by Lisa McMann
“Be quiet!” said Thisbe, going over to them. “Do you want to wake up the whole world?” Now that the panic was over, Thisbe was just annoyed.
“How do you know this boy?” growled the dragon.
Dev stopped yelling. His face became more and more confused. “Why aren’t you afraid?” he asked Thisbe.
But Thisbe wasn’t paying attention to Dev. She stared angrily at the dragon and threw her hands up in the air. “Where have you been? Maybe you could start by telling us why you abandoned us.” She was feeling all kinds of emotions at once simmering under her skin, and she wasn’t sure what to do with them. “We came here to help you!”
Fifer saw how agitated Thisbe was and went over to her sister’s side. “It’s okay,” she whispered in Thisbe’s ear. “He’s here now.” Fifer knew better than anyone that if Thisbe got too worked up, nobody was safe, and there was no telling what could happen.
Thisbe clenched her teeth and tried breathing through her nose. She didn’t want to make anything bad happen either—not really. Though she was pretty mad at the moment.
“You really shouldn’t startle her,” Seth told Hux. He’d been on the receiving end of Thisbe’s wrath when he’d stolen her beach sand shovel at the age of six. He’d nearly lost an eye from it. He knew better than to make her mad.
“Just . . . I’m fine,” Thisbe muttered. She didn’t like being talked about like this. She looked at Hux and explained. “Dev is our guide. He’s taking us to the castle so we can find the—”
Fifer nudged her, reminding her they hadn’t actually told Dev why they wanted to go to the castle.
“Anyway,” Thisbe said, “to the castle. He’s leading us. But now that you’re here to take us the rest of the way, you can kill him if you want to, since he’s kind of a jerk.” She didn’t really mean it, but it was fun watching Dev squirm.
Dev’s eyes widened in the glow from the fire. He knew Hux well enough. Each of the dragon’s claws were as big around as his forearms, and the points were very sharp. One false move and they’d pierce him through. He pushed aside the thoughts of his crumbling plan and gathered his wits, knowing he had to survive first before he could profit in any way from this little journey. Not that profit was on his mind at this moment—he just wanted to live to see the morning. “Thisbe,” he choked out, “you know I’ve been helping you. If you’d tried going this route alone, you’d be dead by now.”
Thisbe sneered. “Like you almost were before I saved you?” She knew she wasn’t being very kind. He had led them to water, and if she was being honest, she wasn’t sure they’d have been able to find that on their own. And it was true that the young Artiméans were terribly unseasoned at figuring out how to live on their own means. Back home they’d traveled around a lot to the various islands, but they’d always had a comfy bed to return to every night, and they’d never had to think about where food and water would be coming from.
“Please,” Dev begged. “Let me up. I—I can help you. I’m sure I can. I know every part of this land. I’ll fish for you. I promise. And . . . and I’ll go without.” He tried not to struggle, and for a moment, feeling weak and defeated, he closed his eyes and awaited the sharp claw to pierce his chest.
But something Thisbe and Fifer both heard him say made them pause. He knew the land. The girls looked at each other. “Hang on a minute,” Fifer said to Hux, and pulled Thisbe aside. She spoke in a hushed tone. “I’ve been wondering how we’re going to make the dragon wings without those vines we lost on the journey across the big gap of nothingness,” she said. “We need other materials too, like flower petals. Where are we going to find that stuff? Maybe Dev can get it for us.”
Thisbe frowned. Fifer had a point. “All right,” she conceded. “I guess we can use his help. Besides, he has to travel in the same direction we’re headed. If we just let him go, we’ll still be walking together, and that’ll be awkward.”
“Very,” said Fifer. “So we agree?”
“Of course we do,” said Thisbe with a little smile, feeling calmer now.
“You can let Dev up, Hux,” said Fifer. “We’ve got a job for him.”
The dragon complied, and soon Dev was rolling to his side and staggering to his feet, breathing a huge sigh of relief.
Thisbe introduced them. “Dev, this is Hux the ice-blue dragon. Hux, this is Dev . . . the most annoying person in the world.”
Hux and Dev looked at each other for a long moment, which seemed strange. Thisbe’s eyes darted from one to the other, trying to read their expressions. After an excruciating moment, Hux nodded slightly, and then looked away. “We already know each other.”
Thisbe took in a breath. “What? How?”
“Not very well,” said Dev, dropping his gaze.
“That’s not true,” said Hux. “You are as much a slave to the Revinir as we dragons are.”
“I am not,” said Dev hotly. “I serve the princess and no one else. Except the prisoners. But that’s because the princess wants me to.”
Hux snorted fire. “And who do you think controls the princess?”
Dev was quiet for a moment. And then he laughed bitterly. “No one. Or she and I would never have been down in the glen messing around on market day.”
Hux snorted. “Think what you want.”
“The king, then. But hardly.” Dev clenched his jaw in defiance, but it was useless and stupid to argue with the dragon.
“And who controls the king?”
Dev spun around and marched toward the river, and didn’t answer.
“Hey!” Thisbe yelled. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To catch your stupid fish.”
Thisbe looked at the others, puzzled. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“So what?” Seth interjected. “I’m starving to death. Let him go, please.” He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe he was part of this disastrous adventure, where they had to fight for every bite to eat and drop of water to drink. He pressed on his soft stomach as it snarled. He’d think twice about doing something like this again. But somehow the girls always talked him into it. Maybe one day he’d be brave enough to say no.
Dev disappeared into the darkness.
Thisbe turned toward the fire. “You should have killed him when you had the chance,” she muttered to Hux, then stoked the embers and added some sticks to the fire like she’d seen Dev do. A slave, she thought, staring at the glow. What a horrible place this is.
The dragon lowered himself to lie down on the ground. “I couldn’t, even if you’d wanted me to.”
“What do you mean? Why not?” asked Fifer.
“It is because of what my mother taught us. And what her mother taught her, for generations—thousands of years. It is so strong a teaching that it is ingrained in our being.”
“Wait. What is, exactly?” asked Seth, not sure he was following the conversation.
“Our line of dragons must not kill anyone who is more good than evil. It’s part of the code.”
Thisbe snorted. “And how do you tell? Is it because you are both slaves to the Revinir?”
“No. It has nothing to do with that.”
“Well, I think you might have made a mistake with Dev.”
Two tiny trails of smoke rose from the dragon’s nostrils. “There is no mistake. I can tell with full certainty: He is not more evil than good.”
Seth tilted his head. “So he’s more good, you’re saying.”
The dragon hesitated. “I would not say that, either.”
Fifer was truly confused and wasn’t sure if they were supposed to trust Dev or not. “So . . . what is he?”
The dragon paused for a long time, and then finally said, “He is exactly half-good and half-evil. And each side of him is fighting to take over.” His ears twitched, as if he were listening for Dev to return. “Only time will tell which side wins.”
The Trek to the Castle
The dragon hesitated as the children soaked in the inform
ation about Dev. And then he added, “You must never tell Dev this, for he doesn’t know it himself, and he must shape his own life. Just as I will not tell you what percentage good or evil you are, for it could alter the person you are destined to become.”
Fifer’s eyes widened. “Thisbe and I are probably the same, though. Right, Hux?”
Hux said nothing. He looked away.
Thisbe stared at him. “You mean we’re not the same?”
“Your brothers were quite different from each other,” said Hux. “Quite. There was no difficulty for us, even as young as we were back then, in telling them apart.” That was all he would reveal. “I’m weary—I’ve said too much already. Don’t ask me any more about it.”
“But where have you been?” Fifer asked Hux. “You still haven’t told us. And why did you abandon us?”
“I could ask the same question of you,” accused Hux. “You shouldn’t have left me. I could tell something was happening down in the village. When people began to scatter and some of them ran in my direction, I had to take to the forest to hide. If the Revinir gets word that I’ve been seen on the loose near a village, my life is over, new wings or not.”
Fifer frowned. “But why are you in so much danger? Isn’t this supposed to be the land of the dragons?”
“It used to be. That has all changed in the years since we arrived.”
Thisbe stared. “That’s horrible! The Revinir must be pure evil.”
“Ninety-nine percent,” said Hux, being candid again in his weariness, and under the cover of darkness. “Or so the story goes. I’ve never been close enough to get an accurate sniff. And I’m perfectly happy to keep my distance.”
“So, back to the story—you were hiding in the forest?” asked Seth, eager to hear what had happened.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you find us at night?”
Hux’s eyes narrowed as Dev appeared out of the darkness, carrying three fish. “I was otherwise disposed,” he said, staring at the boy. “Ensnared, you might say.” He didn’t elaborate. Dev didn’t look at the dragon. Silently he held out the fish to Thisbe.
She took them, and Seth jumped to get sticks so they could cook them over the fire.
“Once you’re finished eating, we’ll continue traveling,” said Hux. “We cannot waste any more time. I’ve been gone too long already and I fear . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence, but the girls and Seth knew what his fear was. It was their fear as well. Arabis’s life depended on them.
They ate quickly, then doused the fire and refilled their canteens. Soon the humans, except for Dev, were riding on Hux’s back. Dev ran alongside as best he could in the dark, but no one offered to give him a ride and he didn’t ask for one.
“Okay, Dev, you said you knew this land really well,” said Thisbe. “We need vines and flower petals. Where can we find those things?”
Hux answered before Dev had a chance to. “There are no vines here like the ones you were carrying earlier.”
Fifer and Thisbe looked at each other in horror. “No vines?” they said together.
“I’m afraid not,” said Hux. He turned to Dev. “Would you agree?”
“No vines that I know of. Unless you’re talking about ivy. The forest has plenty of that.”
“No. Ivy isn’t nearly strong enough.” Fifer knitted her brow. “Is there anything else?”
“Branches from a young tree might do,” murmured Thisbe, thinking about all she’d learned about plants from Henry Haluki and the grandfathers. “They’ll bend but they won’t break.”
“We have plenty of green saplings,” said Dev, huffing alongside them. He seemed less obstinate than before. Perhaps because they were finally on their way again. Or perhaps because Hux’s claws on his chest had put things into perspective. Needless to say, he was being helpful—for the moment at least.
By dawn they reached the last valley before their ultimate ascent to the castle. This valley was the greenest, lushest one they’d passed through, and the forest area grew large and close around a village a little bigger than Glen Freer. The river emerged from the woods and split into two, surrounded the village, making an oval shape around it, then joined up once more on the other side. A small wooden sign on the outskirts of the village read SOUTH GRIMERE.
“It’s so funny how there are all these villages on one piece of land,” remarked Seth.
“And this land is so big,” Fifer added.
“Doesn’t seem funny to me,” said Dev.
Thisbe rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, you’re right, Seth,” she said. “It’s different from home.”
At the mention of home, all three children from Artimé shifted uneasily. They’d been gone for days now. Maybe people at home would understand. Even Alex had slowed the frequency of sending seek spells—perhaps he was getting used to the girls being gone. They could only hope as much. But deep down they knew a lot of people would be very upset with them when they returned.
If they returned.
A ball of fear rose to Thisbe’s throat. What if we can’t actually fix the wings? She swallowed hard and tried to shake the thought. She and Fifer had always been able to do magic they’d witnessed. Sure, this spell was one of the hardest ever, or so everyone said, but Thisbe had already used it once to make the prison grid come alive. So they were good, right? Once they had the supplies they needed, the magic would be easy. And they would be doing a very selfless thing. It was exactly what they needed to do. Thisbe took in a sharp breath and sat up, feeling newly determined. It felt a little bit like when they’d first set out on this journey, only now her determination had a gritty, dark edge to it. There was a lot at stake—they’d found that out the hard way. She leaned in and spoke quietly. “We have to prove to Alex . . . We have to get it right.”
Fifer and Seth nodded. Fifer knew by now that this adventure was far from glamorous. And if they were ever going to make it home alive, they couldn’t mess this up. Beyond that, if she and Thisbe were ever going to get a chance to learn more magic, they had some major changes to make in themselves that wouldn’t be easy. Everything was riding on the girls accomplishing the task before them. Everything.
Hux and Dev remained oblivious. But all was soon forgotten as they entered the forest.
When Hux had gone in as far as he could without uprooting trees, Thisbe slid down his side to the ground. The other two followed her, and they began to search in the weak morning light for the right kinds of flower petals and trees.
To keep herself from worrying too much, Fifer began humming a difficult song she’d learned in her music class as she walked around. After a minute, Fifer stopped humming. She looked at Thisbe. “Maybe we should practice on Hux before we get to the castle, so we can prove that we can make wings?”
Thisbe nodded. She’d been worrying about this as well. What if, after all this, they weren’t able to actually make the wings work? It would be better to discover it here rather than in the presence of strangers who could potentially hurt them.
After much searching, they gathered enough soft branches and flower petals to create one set of wings. But they didn’t have any cloth to cover them.
“We’ll figure that out,” muttered Fifer, who was already eyeing giant palm fronds to use instead.
Just then they heard an eerie, forlorn cry in the distance, coming from the direction of the castle. Everyone stopped in their tracks.
“What in the world was that?” asked Seth.
Hux rose up on his back legs and roared in return, so loud it nearly split everyone’s eardrums. Then the dragon turned to look at them, fire in his eyes. “That was Arabis. We must go immediately. There’s no time to waste.”
The Castle Grimere
Thisbe, Fifer, Seth, and Dev stared at Hux. “But we haven’t—” Fifer began.
“NOW!” roared the dragon.
The four moved quickly to obey. They gathered up all the supplies they could carry and shoved them into the hollow on Hux’s back. At th
e last second, and without invitation, Dev hopped on as well, certain that the dragon was planning to run faster than he could keep up. And he was determined to be there to hand over the twins. After all his trouble in getting them here, he wasn’t about to miss his opportunity.
Thisbe turned and eyed Dev, and he quickly lowered his gaze, guilt poking at him from all directions. Then Hux lurched, and Thisbe had to face forward to keep her balance and help hold on to the supplies. At a surprisingly quick pace, the dragon moved through the forest, plowing down trees when necessary, then headed up the mountainside’s rocky terrain toward the castle. At one point he attempted flight, but his feet barely lifted off the ground. His wings were no longer strong enough.
The glory of the glistening castle lay before them, foreboding despite its beauty, for the Artiméans didn’t know what to expect from the people inside—people who kept dragons and humans as slaves. It was reassuring to know that they’d be safe, since the Revinir had sent for them. Fifer, who had draped her body over the sticks to keep them from sliding off, kept stealing glances at the majestic structure whenever she was stable enough to do so. She wasn’t old enough to remember the old, gray palace that had once loomed over Quill where the lighthouse now stood, but she’d seen drawings that Alex had done before his arm had become unusable. This castle looked nothing like that. If anything, it more resembled the mansion, but it was a supercharged version of it in every possible way. The towers were taller. The windows immense. The main doorway was so vast that, when the iron portcullis was raised, a dozen Simbers could fly through at once.
The castle Grimere was surrounded by a moat, which they’d seen from the neighboring peak. It became visible again as they climbed. Eventually they could hear the sound of the rushing river and the waterfall that slipped off the cliff on the back side of the property.
Thisbe focused on the waterfall for a moment. “The water just falls to nowhere,” she murmured, and for a second she nearly felt sorry for it—for how useless and forlorn it seemed. She had come to appreciate water in a great way these past few days, more than she’d ever given thought to before. It made tears spring to her eyes. But then she blinked hard and turned her attention back to the castle.