by Lisa McMann
That night, after she nursed her aches, she practiced directing her magic. It came a little easier this time, and she managed not to knock herself out. She destroyed a small bone to pieces, missing it only twice before backing up a little and hitting it right where she intended to.
When she’d used up the last of her energy after the long day, she prepared to sleep. And that’s when she heard the three sharp knocks on the back wall.
Her eyes flew open, and then she realized who it must be. Despite feeling exhausted, Thisbe climbed up the bone pile, all the way to the small space along the back wall, near the ceiling. She picked up a bone—a dragon toe, it must have been—about the size of her forearm. She pounded the wall with it three times, and was surprised at the loud sound it made. She hadn’t expected that with solid rock.
A moment later came the response. Two knocks this time. A warm feeling came over Thisbe. Two knocks—it felt like Rohan was saying “good night” in a secret language. It reminded her of the secret language Lani and Samheed had made up when they’d been captives on Warbler, only they’d been together and had used their fingers to tap in each other’s cupped hands.
Pound, pound, Thisbe replied, and whispered, “Good night.” It might not be what Rohan had intended. It might be nothing but a way to feel human by communicating. But it was very comforting to Thisbe to think it, so she did.
Secret Training
By the next day in Artimé, Henry’s magical medicines had done their job quite thoroughly, and he declared that Fifer was well enough to leave the hospital ward. No one but the falcon was around to celebrate it with her—Seth and Alex were in the middle of Magical Warrior Training on the lawn, and Crow had left to be with his mother and Scarlet on Warbler. Aaron had gone back to the Island of Shipwrecks by now so that Kaylee could be here to train.
Fifer took the bird outside in case it wanted to fly away, but it stayed on her shoulder most of the time, only fluttering to the ground now and then to catch bugs or sip from dew on the grass. It seemed to want to stay with Fifer. But she still wasn’t sure it was a good idea to keep the poor bird trapped inside the mansion. So she set it down and urged it to fly away. Even as fond as she’d grown of it, she wanted it to be free to make the decision to stay with her or move along.
Eventually the colorful falcon flew to a tree. Fifer, growing tired, went back inside. Noting the time, she took the tube to her theater class and sat in the shadows of the auditorium. Onstage Samheed and Ms. Claire Morning, who lived in Quill now but still taught music in Artimé, directed some of the dancers for a new musical Lani and Samheed had written together. Thisbe was supposed to be in it, but her spot on the stage was glaringly empty.
Before class ended, Fifer slipped out and went unnoticed back to the mansion’s entryway, then outside again to see if the bird was sitting there, but it wasn’t. Fifer saw Carina with Seth’s younger siblings, six-year-old Ava and five-year-old Lukas, starting to gather flower petals for the dragon wings. She sighed. If only she and Seth had had proper items to work with, Alex and the others wouldn’t have to remake the wings.
It put Fifer in a foul mood. She felt like nobody really understood what she and Seth had gone through to make the new wings—all the pressure they’d faced with so little material. She went back inside and caught a glimpse of Alex and Florence through the west window, working outside on the private lawn again. Fifer pulled a stool from the kitchen so she could sit and watch the proceedings.
Just like he’d done the previous day, Alex was practicing his throwing technique. Sweat poured down his temples as he concentrated on an imaginary target. Ms. Octavia was out there today too, and Fifer watched, fascinated, as Alex graduated to using actual components. After some time doing that, Ms. Octavia bravely volunteered to play the part of the enemy, as many more-advanced mages of Artimé often did for the sake of the ones in training.
Alex wound up and flung a handful of scatterclips at Ms. Octavia. They veered wildly to one side and seemed unsure what their target was, then appeared to lose momentum. The thin pieces of metal sailed to the ground, doing nothing. “Buckets,” muttered Alex. He tried again and again, working hours to develop his skills.
As Alex did so, Fifer paid vast attention and memorized everything. She took in the way Florence taught him to stand and wind up and flick his wrist and hook his elbow just so. Fifer soon slipped off her stool and imitated the movements.
Every now and then, Florence glanced through the window to see if Fifer was there. But Fifer stayed back in the shadows. At one point she lifted her fingers and waved them, and Florence nodded satisfactorily. Florence was teaching her, too. On purpose. At least Fifer would be able to defend herself . . . if she ever got any components. Which wouldn’t happen until Alex said so, or until she turned thirteen. But she was using her time wisely now in preparation.
After a while, when Florence switched to working with Alex on building his strength, Fifer went up to her room, where she hadn’t spent any time since before she and Thisbe had left. It felt empty without Thisbe there.
Fifer practiced her scatterclips throw a few times, mimicking what she’d seen Florence teach Alex. Then she found some loose buttons from a sweater that no longer fit her and ripped them off so she could pretend they were components. She threw them across the room at the wall, aiming for the center of her blackboard. They hit dead on.
Desdemona surfaced, pushing her face from the screen. “What was that?” she said, trying to look all around.
“Nothing,” said Fifer, hoping the buttons had fallen out of sight. “Sorry I bumped you.”
“I heard you were back. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m sorry about Thisbe.”
“Thanks.”
Desdemona raised an eyebrow, warning Fifer not to throw things at her again, then melted into the blackboard. Fifer picked up the buttons and put them in her pocket. She’d have to practice somewhere else.
She went into her bedroom and looked out her window—the one that she and Thisbe had climbed out of—and watched as a small group of people and creatures gathered on the big lawn for what appeared to be a special session of Advanced Magical Warrior Training.
Fifer placed her hand on the window. “Release,” she whispered, wanting to be able to hear what was happening. The glass pane melted away, and Fifer turned her ear toward the outside, hoping some of the verbal instructions would be carried on the wind all the way up to her room.
Florence led the team in practicing their spells as they got ready to rescue Thisbe, and Fifer absorbed everything she could.
Seth was down there with the more advanced mages, and that made Fifer feel bad again about Alex not letting her go with them. He was trying out a small red heart-shaped component for what seemed like the first time. Fifer guessed it was a heart attack spell—Seth had told her and Thisbe that the heart attack spell wasn’t something the beginning mages usually got to try, and he hadn’t had any of those components before today. She was sure Florence and Carina and Alex had made an exception for Seth since he was going on the rescue. Fifer’s expression flickered. No exceptions were to be made for her.
Just then Samheed sent off a handful of scatterclips with a wild throw, leaving him yelping in pain and holding his shoulder. The scatterclips struck Florence and sent her careering backward into the mansion wall, making the whole building shake. When Florence pulled herself out of the giant dent she’d made, she looked sternly at Samheed.
“Sorry,” said Samheed meekly. “I think I pulled a muscle.”
“You all need to do strength training too,” Florence declared. “Everybody drop and give me twenty push-ups.”
Seth groaned and flopped to the ground, and Fifer could see he was already tired and sweaty by the way his blond hair stood up. He hated exercise. Fifer took a tiny bit of satisfaction from it, but not too much.
Then Florence turned to Alex. “You see? This is why we have to take the time to train. There’s only one person I can think of who needs less traini
ng than any of you, but you won’t let her go. So. Get moving.”
Fifer’s lips parted. Florence was talking about her. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she strained to hear Alex’s response.
“Okay, I get it,” Alex said begrudgingly. “We’re all really out of practice. We want to get this right.” But he didn’t say anything about changing his mind to let Fifer go with them. Instead he frowned and eased to the ground to attempt twenty one-armed push-ups, and was already faltering by the time he finished the third one.
After a moment Fifer stopped watching. She replaced the glass and sank onto her bed, her chin quivering. Across the room, Thisbe’s bed was empty and unmade from when they’d snuck out. Carina, Seth, Lani, Samheed, Alex, and Thatcher were all outside training. Even Talon and Kaylee were out there with their swords, all of them getting ready to rescue Thisbe. And Fifer would be stuck here alone, with only a little knowledge and a handful of useless shirt buttons. And a bird, maybe—unless it had decided to leave her too. It wasn’t fair.
She fell into a restless sleep and was awakened by the sound of Desdemona calling to her. Bewildered, Fifer fought her way out of her sheets and rolled out of bed. She glanced out the window and saw that the training session was over, then staggered to the living area feeling woozy. “What is it?”
The blackboard personality wore a puzzled look. “Seth sent a message. He says you should go outside the main entrance—there’s something on the front lawn you’ve got to see.”
A Change of Heart
Feeling a bit better after her nap, Fifer made her way down the grand mansion staircase, past Carina and her little ones in the entryway, who were back to collecting and stacking items for the new dragon wings. Fifer opened the huge entry door and went outside to look for Seth. Instantly a small flock of large red-and-purple falcons squawked and fluttered about, then settled around her. The one that had stayed with her earlier was front and center, strutting a little, then going right up to Fifer’s feet and flying up to land on her shoulder. She winced as its talons gripped her right where her wounds were healing. “Well, hello there. I see you’ve brought friends.”
Seth came walking up behind the flock, an amused expression on his face. “I think your new bird wants to show you off.”
“Weird, isn’t it?” said Fifer, but she was pleased. She turned to look at the bird. “What’s going on with you, Shimmer?” she murmured. The name seemed to fit. She petted it, making it shine brightly, then knelt in the grass, being careful not to startle the falcon on her shoulder. The other birds crowded around her, their necks darting out like pigeons going for seeds, trying to get Fifer to pet them, too. She did, and each of them shimmered extraordinarily brightly as well.
Just then Alex rounded the corner of the quiet west side of the mansion with Florence. Had they done a second session today? He was training hard. Alex waved but kept going—he seemed like he didn’t want anyone to ask what he’d been doing. “It’s great to see you up and around! I’ve got to help with the wings,” he added apologetically, and slipped inside. But Florence stopped when she saw Fifer and Seth surrounded by birds, and went over to them. “How are you feeling, Fifer?”
“A lot better. Just a little tired.”
“You’ve been watching the side yard, haven’t you?” She nodded in the direction of where she and Alex had been working.
Fifer nodded. “Yeah. Thanks,” she said quietly. “It means a lot that you trust me.”
“As the Magical Warrior trainer, I made an executive decision. I want you to be able to defend yourself. But let’s not mention that to your brother just yet.”
“Okay.”
Florence took a closer look at the birds, who hadn’t scattered when she approached, which seemed odd since she was such a large presence. “And . . . these birds? Why are they shining like that? Did you make them do that?”
“I didn’t do anything but pet them, I promise,” said Fifer a bit defensively, since she was used to people in Artimé accusing her and Thisbe of doing magic when they weren’t supposed to.
Florence flashed a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay. I think you did something to them, though. Nothing bad.” She knelt and observed the birds. “Have you ever petted the birds before when they’ve come to you after one of your screams?”
“I—I don’t know,” said Fifer. “I don’t think so. I’ve never really thought about it. I usually just shoo them away because Thisbe is afraid of them. But since she’s gone, I’ve let them stay . . . and now they don’t seem to want to leave.” She looked down at the birds. Thinking of Thisbe, Fifer was reminded of all the things she was worried about. She turned her face to Florence’s concerned gaze. “Any chance you’ve been able to convince Alex to let me go on the rescue?”
Florence sighed. “Not yet.” She didn’t seem hopeful that she would succeed. “I’m trying.”
“I know. I’m going to ask him myself,” she said. “I’m feeling better every day.”
“I’ll go with you if you want,” Seth offered.
Fifer shrugged. She was still feeling a bit jealous of him, but maybe he could help. “Okay.” She lifted the bird off her shoulder and set it on the grass, then went inside with Seth right behind. They followed the noise to Ms. Octavia’s classroom, where Carina and Alex and a few others were just starting to assemble the first of many gorgeous wings for the dragons, sculpted from thick jungle vines and the finest cloth and prettiest flower petals in Artimé.
Seth and Fifer looked at the beautiful creation, then glanced at each other, shook their heads, and laughed ruefully. “It’s so beautiful,” Fifer said, thinking of the horrid tree-branch-and-burlap-feed-bag wings they’d made back at the castle.
“I’m almost embarrassed about what we did to those poor dragons’ wings,” said Seth.
“I’m not,” Fifer declared. “We freed them. Who cares what they looked like as long as they worked.” She looked at her friend. “We did magic that only Alex had done before. You and me.”
“That’s true.” Seth and Fifer made their way through the various workstations to where Alex was standing, looking over Ms. Octavia’s sketches for each of the five young dragons.
“Hi, Alex,” said Fifer.
Alex smiled and looked up. “Hi. Feeling better? It’s nice to see you walking around.”
“Yep. I’ll be good enough to go with you to rescue Thisbe in a few weeks.”
Alex squeezed his eyes shut and sighed deeply, ending it with a slight shake of the head. “Here we go,” he muttered. “Don’t you ever let up? The answer is no, Fife. You’re staying home. No more discussion.” He turned back to the sketches.
Fifer looked at him and suddenly felt exhausted. It wasn’t that she hadn’t expected this response. And she’d planned to cajole and plead like she always did. She’d planned to list all the reasons why she was capable of going, why she’d be an asset to the team, why she of all people would be the absolute best person to have along because of her relationship with Thisbe and her experience in the land of the dragons and her magical strength. But for some reason, all those arguments became unbearably tiresome to repeat. Because this was Alex she was talking to. And the truth was that her reasoning wouldn’t work anyway. It would only result in a fight.
Fifer couldn’t explain why, but right now she couldn’t stand the thought of another heated argument with Alex. She narrowed her eyes and muttered something unintelligible, almost like she was having an argument with herself. It wasn’t worth it.
After a moment Alex glanced at her, surprised she wasn’t saying anything.
Fifer remained silent as something inside her twisted and ached and groaned in its unsettledness. Her lips parted and closed. And all she could do was stare at him, her eyes growing shiny, but this time she willed the tears away. She was done with those—done with that way of trying to convince her brother to let her do things. Sick and tired of the arguments that never changed his mind. Her whole body seemed heavily weighed down by this mundane metho
d that wasn’t working, and she couldn’t carry it anymore.
Maybe it was because she was still recovering and feeling weak and tired. Maybe it was because Thisbe wasn’t there this time to help her. And maybe it was because Fifer finally found her own inner strength after what she’d gone through, and she’d realized that the harder she begged, the more Alex dug in his feet to oppose her. He didn’t understand that she had changed in the short time she’d been away. And he wasn’t trying to either—he’d hardly asked her any questions about what they’d accomplished, choosing to focus only on how they’d failed. And that wasn’t fair. But Fifer was done waiting for Alex to catch up to figuring out her level of ability. She was done being shot down. Forever.
“Okay, Alex,” said Fifer quietly. She looked away, not wanting to see his look of victory. “Okay. I’m finished trying to get you to see my way. I am so much stronger and more capable than you think I am, but I’m done trying to convince you to see what you don’t want to see. And I’m tired of fighting you. You’re wrong. And you’re selfish and stubborn and you won’t admit it. And I’ve had enough of that. So go do your thing with your team and leave me out of it, just like you planned. You’ll realize once you get there that I could have helped you. But by then it’ll be too late.” She hesitated, then added, “And if you mess this up and it costs me my sister, I will never, ever forgive you. And I will focus on your failures just like you focus on mine.”
Alex’s eyes widened in shock and pain, and for a moment he was too taken aback to reply.
Seth poked Fifer’s arm to show her that others had paused in their work and turned to listen to their discussion.
Alex set the sketches down and looked squarely at Fifer. “Of course I won’t mess up,” he said softly. “And Thisbe is my sister too,” he said. “I know you don’t think I can run things properly, but I can assure you we’ll be going in extremely prepared. That’s why we’re taking all this time.”