by Lisa McMann
Her expression flickered.
Rohan said her name again, and this time she nearly focused her gaze on him. But then she blinked and turned away, and the connection was lost. Another dose might put them at an equal level of the broths, like how Thisbe had been for much of the time. He wondered if there was a way to get the slaves to drink more of the ancestor broth. Not just to equate the levels so they’d be functional except when struck by a paralyzing roar, but to give them an extra edge to be able to withstand the dragon-woman’s roar completely, like Thisbe had after her second dose. It would take perhaps two more vials for most of them. But Reza, who’d no doubt taken in one more dragon-bone broth while the others were taking the ancestor broth, was two vials behind the others. So he would need four.
As Rohan left Prindi’s station and started toward the kitchen to deliver dragon bones, two soldiers approached Prindi.
“You’re to go to the castle tomorrow,” one of the soldiers said. “The Revinir has a job for you there. Start walking at dawn. Mangrel will let you out of your crypt early.”
“Yes, soldier,” said Prindi.
Rohan slowed his pace in case there was anything more to hear, but the soldiers were finished. As he continued steadily, his heart began to race. If the Revinir saw Prindi tomorrow, would she notice the girl was more aware of her surroundings than before? Would she notice that she still didn’t have more scales, even after the most recent dose? Would she ask Prindi any questions that could incriminate Thisbe? Or might Prindi tell her that Rohan had tried to speak to her?
He had to let Thisbe know so they could figure out what to do. Could they risk Prindi going to the castle and spending time with the Revinir at this point? Or should they try to do something . . . tonight? Before she left?
Rohan wanted to pick up his pace, but he could hear the soldiers coming behind him, and he needed to plod along at the usual mind-controlled speed. Moments later, the same woman who’d spoken to Prindi called out. “Rohan, stop.”
Obediently Rohan stopped. He set his expression and waited until the soldiers came up to him. “Yes, soldiers,” said Rohan in a monotone voice. He stared straight ahead.
“Are you going to the kitchen with those bones?”
“Yes.”
“And then returning this way to get more?”
“Yes.”
“Great.” The woman glanced sidelong at her companion. “Get another dose of broth for everyone and pass them out along your way.”
The second soldier snickered. “You’re so lazy.”
“I’m resourceful,” corrected the woman. “It’s lunchtime.” She turned back to Rohan. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes, soldier,” said Rohan.
“Make sure everyone drinks their vial.”
“Yes, soldier.”
Rohan waited a beat to hear if there was anything else, then continued plodding.
The other soldier, sounding slightly nervous, called after him, “Let us know if anything goes wrong.”
Rohan smirked but answered without looking back. “Yes, soldier.”
When Rohan reached the kitchen, he deposited his sack of bones and beckoned to Thisbe. Thisbe glanced at Dev, then sidestepped through the doorway and around the corner.
“How is he today?” Rohan asked, meaning Dev.
“He had another moment when he recognized me. I was just getting up the nerve to tell him to drink another dose, but I worry that he’ll tell the Revinir I said it.”
“Well, you can stop worrying. She’s ordered another round, and I’ve been commissioned by the guards to do their job for them.”
Thisbe stared. “That’s great!”
“There’s only one problem.”
“What is it?”
“Prindi has been called to the castle tomorrow to work there. That means she’ll start walking at dawn.”
“And . . . how is she?”
“She seemed to recognize me for a brief moment, and her eyes are less glassy. I think the Revinir will notice, especially with how much she scrutinizes us every time.”
“Oh no! She’ll only become more lucid with this dose,” said Thisbe, a worried look on her face. “We could give her the dragon-bone broth this time—that would put her back to the same level as Reza. Ugh, but I hate to do that. Can we risk giving everyone two like we did before? And try making a break for it tonight?”
“You read my mind,” said Rohan. “Can we? Do we have anything to lose?”
“Only everything,” said Thisbe, trying to smile. She reached up and touched Rohan’s cheek.
Dev appeared in the doorway behind them. He stared. “What are you doing?”
Thisbe and Rohan whirled to face him. Dev’s eyes were clearer than they’d been in ages. “Dev!” whispered Thisbe.
“Why are we down here again?” Dev demanded.
Rohan and Thisbe glanced at each other, and Rohan nodded. “Dev,” Thisbe said again, and reached for his hand. “We have to take another dose of broth.”
Dev pulled away, and in an instant his eyes were glazed again.
Thisbe went into the throne room and picked up a vial of the ancestor broth, then brought it out to Dev. “Drink this. The Revinir ordered it.”
Dev seemed confused, but he took the vial. Obediently he uncorked it and took a swig, swallowing it all down.
“And . . . ,” said Thisbe, watching him carefully. “One more.” She handed him another, making sure it was the ancestor broth.
Dev’s face looked pained, but he took it and sipped this one. When he finished, he held his stomach. Thisbe and Rohan helped him to sit on the floor.
“Keep an eye on him,” said Thisbe. She went back into the throne room and gathered up a dozen more vials of ancestor broth for Rohan to distribute, plus two for him to pocket. But how was he going to handle everyone by himself? Surely some of them would be defiant once they came to realize what was happening.
She set the broth on the counter and knelt next to Dev, peering at him.
Dev belched. Thisbe backed off, worried he was going to vomit.
But Dev merely swayed in place, eyes closed. Rohan and Thisbe stayed nearby, watching him anxiously.
Finally the boy opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. He blinked a few times. He looked Thisbe in the eye and held her gaze, then wound up like he was going to punch her in the nose. “What are you two looking at?”
Thisbe backed off before he could throw the punch, though she thought ruefully that he probably owed her one. “Sorry for staring,” she said. “We can explain.”
“How did you manage to get me down here?” Dev said with a sneer. “I told Fifer you were still here. She wouldn’t believe me.”
“Shh,” hissed Thisbe, glancing over her shoulder and realizing that now she had the soldiers to worry about, especially if Dev was talking like his old self. “Be quiet and I’ll tell you.”
“What is going on?” Dev said louder. He struggled to his feet, still a bit weak in the knees.
Rohan went to help him stand. “There you are,” he said lightly. “You’ve been through a lot, but you’re on the other side of it now. We just need you to stay a bit quiet so the soldiers don’t come.”
The explanation seemed to get through to Dev.
“You were being controlled by the Revinir through the dragon-bone broth she fed you,” Thisbe said quickly, still throwing glances at the door in case random soldiers strolled by. “The antidote is this other . . . concoction that I made. You’ve been under a spell for months.”
Dev seemed exhausted and dubious, but he let Thisbe continue. She told him everything she could to convince him they were telling the truth.
Finally, when Dev seemed to be coming around to believing them, Rohan picked up the vials of ancestor broth. “I have to get moving if I’m going to find everyone before the end of the day.”
Thisbe turned, looking torn. She needed to stay with Dev to coach him on how to fake out the soldiers. But she wanted to help Rohan
with the others. “Can you get them to come here?” she pleaded. “This isn’t going to be easy. Especially if everyone is as belligerent as Dev.”
Dev snorted.
“What about the soldiers?” whispered Rohan. “If they come through here, they’ll know something’s up.”
“I can handle the soldiers,” said Thisbe grimly. “And besides, it doesn’t matter now. They’re going to know something’s up tonight, one way or another. We’re breaking out of this jail. For good this time.”
A New Team
Okay, Thisbe,” said Rohan cautiously. “But assuming we convince the others about what’s really happening, and you somehow stop the soldiers, and we really do manage to break out of here . . . then what?”
Dev lifted his head. “I know where Fifer and Simber are in the forest.”
Thisbe rolled her eyes. “They’ve been gone for months. Dev, I’m telling you I went all the way home, and I was there for weeks and weeks before I came back here to try to save you.”
“This is all really confusing,” Dev said, sounding defensive. “Are you sure you’re not just playing a trick on me?”
“I give you my word. But we’ll need you to help with the others. Do you trust me? I promise everything I’ve told you is true.”
“But . . . ,” Dev said, his face pained, “why would you even care to save me?”
Thisbe felt like punching him. “Shut up, Dev. I’m not going to go into everything right now. We have stuff to do. Are you going to help me or not?”
“I guess I don’t have a choice. I want to get out of here too.”
“Great.” Thisbe blew out a breath. “Once we’re out, we’ll worry about where we’ll go from there. With any luck, Drock will be around to help us. Though . . .” Thisbe trailed off, not at all sure if Drock was still on her side. “Anyway, we can all be thinking of what to do next and discuss it on the way out.”
“That sounds sketchy, but I’m in with the plan.” Rohan shoved the two extra vials into his pocket, then stepped toward the door with the armload for the other six black-eyed slaves. “I’m taking these with me in case I can’t get them to come here. How about extra for Reza?”
Thisbe ran to get more and handed them over. “But you’ll try to return here with everyone?”
“Of course.” Rohan stopped and flashed Thisbe a reassuring smile. “We’ve been through worse things. We’ll get through this.”
Thisbe grinned back. “That’s the spirit. Best luck. See you soon.”
“That’s the plan.” Rohan disappeared from the kitchen wing.
“Are you two, like—” Dev began.
“Like why don’t you shut it and pay attention,” Thisbe snapped. “I need to teach you how to be a good actor in about three seconds.”
“Okay, okay,” said Dev, but he seemed a little annoyed.
“Rest your face.”
Dev let his expression go slack.
“Good. Now cross your eyes, then relax them and stare off into space so it’s blurry. Like this.” Thisbe showed Dev how to appear like he was under the Revinir’s spell.
“That is not how I looked,” said Dev.
“You want to bet on that?” Thisbe challenged. “You looked exactly like that. You were being controlled.”
“I don’t remember any of it. Did I do anything . . . horrible?”
“You . . . you spit fire at Seth and burned him.”
“What?” Dev exclaimed. “Is he okay?”
“Shh!” said Thisbe. “He’s fine. Pay attention and do what I told you. You look totally shocked right now.”
“Stop telling me shocking things, then.” Dev struggled to compose himself. He worked his facial muscles again until he relaxed, then crossed his eyes and focused on a random spot on the wall, letting the edges blur.
“That’s pretty good,” Thisbe said. “Keep practicing. Try to do it while you stir your broth.”
“Ugh,” said Dev, looking at the cauldron. “Have we been drinking this? Look at my arms—they’re covered in scales!”
“Focus,” Thisbe said in a low voice. “I hear footsteps. If they ask you to do anything, just go along with it.”
“Help us all,” Dev muttered. He froze, then, with his back to the doorway, went through the method Thisbe had given him. A minute later a soldier came in.
“Did Rohan collect broth from you to pass out to the others?” she asked.
“Yes, soldier,” said Thisbe. Dev echoed her.
“Good.” She peeked into their pots and wrinkled her nose. “Dev,” she said, “the Revinir just sent word that she needs you tonight. She’s trying to find the king’s personal treasures in the castle, and you’re the only one who knows where everything is. Finish up here and go up the elevator—she’s sending a dragon to take you. She’s in a hurry to find them.”
Thisbe nearly choked. This wasn’t part of her plan.
Dev nearly choked too. After he hesitated a second too long, the soldier peered at him.
“Did you hear me?” she said.
“Yes, soldier,” said Dev, his voice squeaking.
The woman narrowed her eyes and studied him. As he stirred, he tried to keep his gaze set on the wall. After a moment she shrugged, then turned and left the room.
When her footsteps faded, Dev slumped over the counter. His face was gray. “Now what?”
Thisbe was thinking frantically. If Dev didn’t go soon, the dragon would report it, and the Revinir would find out much sooner than if Prindi didn’t show up tomorrow.
“Thisbe!” whispered Dev.
“Quiet. I’m thinking!”
“She’ll figure it out if I go! I can’t do this fake thing like you can. I’m miserable at it.”
They stood in silence as their plans crashed around them. They weren’t ready to make a move yet. Rohan was probably still rounding up the other slaves. They’d have to get here, and then they’d require at least as much time as Dev had taken to understand what was happening—and even longer for Reza to drink the extra broth. Dev couldn’t wait that long, or the Revinir would know something was up.
Thisbe turned to her friend, desperation written all over her face. Could Dev pull off the biggest acting job ever? Could he fake his way through a direct meeting with the Revinir just to give Thisbe and the others the time they needed? And maybe even the chance to escape without the Revinir finding out for at least a day?
Even if he could, how would he get away from the castle?
Minus One
Thisbe and Dev stared at each other. “You have to do it,” said Thisbe in a low voice. “You have to go to the castle. Or else the Revinir will know something’s happening down here, and we’ll all end up in the dungeon.”
“Thisbe, no!” Dev gripped his hair in his fists and turned to look out the door. The hallway was empty. “What if I mess it up? She’ll kill me!”
Abandoning all pretense and not caring about soldiers, Thisbe took Dev by the shoulders and turned him to face her. “Listen to me,” she said, trying to be calm. “This is going to be easy.” She nodded firmly to convince herself of that. “Just do the face I taught you. Speak in monotone, and don’t say much—yes, Revinir. No, Revinir. Nice and steady, no emotion. Find the stuff she needs as quickly as you can. When the dragon returns you to the elevator, don’t go back down into the catacombs. Instead, run away. Go to Maiven’s house in the village.”
“Who? You mean Maiven from the dungeon?”
Thisbe dropped her hands. “Ugh, that’s right. You missed absolutely everything, didn’t you?” She turned to glance out the door, trying to think. “Okay, new plan. Go to Alex’s grave. You know where that is, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, good.” Thisbe breathed a bit easier. “Great. One of us will find you there.”
“If the Revinir doesn’t kill me.”
Thisbe’s eyes went wild. “Dev. You have to pull yourself together. You can do this. You just convinced the guards that you were still under the Revin
ir’s spell. Just do that exact same thing. She’s not going to kill you.”
“Easy for you to say.” Distraught, Dev turned to the soothing familiar action of stirring his pot of broth. “Can’t we all just escape when Rohan comes back? What happens if I don’t go?”
“She’s expecting you to leave immediately, and you’re traveling by dragon. She’ll figure out soon that something’s up. If we can’t get out of here before then, it’ll ruin our chance of ever helping everyone escape. And then . . . she might kill us. Some of us, anyway. Like me. All of this is on me and Rohan.”
Dev sighed and started pacing. “What if . . . ,” he began. “What if I drink more dragon-bone broth so that I really am back under her control? Then I wouldn’t have to fake it.”
Thisbe considered that for a moment, then shook her head. “You wouldn’t remember to escape. And you’d come back here and be stuck down here all alone.”
Dev stirred the broth. “This stinks.”
Thisbe wasn’t sure what to do. “Please, Dev,” she said. “We need you to do this. You’re saving eight black-eyed slaves from the Revinir’s tyranny. You’ll be an even bigger hero than you already are.”
Dev stopped stirring. “You don’t think I’m a hero. You’re just saying that to get me to go.”
“That’s not true,” Thisbe insisted. “I know you, Dev. And I heard all about what you did when you were with my sister and the rescue team. You knew to save the king, which stalled the Revinir’s takeover.”
“Fat lot of good that did,” said Dev. “Does anybody know if the king is dead?”
“We don’t know,” Thisbe admitted. She studied her friend. “But I do know you can do this, Dev. I believe in you. And we’ll be waiting for you by Alex’s grave. You can do this. We’ll all be together by morning, and we have a safe place to hide out.”
Dev grimaced. He stirred a few more times around the pot, staring into the cloudy broth.