable stands, was a boy about their age who was staring at them. Like many of the people they’d seen so far in the village, he had medium brown skin and wavy, shiny black hair. It was strange for the twins to see people who had similar features to their own. The boy wore a ragged, lightly patterned shirt that looked like it had once been beautiful, but now the sleeves were ripped off and the colors faded to a pale hue. His tan pants were tattered and barely reached below his knees. And unlike other servants, he was barefoot. When Fifer stared back, the boy narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin defiantly.

  Thisbe frowned. “What’s his problem?” she muttered to Fifer.

  Soon a girl, taller but with similar features and similarly dressed, joined the boy and began to berate him for not following her. He pointed to Thisbe and Fifer and said something the twins couldn’t hear. The girl and boy started angrily toward the prison.

  Fifer and Thisbe shrank back. These two didn’t seem like they were about to rescue them, that was clear enough. “What’s happening?” whispered Fifer.

  “I don’t know.”

  The girl began to yell at Thisbe and Fifer in a different language, as if she expected them to understand her. She waved her hands wildly, pointed at the boy, then imitated an explosion.

  Fifer gave Thisbe a side-eye glance. “I think that boy figured out we caused the glass stuff to break,” she said from the corner of her mouth.

  “Pretty sure you’re right,” said Thisbe. She put her face up against the bars. “I’ll clean it all up if you let us out of here,” she said to the girl.

  The girl stopped speaking, frowned, and looked puzzled. “You speak the language of the dragons and our people,” she said, and now the twins could understand her clearly, though she had an accent that sounded uncommon to them. “Where do you come from?”

  Thisbe and Fifer didn’t dare respond. The girl drew closer, peering into the shadow of the prison. She tugged at the boy, pulling him along and pointing at Thisbe’s hair, then uttered something in her original language that made him stare. Slowly his lips parted, and his eyes grew wide. “Thief,” he whispered.

  “Look closer,” said the girl.

  The boy obeyed, but the twins stepped uncertainly int
o the shadows again. “What are you looking at?” asked Thisbe, growing annoyed. “If you’re not going to let us out, then go away.”

  The two onlookers didn’t respond. They peered into the shadowy prison at Fifer, and the girl pointed at her, saying something rapidly to the boy. An unsettled look crossed his face. Slowly they backed away from the cage. And then they ran.

  “That was really weird,” said Thisbe. She returned to the bars to watch them go. “They’re obviously not going to help us. Are you ready to try the seek spell?”

  Fifer came back to Thisbe’s side, craning her neck to see where the boy and girl went, but they had moved out of sight. She still gripped Seth’s scene page in her hand. “I suppose.” She sighed. “Okay, well, here we go.” She closed her eyes and let out a breath, trying to concentrate.

  “Wait,” Thisbe said again.

  Fifer opened her eyes. “Now what?”

  “I just remembered there’s one spell we haven’t tried. And now might be a good time to practice it.”

  “There is?” Fifer thought for a moment. “What is it?” she asked, and then, “Oooh.” She eyed the prison bars, then glanced at her twin. “Do you think it’ll work on that?”

  Thisbe shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it? We might as well try.”

  “I wasn’t paying enough attention,” said Fifer, stepping back a little fearfully. “You do it.”

  “Gladly.” Thisbe’s black eyes sparked with hope. If she could pull it off, this would be the biggest spell she’d done so far that didn’t happen by accident . . . and it could get them out of here.

  She shook out her wrists, then rubbed her palms together. Then she moved to the center of the bars and placed her hands in the very middle. She closed her eyes and cleared her mind, remembering how Alex had taken his time with it. She focused on what she wanted to happen, since she wasn’t quite sure what else she should be thinking about. She let herself relax completely, and then, when she was good and ready, she whispered the magic verbal component. “Live.”

  More Than She’d Bargained For

  The bamboo bars began to move. They pulsed so gently at first that Thisbe wasn’t quite sure it was happening. She opened her eyes but didn’t let go. “I think it’s working,” she said.

  “I’m not sure how it’ll help us,” said Fifer, cautious but skeptical. “But good job,” she added. “First try. That’s pretty great.”

  “I just did what Alex did. Maybe if these bars get enough movement, they’ll crack, and we’ll be able to break them open wide enough for us to squeeze out.” Thisbe released her hands as the bars began moving more. “Come on,” she pleaded to them. “Really live. Live like you mean it!” She backed away, and their prison door began to sway in and out, straining at the edges where it was attached to the stone cave.

  “Whoa,” said Fifer. “I think it heard you.”

  “Just be ready. If it pops out, we’re going to have to run for it.” Thisbe didn’t take her eyes off the bars. The bamboo grid began to billow, and suddenly the top right corner of it worked its way out of the stone. It waved this way and that, and with a series of little pops, the grid came loose one bar at a time along the top and several rows down the right side of their prison.

  The girls took a few more steps back, and Fifer’s eyes grew concerned. “This thing is a lot more active than Alex’s wings were,” she said. “What did you do to it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I think you turned it into a monster.” They inched backward until they were up against the back wall. As the bars popped loose and the freed section became larger, the grid began to fan wildly. Soon the bottom right corner popped out. The bars began twisting and curling, trying to loosen the rest of it, almost as if it were alive. It made broad swipes inside the prison, forcing the girls into the corner farthest from the opening.

  “We have to get around it,” said Thisbe, a bit breathless. People in the market noticed what was happening. A wave of panic spread through the area.

  “I think we might be in trouble,” said Fifer. The bamboo grate flailed dangerously close, and the girls flattened themselves against the rock.

  Another corner broke loose. “Now!” shouted Thisbe, grabbing her rucksack and shoving her sister forward. The bars curled out, and the girls made a break for the opening. Fifer managed to get out safely, but the bars twisted and came back before Thisbe could escape. They caught her and knocked her flat. “Ouch!” she cried, and scrambled along the prison floor. “Help!” She dove for the opening. Fifer grabbed her sister’s hand and yanked her out of the way.

  Thisbe got to her feet, and the two girls ran into the alley, then stopped short to look back. Finally the bars broke loose from the last corner. The people in the marketplace ran away screaming, and the grid, filled with exuberant magical life, wiggled and tumbled and chased after them. The girls looked around desperately, trying to get their bearings, and searched for the way out of the maze of alleyways so they could get back to the mountain. The grid circled around and began pursuing the twins.

  “Oh no—it’s following us!” said Fifer.

  “Run uphill!” shouted Thisbe. The girls finally found their way out of town. They kept going, starting up the mountainside, and didn’t stop until they were a quarter of the way back to the dragon. They rested for a moment to catch their breath, looking back over the village, and realized the grid hadn’t followed them very far, for now it was terrorizing the marketplace. Carts and tables were overturned, and produce was spilled everywhere, getting trampled by the stampede of people trying to escape the strange, living wooden structure.

  “I guess I didn’t quite know what I was doing there after all,” Thisbe admitted.

  “At least we’re safe.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “I hope it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

  “Me too. I feel bad about the mess.” Thisbe cringed. She didn’t think this was the kind of magic Alex had in mind for her and Fifer either. Was it even possible for her to get it right?

  They watched a moment longer, and then Fifer gasped and pointed. There, in the center of the chaos, grabbing armloads of food, was a figure with a very familiar gait. He was moving almost without being able to see overtop his stash of goods, yet he continued to scoop up everything he could. Fifer leaned forward and squinted. “Is that—? Yes! It’s Seth!”

  “Oh no,” said Thisbe, catching sight of him. “What’s he doing? He needs to pay attention and get out of there. He’s running straight toward the grid!”

  Unable to help, the two watched in horror as Seth realized his error a second too late. He sidestepped and slipped on some trampled fruit. His armload of stolen goods went flying, and he flopped down in front of the pursuing prison door. A moment later one corner of the bars hooked Seth by his shirt and took him on a ride into the air. Then it slammed him into the ground and dragged him around again in the same manner as it rolled through the square.

  “Seth!” the girls cried out, forgetting all about needing to escape. They knew they had to do something. There was no way Seth could survive that kind of ride for long. Without another word, both girls ran back down the mountain toward the village to rescue their friend.

  Saving Seth

  How do we turn it off?” Fifer shrieked as she and Thisbe ran toward Seth. “Can you just do a release spell?”

  “Alex sang that ridiculous song—remember?”

  “Do you know the words?” asked Fifer. Their voices jiggled as they ran.

  “I didn’t pay very close attention to that part,” Thisbe lamented. “I figured we wouldn’t ever have to shut down the dragon wings once we had them going.”

  “Same here,” said Fifer. They lost sight of Seth and the grid monster they’d created, but the cloud of dust rising up over the square told them where they were.

  The townspeople had scattered by now, abandoning their booths and their precious goods—and Seth—to spare their lives. When the twins rounded the corner that led to th
e square, they saw Seth flipping around upside down, his legs kicking wildly as he rummaged in his component vest pockets for a spell that would free him or stop the grid. “Release!” he cried over and over as he searched, but the prison bars kept moving. Components fell out of Seth’s pockets and littered the square every time he went upside down.

  “Come on!” Fifer ran nimbly over the cobbled ground, careful to avoid the mashed produce so she didn’t end up on her back like Seth had.

  Thisbe followed in her sister’s footsteps. “What are we going to do? Can’t you call the birds in?”

  “What good would that do? They’ll just fly around and do nothing and leave again. They might even swoop in at Seth—who knows? I wish I could do more than just call them. Maybe if you had made a giant birdseed monster come alive, they could do something about it.”

  Thisbe thought about her glass spell but couldn’t see how that would help matters. She didn’t want Seth slamming into a glass wall, that was for sure. And she didn’t think her death spell would help in this situation either, even if she dared try it. That one only worked when she was piping mad. Right now she was scared. And even if she could manage to do it, she didn’t think it would kill a piece of bamboo. Besides, she didn’t want to accidentally hit Seth with it.

  Most everything else magical she and Fifer had done had happened randomly and often unexpectedly, and they’d rarely been able to re-create those spells unless they had a good idea of how to do it. Alex had been especially careful to caution the people of Artimé not to let the girls see them do any noncomponent magic, because they’d be sure to imitate it, which is how Thisbe had learned the glass spell.

  “He-e-elp!” said Seth. The word came out in gasps as he seemed to spot the girls.

  Thinking maybe she was the only one who could release the spell since she’d been the one to cast it, Thisbe ran ahead and shouted with great authority, “Release!” She even managed to touch a piece of the prison bars before it moved out of reach, hoping that might help. But the structure kept going as if nothing had happened.